#charity dating auction

[csilla-nocturne]

Xie Lian volunteers for one of those charity date auctions, not expecting much, but a huge bidding war starts over him when Mu Qing and Feng Xin realize that mysterious philanthropist Hua Cheng is the highest bidder.

[dynamimight]

i hv such a fic Idea but i am so tired so i'm gonna roughly rough draft in the tags and hopefully get back to it later lol i have a headache 😭😭

[lilacgaby]

title: gala gone wrong?

pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader

katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.

the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.

...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.

he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?

none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.

you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.

katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.

the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.

the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.

"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.

"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.

"hmm. what if i won? huh?"

"shut up."

she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-

"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"

"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.

you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?

"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.

"17,000!"

"20,000!"

"30,000"

numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.

you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.

after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.

"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,

katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.

he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.

"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"

the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.

"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.

"whatever, now we have an excuse to."

"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."

"i told you shut it."

she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."

he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.

she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.

the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.

he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.

at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,

he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.

[pucksandpower]

Going Once, Going Twice

Charles Leclerc x Red Bull engineer!Reader

Summary: getting roped into participating in a charity date auction changes your life forever

The lights in the grand ballroom dim as a spotlight illuminates the stage. The Master of Ceremonies, wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo, steps up to the microphone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” His voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome to the 12th Annual Amber Lounge F1 Charity Date Auction!”

The crowd erupts into raucous applause. You clap politely from your seat near the back of the room, shrouded in shadows.

“As always, we have an exciting lineup of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from the Formula 1 paddock, ready to be auctioned off for a romantic date in support of disadvantaged children everywhere.”

More applause.

“But before we bring out our first participant, allow me to go over some ground rules.” The MC adopts a mock-stern tone. “Winners of each date are required to adhere to Amber Lounge’s code of conduct. That means hands to yourself at all times-” A few hoots and hollers from the audience. The MC wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, none of that now! This is for charity, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s keep it classy.”

You stifle a yawn. You’ve attended this auction for the past five years as a guest of Red Bull Racing, where you work as a race engineer. And every year it’s the same — watch your drunk colleagues get leered at by moneyed Formula 1 fans willing to pay exorbitant sums for bragging rights.

No thank you. You always politely decline the organizers’ requests for you to participate.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” The MC gestures to the wings of the stage. “Our first eligible bachelor of the evening is ...”

As he announces the first victim, an Amber Lounge organizer you recognize comes rushing over to you.

“Y/N! Thank god I found you. We have an emergency.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”

“One of our bachelorettes had to cancel last minute. Food poisoning.” She makes a face. “We need you to fill in.”

Your eyes widen. “What? No. Absolutely not.” You shake your head vehemently.

“Please Y/N,” Lucy begs. “We need you. The show must go on, for the children!”

“Get someone else,” you hiss. “I refuse to be leered at by old men with more money than sense.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” She gives you a stern look. “It’s unbecoming for someone your age.”

You bristle at the condescension. “I don’t care. Find another victim.”

You move to leave but Lucy grabs your arm, her eyes pleading. “Y/N, the money raised tonight will help provide life-saving surgeries for children in need. Don’t you want to help them?”

Damn. She’s good. You hesitate, cursing your bleeding heart.

Lucy presses on. “It’s just one silly little date. And you might meet someone nice!”

You highly doubt that. With a heavy sigh, you slump back into your chair.

“Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”

Lucy claps excitedly. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this.”

Somehow you doubt that too.

You try unsuccessfully to calm the butterflies raging in your stomach as you wait for your turn on stage. What have you gotten yourself into?

Finally, the MC calls your name. “Our next eligible bachelorette works as a race engineer for Red Bull. But tonight, the only engine she’ll be working on is yours! Let’s give a warm welcome to Y/N Y/L/N!”

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you walk stiffly onto the stage. The lights blind you as the MC sings your praises, highlighting your “beauty, brains, and sass.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

As he finally wraps up, you scan the darkened audience nervously. A sea of unfamiliar faces look back at you, shadows obscuring their expressions. You shudder.

“Alright gentlemen, do I hear 5,000 euros to start?”

Immediately, a paunchy, ruddy-faced man in the third row thrusts up his paddle. Your stomach sinks.

"5,000 from the gentleman in row three! Do I hear 5,500?”

Another paddle shoots up from a bald man smirking lecherously at you. Your throat tightens.

"5,500! Can I get 6,000?”

The bids climb higher and you feel faint. These vultures want to buy you. Own you for a night. Your breaths come faster.

10,000 euros. 15,000. 20,000. Sweat drips down your neck as your heart hammers against your ribs.

Just as you’re about to flee the stage in tears, a smooth voice calls out, “One hundred thousand euros.”

A collective gasp sweeps the room. Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s an absurd amount, even for charity.

The MC gulps. “Erm … 100,000 euros from the gentleman in the back!” He peers into the darkness. “Sir, are you certain?”

“Oui.”

That accent … could it be?

You crane your neck, squinting against the glare of the spotlight. A familiar mop of brown hair emerges from the shadows.

Charles. Freaking. Leclerc.

Your cheeks burn crimson. What game is he playing at?

The MC finds his voice again. “R-right then. Going once, going twice ...” He slams the gavel down. “Sold for 100,000 euros! Congratulations, Monsieur Leclerc.”

Charles saunters casually up to the stage, signature smirk in place. He takes your hand and presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

“Bonsoir, ma cherie. I look forward to our date.” He winks roguishly.

You stare open-mouthed, brain short-circuiting. Charles Leclerc just bought you at a date auction.

Il Predestinato.

The golden boy of Scuderia Ferrari himself.

What. Just. Happened?

***

Backstage is chaos. Flashes pop as winners pose with their purchases, champagne flowing freely. You’re quickly shuttled into a cramped makeshift office and handed a stack of paperwork.

“These are your date waivers, dear,” the organizer says briskly. “Standard liability forms.”

You scan the dense legalese numbly. This can’t be real.

A figure plops into the seat beside you, sulking. It’s your friend Ava, Mercedes’ social media manager. She was auctioned right before you.

“Well, congratu-bloody-lations,” she gripes. “Aren’t you Little Miss Popular.”

You glance up distractedly from the waiver you’re signing. “Hmm?”

“Don’t play coy. Bagging the Prince of Monaco himself for your date!” She narrows her eyes. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck going for tea and crumpets with Lord Fartington the Third over here.”

She jerks her thumb at a white-haired man being attended to by a nurse, oxygen tank wheezing.

You wince sympathetically. “Oh Ava, I’m sorry...”

She waves a hand. “Don’t be. At least the old codger’s loaded. Clearly I don’t have your charm.”

You snort. “It’s not like I planned this.”

Ava arches a brow. “You expect me to believe you aren’t thrilled about a date with Leclerc?”

Your cheeks flame as you recall Charles’ roguish wink. “It’s for charity,” you mumble.

“Uh huh. Well, you’re welcome for the extra Instagram followers.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even considered the social media storm this would stir up.

Before you can spiral further, you’re pulled aside for a “date planning session.”

Charles is already there, looking completely unflappable. He greets you with a heart-stopping grin.

“Bonsoir, Y/N.”

You timidly return his smile. “Hi.”

A coordinator claps briskly. “Right! Let’s get your date scheduled.”

She turns expectantly to Charles. Your stomach flutters.

“I will pick Y/N up tomorrow at 7 pm sharp for dinner at my favorite restaurant in Monaco.” His eyes glint. “Wear something nice, chérie.”

He takes your hand, brushing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. You shudder, face aflame.

“Until then, ma belle.” With a roguish wink, he turns and saunters off.

You stare after him, fingers pressed to the spot his lips touched. A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your brain short-circuits.

“Right, that’s settled then!” The coordinator chirps, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “We’ll have a car fetch you tomorrow evening. The press will want photos, of course.”

You distantly agree, mind still whirling. You survive the rest of the paperwork marathon in a daze.

By the time you escape the clutches of the organizers, you’re exhausted. Collapsing into an Uber, you text your roommate Cassie a SOS. Wine and girl talk, stat.

She’s waiting with open arms and your emergency rosé when you drag yourself in the door.

“Rough night, babe?” She asks sympathetically, handing you a generously filled glass.

You groan. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Her eyes widen as you recount the auction. By the end, she’s fanning herself dramatically.

“Shut up. Charles Leclerc really bid 100 thousand euros for you?”

You nod, chugging your wine.

“Holy shit.” She falls back against the couch. “You have a date with an F1 driver. Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc.”

You chuck a throw pillow at her. “Don’t remind me.”

She sits up, affronted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now?”

You shrug half-heartedly. Honestly, you’re still processing.

Cassie narrows her eyes. “Wait. You do actually like Charles, right?”

“As a person, sure. He’s lovely.” You avoid her gaze. “But a date?”

She tilts her head. “So you’ve never thought about him … you know … in that way?”

You squirm under her scrutiny. “Maybe. Once or twice.” Or multiple times a day.

“I knew it!” She crows triumphantly.

You throw another pillow at her, cheeks flaming. “Okay, fine! He’s totally my type and yes, I’ve fantasized.” You bury your face in your hands. “But fantasizing and actually dating are totally different!”

Cassie rubs your shoulder consolingly. “So you’re freaking out because you actually like him.”

You nod miserably. “What if I make a fool of myself? What if there’s no connection in real life?” You look at her despairingly. “I don’t know if I can handle him rejecting me.”

She squeezes your hand. “Sweetie, from what you’ve told me about Charles, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”

You nibble your lip uncertainly. Cassie may have a point. But still.

“Even if he is interested, what happens after?” you whisper. “I’ll just be another conquest.”

Cassie tilts your chin up gently. “If Charles is foolish enough to let you go, then it’s his loss. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

You take a deep breath. She’s right. You can do this. It’s just one date.

You spend the rest of the night gossiping and polishing off the wine. Curled under the covers later, you toss and turn fretfully. What will tomorrow bring?

You replay the auction in your mind. Charles’ smooth voice calling out that astronomical bid. His signature smirk as he claimed you as his prize. The feather-light kiss pressed to your knuckles that still tingles hours later.

A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your pulse quickens once more.

What game is he playing at? There’s no shortage of women who would gladly go out with him. So why you?

You toss and turn, mind racing. Does he actually like you? Or was this all an impulsive stunt — a boast to tell his fellow drivers about later?

You groan into your pillow. This is why you never get involved with drivers. Underneath the glitz and glamour lies a tangled web of ego and politics.

Still … when Charles looked at you with those piercing eyes on stage, just for a moment, you let yourself believe he was seeing the real you. Not just another notch on his bedpost.

You huff, punching your pillow in frustration. You’re being ridiculous. This is Charles Leclerc. Motorsport’s resident heartthrob. You would be foolish to expect more from him than a fancy dinner and bragging rights.

Wouldn’t you?

Anxiety gnaws at your gut as the clock continues to tick. What if this is all some elaborate prank or publicity stunt? What if the date goes horribly wrong?

The silver lining is that at least you helped raise money for charity. Maybe the date itself won’t be so bad. Charles seemed pleasant enough backstage ...

Ugh. You force your eyes closed, begging for sleep to take you. What will tomorrow bring? With the morning light comes your date with Charles Leclerc … for better or worse.

***

The next evening, you’re a bundle of nerves as you frantically rush around getting ready. Cassie helped you pick out a stunning new dress and spent ages on your hair and makeup.

“You look hot, babe,” she proclaims. “Knock him dead!”

You pace anxiously, stomach fluttering. This morning you half expected Charles to cancel or send an assistant with excuses. But instead you got a text from him confirming your dinner reservation along with a winking emoji that made your cheeks flame.

It’s really happening. Your fantasy date with Charles Leclerc.

At precisely 7 pm, the doorbell rings. You nearly trip over yourself rushing to answer it. Swinging open the door, you find Charles waiting on the step, looking unfairly gorgeous in a tailored suit.

In his hands is a massive bouquet of peonies. Your favorite flower, though you’ve certainly never told him that. Your eyes widen.

Charles seems momentarily stunned as he takes in your dress and styled hair. He blinks several times before a slow, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face.

“Bonsoir, mon amour. You look absolutely ravishing.”

He presents the flowers with a flourish. “For you.”

You accept them, blushing fiercely. He even brought your favorite flowers? This has to be a dream.

“They’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just put them in water.” You rush to the kitchen, pulse racing. He called you his love. In French!

You take a steadying breath before rejoining Charles outside. He leads you toward a shiny black Ferrari parked at the curb.

“Sorry, I told the Amber Lounge to cancel the car they ordered for you. I wanted to drive myself so we could talk.” He holds open the passenger door for you.

You slide in, hyper-aware of his proximity in the intimate space. The car smells like his spicy cologne. You’re suddenly very thankful for Cassie’s strategic use of double-stick tape.

Charles pulls smoothly into traffic. His hand rests temptingly close to yours on the gearshift.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” he says, glancing your way. “I apologize for staring earlier. I was just … overwhelmed.”

You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It’s okay. You look very handsome yourself.”

He smiles, visibly relaxing. Soon you’re chatting comfortably about work and hobbies. He asks thoughtful questions about your life and cracks jokes that have you laughing until your stomach hurts.

You’re so immersed in conversation, you don’t notice Charles parking until he opens your door, ever the gentleman. He guides you toward an elegant restaurant overlooking the glittering Monaco harbor.

The maître d’ greets Charles enthusiastically. “Monsieur Leclerc! Wonderful to see you again. Right this way to your usual table.”

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, as he leads you to a secluded candlelit table on the balcony. Charles pulls out your chair for you. Such a gentleman.

“You come here often?” You ask teasingly as he takes his own seat.

“Oui, it is my favorite restaurant in the country,” he admits. “The cuisine is magnifique, and the staff keeps things … discreet.”

Interesting. You wonder just how many dates Charles has brought here. For some reason, the thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

You’re distracted as the waiter brings champagne. Charles turns to you.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us ahead of time, I hope you do not mind. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes twinkle. “I think you will be pleased.”

You would normally bristle at men ordering for you. But the shy hopefulness in Charles’ eyes melts your reservations.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you say sincerely.

He beams. Soon, a parade of your favorite dishes arrives at the table — seared scallops, truffle gnocchi, crème brûlée. You gasp in delight and surprise.

“Charles, these are all my favorites! How did you know?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Have you been stalking me?”

Charles laughs, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “No, no, nothing like that. I just … pay attention.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Uh huh. Are you sure you haven’t bugged the Red Bull kitchens?”

Charles winces. “You deserve the truth.” He takes a deep breath. “The fact is, I have, er, admired you for some time now.”

Your eyes widen. What is he saying?

Charles hurries on. “At first it was just a passing attraction. But the more I observed you, the more fascinated I became.” He looks up at you earnestly. “You are kind, funny, brilliant … unlike anyone I have ever met.”

Your pulse thunders in your ears. Charles Leclerc has noticed you — for longer than just last night. You’re reeling.

He fiddles with his napkin. “Over the years I have gradually learned your habits, your likes and dislikes. Little things, like your favorite flower, or food.” He ducks his head. “It allowed me to feel closer to you. Pathetic, I know.”

“It’s not pathetic at all,” you murmur. Your heart swells realizing just how long he’s cared. “It’s incredibly thoughtful.”

His answering smile is radiant. The rest of dinner passes enjoyably as you continue getting to know each other. Underneath Charles’ debonair charm, you find a sweet soul.

You linger over dessert, but eventually Charles pays the check. Back outside, the wind off the sea has picked up. You shiver lightly in your dress.

Charles immediately shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it around your bare shoulders. The residual warmth from his body envelops you, along with his intoxicating scent.

“Can’t have you catching a cold, chérie.” His hands linger, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You clutch the jacket, suddenly shy. “Thank you, Charles. For everything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” His eyes are dark, tender. “I have waited so long for this moment. You have made me the happiest man alive tonight.”

Your breath catches at his sincerity. Moving slowly, giving you time to pull away, he reaches up to tuck a windblown lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers trail lightly down your neck, raising goosebumps.

When his hand cups your jaw, you lean into the caress unthinkingly. Your lips part. Charles’ gaze drops to your mouth.

Heart in your throat, you sway closer. Is he finally going to kiss you? You’ve been thinking about it all night. His eyes flutter closed ...

A car horn blares loudly, shattering the moment. You spring apart, chest heaving. Charles clears his throat.

“I, er, suppose I should get you home.” He opens the passenger door for you, hand lingering briefly on the small of your back before he rounds the car.

The drive back passes in charged silence. Walking you to the door, Charles softly strokes your knuckles with his thumb.

“I cannot remember when I have had a more wonderful evening,” he says quietly. “I hope we can do this again soon?”

“I’d really like that.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Charles presses a feather-light kiss to your hand. “Bonne nuit, ma belle.”

As he drives away, you press your hands to your burning cheeks. You just had the most perfect first date with Charles Leclerc. A pinch me, I must be dreaming date.

Hugging his suit jacket tighter, you lean against the closed door and sigh happily. Maybe, just maybe, your fantasy is on its way to coming true.

***

The week after your dream date drags by endlessly. You float through your days in a happy daze, replaying every moment in your mind. The suit jacket he gave you lives on the back of your chair, filling your room with his lingering scent.

Before you know it, you’re reunited at the next Grand Prix. You wait awkwardly outside the Ferrari garage, clutching Charles’ jacket. Your excuse is returning it, but really you’re just desperate to see him again.

Does he feel the same? Your stomach twists anxiously.

“Who are you waiting for, bella ragazza?”

You startle as Charles’ performance coach Andrea appears beside you, grinning knowingly.

“Oh, um, just returning this.” You hold up the jacket weakly.

Andrea winks. “Of course. I will let our boy know you are here.”

He heads into the garage and you fidget nervously with your hair. This morning it only took Cassie threatening bodily harm for you to change your outfit five times. You settled on a flattering sundress you know Charles will appreciate before you have to change into a team uniform come time for free practice.

Suddenly Charles comes barreling out of the garage like an overeager golden retriever. His face lights up when he spots you.

“Y/N! I was just coming to find you.”

Before you can react, he sweeps you into a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his warmth and familiar cologne. He’s really here, in your arms.

He pulls back just far enough to beam down at you, keeping his hands on your waist. “I missed you, chérie. The days apart were torture.”

You duck your head, smiling shyly. “I missed you too.”

You offer him the folded jacket. “I, um, thought you might want this back.”

Charles tsks, pushing it gently back toward you. “No no, you must keep it. Can’t have you catching cold until our next date, non?”

His eyes sparkle playfully. You hug the jacket to your chest, absurdly giddy at having an excuse to keep it longer.

“Charles! Fred is asking for you.” His race engineer calls out apologetically.

Charles sighs regretfully. “Duty calls. But I will see you later, yes?”

He lifts your hand to his mouth, lips grazing your knuckles feather-light. Your breath catches. Then, so quickly you almost miss it, he swoops in and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, sending lightning zipping across your skin. With a last lingering look, he jogs off.

You press your fingers to your tingling skin, smiling like a loon. Andrea winks knowingly as you float away on cloud nine.

Over the next few hours, you’re bombarded by smug comments and curious questions from fellow Red Bull crew. Apparently your “secret romance” with Charles is the paddock’s gossip of choice today.

You weather the teasing good-naturedly. After all, you’re daydreaming while remembering the sensation of Charles’ lips on your skin.

After FP2 ends, you’re startled from reviewing data by a knock on your office door. You open it to find a delivery man with a truly gigantic flower arrangement.

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?” He consults his clipboard. “Says these are for you personally.”

You gape at the massive vase overflowing with huge, fragrant red peonies. There must be at least four dozen stems.

“Oh, um, that’s me, thanks.” You take the towering arrangement, stunned.

The delivery man chuckles knowingly. “Popular lady. Have a nice day now.”

Shutting the door, you bury your nose in the velvety petals, inhaling deeply. There’s only one person who could have sent these.

The card confirms it.

Thinking of you each and every second, C.

Red peonies are nearly impossible to find, yet Charles managed it.

It’s undeniably a public statement. Sending your favorite flowers in the color of his team for everyone to see. Staking his claim.

Normally such male posturing would irritate you. But from Charles, it feels different. Sweet. Affectionate, even.

You press your face into the blooms again, heart overflowing. Is this what it feels like to be falling for someone? You haven’t felt this giddy in years.

Somehow, you’ve captured the attention of the amazing, thoughtful, romantic Charles Leclerc. And you have a feeling this is only the beginning.

***

“Keep pushing Checo, just a few more laps to go,” you say into the radio as your driver, Sergio Perez, circles the track in final practice.

He’s been struggling with tire degradation all weekend. You’ve made setup tweaks and simulation runs, but there’s only so much data can tell you. The stopwatch never lies.

At least his pace looks improved this session. You watch closely as he enters the home straight again, sparring with the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc for position.

You try not to stare too obviously as the scarlet car glides by. The visor obscures Charles’ handsome features, but your heart still skips a beat.

Get it together, you scold yourself. You’re at work. Ogling drivers mid-session is unprofessional.

Even if said driver happens to be the charming, romantic F1 sensation you’ve somehow found yourself falling for ...

The session ends without incident. You breathe a sigh of relief reviewing Checo’s improved lap times. All things considered, not a bad recovery from yesterday’s struggles.

You pack up your station and make your way back to Red Bull hospitality to grab a late lunch before qualifying. Scrolling your phone, you can’t resist pulling up a photo from your dream date with Charles last week.

God he looks good in a suit. And that adoring smile ...

“No wonder your head’s been in the clouds lately.”

You jump, nearly dropping your phone. Checo appears beside you, leaning over your shoulder with a knowing grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving your phone away.

“Oh come on, chica. I’ve seen the way you two stare at each other.” He nudges you playfully. “Like lovesick teenagers.”

You shove him back, rolling your eyes. “As if. Charles and I have barely even spoken.”

A bald-faced lie, but no need to feed the gossip mill further. Checo just studies you for a moment, smile turning knowing. “Ah, so it’s Charles now, is it? No more Leclerc?”

You feel your face heat. Have you been that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come on.” Checo bumps your shoulder playfully. “I saw the way you two were making eyes at each other all morning. Like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.”

You bury your face in your notes, mortified. Has your thing with Charles really been so noticeable?

Checo laughs. “Ah, do not be embarrassed, chica. I think it’s adorable. The race engineer and the driver, a paddock romance!”

You toss a balled up napkin at him in protest, which he dodges easily. “Stop it! There’s nothing going on.”

“Nothing, eh?” Checo’s eyes gleam impishly. “So all those flowers you got yesterday were just for fun? And I imagined you swooning over Leclerc in the garage?”

You flush even harder. Apparently you have not been as subtle as you thought.

Checo slings an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, hermanita. I am just teasing because I care.”

You lean into him, some of the tension easing.

“You know I just want you to be happy, right chica?” His expression grows serious. “Leclerc seems like a good guy. Just be careful with your heart.”

You nod, touched by his concern. “Of course. We’ve only been on two dates.” You hesitate. “But … I really like him. He’s so different than I expected.”

Checo smiles gently. “I am happy for you, truly. You deserve an amazing man.”

You grin. “Thanks, Checo.”

His smile turns impish again. “Just promise me one thing.”

You raise an eyebrow warily. “What?”

“No spilling Red Bull secrets to your new Ferrari boyfriend, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I know he is muy guapo, but business is business!”

“Oh my god, stop! I would never.”

“Please. The heart eyes between you are obvious. Not that I blame you ...” He leans in conspiratorially. “Leclerc is quite the smooth talker, no?”

You lightly smack his shoulder, cheeks reddening. “Stop it. We’re just friends.”

“Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that.”

He slings an arm around your shoulder. “Just remember your duties if you get distracted mooning over pretty Ferrari boys, yes?”

You make a face at him. “Gross. As if I’d shirk my responsibilities over some silly crush.”

Even if said crush is on Charles freaking Leclerc. You do have some professionalism.

Checo just grins knowingly as you reach the counter. He grabs a plate of food and you follow suit. Settling at a table together, he fixes you with a brotherly stare.

“In all seriousness though chica, be careful with your heart. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You soften. Underneath his joking exterior, Checo is very protective of you. He’s like the big brother you never had.

“I will, I promise. Charles has been very respectful so far. We’re taking things slow.”

“Good.” Checo pats your hand. “No one is allowed to break your heart and get away with it. Even the Prince of Monaco himself,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes, but smile, leaning against his sturdy frame. “I’ll sic you on him if he steps out of line, don’t worry.”

Checo laughs. “Please do. I have always wanted an excuse to wipe that smug grin off Leclerc’s face.” His smile softens. “But truly, I hope he continues to make you happy, hermanita.”

“Thanks Checo.” You squeeze him tight, overcome with emotion. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He ruffles your hair fondly, ignoring your cries of protest. “And if Leclerc breaks your heart, I’ll break his legs, eh?”

You laugh. “I’ll remind him of that.” You check the time. “We should head back soon.”

You both bus your plates. As you exit, Checo slings an arm around your shoulders again.

“You’ve got this chica. Just remember, the heart wants what it wants. Even if it seems loco to the rest of us.”

You lean into him gratefully. “Thanks Checo. Seriously.”

He grins down at you. “Anytime. Now let’s go smash qualifying!”

You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you return to your data analysis. As annoying as Checo’s teasing is, it’s also kind of sweet how much he cares.

You know if anyone steps out of line and hurts you, Checo will come after them in a heartbeat. But something tells you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Charles.

Still … you appreciate Checo looking out for you. With everyone in your corner, you feel like for once, things in your love life might actually go right.

***

Qualifying flies by in a blur of adrenaline and data analysis. In the end, Max takes pole for Red Bull, with Charles slotting into P2 for Ferrari and Checo P3. A good starting position for both your drivers.

You’re on a high as you leave the garage after the debrief that evening. The sky is dusky purple, the paddock slowly emptying out. You hum to yourself, thinking of celebrating with Cassie over FaceTime later.

Rounding a corner toward the Red Bull hotel, you’re suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked into a shadowy alleyway. Heart leaping into your throat, you open your mouth to scream-

“Shhh, it’s me!” A familiar voice hisses as a hand clamps over your mouth.

You whirl around to find Charles pressed against you, eyes glinting in the shadows. Adrenaline pounds through you.

“Jesus, you scared me half to death!” You smack his chest, pulse racing. “I thought I was being kidnapped.”

“I’m sorry, chérie.” Charles grins, utterly unrepentant. “I could not resist surprising you when I saw you walking by.”

“So you grabbed me and dragged me into a dark alley? Real romantic.” You try to look stern, but can’t quite manage it. He’s just too charming.

Charles’ smile turns sheepish. “My apologies. I did not think it through properly.” His thumb strokes over your bottom lip softly. “I suppose I was … overzealous. I could not stop thinking about you all day.”

Your breath catches at the tender look in his eyes. He sways closer, backing you up against the alley wall.

“Truthfully, I just needed to do this ...”

His lips descend on yours, firm and seeking. For one stunned moment you freeze up — before kissing him back ardently, lost in bliss. His hands thread through your hair, angling you closer as he deepens the kiss.

It’s perfect.

After endless moments, you reluctantly part, gasping for air. Charles rests his forehead against yours, eyes dark.

“I have wanted to do that since our first date,” he confesses, trailing feather-light kisses across your jaw.

You clutch his shoulders, dizzy with euphoria. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about kissing you.”

He smiles against your skin, nipping your neck playfully. “Oh, I think I do, ma belle. Why do you think I bid on you at that auction?”

You still can’t believe your dream man wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It seems too good to be true.

Charles nuzzles your cheek tenderly. “I must be the luckiest man alive to have caught your attention.”

Heart overflowing, you draw him down into another dizzying kiss. Charles groans, crushing you closer. It feels like coming home, being in his arms. Like this is where you were always meant to be.

The distant sound of teams making their way out of the paddock finally breaks you apart. Charles caresses your face wistfully.

“I should let you get back. You need your rest before the race tomorrow and so do I.” He hesitates, looking shy. “Perhaps we could … get dinner afterwards? To celebrate?”

Your lips curve in a teasing smile. “Are you asking me on a second date, Mr. Leclerc?”

Pink stains his sharp cheekbones. “I suppose I am, Miss Y/L/N. If you would do me the honor?”

You tap your chin playfully. “Hmm. I suppose I could clear my schedule for you.”

His answering smile is radiant. On impulse, you grab his collar and pull him down into one last hungry kiss.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips. “Not that you’ll need it. Don’t tell Max or Checo I said this, but you’re the most talented driver out there.”

Charles looks endearingly dazed as you gently extricate yourself from his arms. With a flirty wave, you sashay out of the alley on shaky legs, mind spinning.

Pausing at the end, you glance back to see Charles leaning against the wall, gazing after you with pure adoration. He presses two fingers to his grinning lips that still tingle from your kiss.

You blow him one last discreet kiss before continuing on your way. Wait until Cassie hears about this!

***

Race day dawns sunny and clear — perfect conditions. In the Red Bull garage, you help Checo run through final preparations, tweaking setup and chatting strategy.

“Alright, the car is dialed in and ready to fly,” you tell him confidently.

Checo grins. “Perfecto. We will beat your boyfriend today, no?” He winks.

You roll your eyes, fighting a blush. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure, chica.” Checo ruffles your hair before heading to the grid.

It’s a chaotic blur of adrenaline and split-second decisions as you guide Checo through the field. In the end, Max takes the win for Red Bull, with Charles clinching P2 for Ferrari and Checo rounding out the podium in P3.

You rush to congratulate the drivers after, giving Checo a warm hug. “Great drive out there! The tire management really made a difference.”

He smiles. “But not enough to beat our rivals today, eh?” His gaze slides behind you.

You turn to see Charles approaching, fresh from the podium. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, hair adorably mussed. Your mouth goes dry.

Checo smirks knowingly. “I will leave you two alone. See you at the debrief.” He saunters off with a wink.

Charles beams, pulling you into a quick hug. “Congratulations. Your strategy was brilliant today.”

You grin. “Thanks, you did amazing too.” Your face heats realizing people nearby are staring and whispering.

Charles doesn’t seem to care, keeping your hand tucked in his. “I will wait for you outside the motorhome? Then perhaps we could celebrate ...” His smile turns hopeful.

You squeeze his hand, heart skipping. “Can’t wait.”

The debrief drags by endlessly. Finally you escape the garage into the late afternoon sunlight. True to his word, Charles is waiting, freshly showered and devastatingly handsome in a button-down and slacks.

“Y/N!” In two long strides he’s sweeping you into his arms and kissing you ardently, uncaring of the crowd of mechanics around you.

Catcalls and whistles break out. You blush fiercely as Charles sets you down, lacing your fingers together.

“Get it Leclerc!” One of his mechanics yells, making lewd gestures. Charles just flips him off casually, keeping his eyes on you.

“Shall we?”

You nod, face still burning. As Charles leads you away, your Red Bull colleagues join the teasing.

“Don’t wait up tonight boys!” One calls, making kissy noises.

“She’s ditching us for the red guys now!”

“Just don’t go spilling all our secrets, Y/N!”

You hide your face against Charles’ shoulder. He chuckles, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Pay them no mind, ma belle,” he murmurs against your hair. “They are just jealous I get to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You sigh happily, cuddling closer as you leave the paddock. The teasing means well — it’s their way of saying they approve. And nothing can dampen your euphoria at being with Charles again.

At the parking lot, a shiny red Ferrari awaits. Charles opens the door for you with a gallant bow before rounding the car and sliding in.

“So, where are we going?” You ask excitedly as Charles peels out onto the road. “Or do I not get to know the secret location?”

He glances at you sidelong, eyes glinting mischievously. “You will see. Let’s just say I … pulled some strings to arrange the perfect second date for us.”

You pout playfully. “Not even a little hint?”

Charles pretends to zip his lips. “Non, it is a surprise, ma petite.” His hand finds yours, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “But I think you will appreciate the … atmosphere I have created.”

The promise in his voice sends delicious shivers down your spine. You pass the drive chatting comfortably, exchanging soft, smiling glances.

After half an hour, Charles pulls up to a beautiful chateau perched on a vineyard-spotted hillside. You gasp as he escorts you inside the charming stone lodge.

“Charles, this is amazing! How did you arrange this on such short notice?”

He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I may have called in a favor from the owners, who are family friends. We have the whole place to ourselves tonight.” His eyes smolder.

You wander the chateau in a happy daze as Charles gives you a private tour. He’s thought of everything — flowers, candles, and even champagne chilling by the roaring fireplace.

Dinner is sumptuous, featuring all your favorite dishes paired expertly with rich wines from the vineyard. Charles is attentive as always, hanging on your every word.

Afterwards you cuddle together on the sofa, pleasantly tipsy, exchanging lazy kisses as you take in the spectacular starry view through the expansive windows.

Charles nuzzles into your neck, lips grazing your hammering pulse point. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?”

You shiver pleasurably. “I could stand to hear it again.”

He smiles against your skin. “You, mon amour, are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His voice drops an octave. “And it is taking every ounce of my self control not to tear that dress off you this instant.”

Heat coils in your core at the unspoken promise in his words. Your fingers curl into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, urgent.

With obvious effort, Charles forces himself to pull back, eyes blazing. “As much as I want you, we should take this slow. I want our first time to be special.” He strokes your cheek tenderly. “You deserve to be properly worshiped.”

Your heart swells at his care for you. You really hit the jackpot with this incredible man.

Cuddling against his chest, you look up at him adoringly. “You are … amazing"

Charles’ smile is soft, sincere. “I am only that way because you inspire me to be the best version of myself.” He kisses you sweetly. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”

You’ve never felt so cared for — so intensely adored. Here in Charles’ arms is exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

One Year Later

Strolling hand in hand with Charles along the Monaco harbor, you’ve never been happier. The sun glints off the water as he brushing featherlight kisses to your knuckles, making you giggle.

Charles lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your palm as you walk. “What are you thinking about, ma belle?”

You smile up at him. “Just reminiscing about everything that’s happened since you swept me off my feet.”

His eyes soften. “The best year of my life. I fall more in love with you every day.”

Heart full, you tug him down into a sweet kiss. Charles hums happily against your lips.

“Well isn’t this cozy!” An approaching voice interrupts. You pull apart to see Lucy, the Amber Lounge organizer who convinced you to participate in the auction last year, beaming at you both.

“Lucy! Hi.” You accept her enthusiastic hug.

“Don’t you two make the cutest couple?” She winks conspiratorially. “I always knew there was a spark between you.”

You laugh, lacing your fingers through Charles’ once more. His answering smile is radiant.

“I’m so thrilled it worked out.” Lucy glances between you eagerly. “So, given it’s almost that time of year again … any chance you lovebirds would let us auction you off once more? Think of the publicity!”

You tense, old anxieties rising. But before you can respond, Charles’ grip on your hand tightens.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” His voice is lethally pleasant. “How about I simply drop off a cheque for an 100,000 euro donation, and you leave my girlfriend alone?”

A frisson of heat shoots through you at his possessive tone. Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles soothingly, holding your gazes, before fixing Lucy with a warning look.

“We will of course still attend the gala to show support. But the auction is off limits. Understood?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Lucy gulps. “Y-Yes, of course. My apologies if I overstepped.” She nods at you both. “Have a lovely evening!”

With that she scurries back inside the Amber Lounge.

“Good day to you.” With that, he guides you away down the street, tension radiating from him.

You glance at him in concern once you’re out of earshot. “Are you okay?”

Charles drags a hand through his hair. “Yes, I just … the thought of them putting you on display again ...” He shudders.

Your heart melts realizing why he got so defensive. You halt, turning Charles gently to face you.

“That was very macho and possessive of you back there,” you murmur, walking your fingers up his chest.

Charles winces. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to be so overbearing-”

You silence him with a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. I said it was macho and possessive.” You lean up to purr in his ear. “And so. Freaking. Hot.”

Charles’ eyes widen. Grinning, you shove him back against the brick wall and kiss him fiercely. He grunts in surprise before responding in kind, nipping your bottom lip.

“If I had known getting possessive would get this reaction, I would have done it ages ago,” he gasps out between kisses.

You silenced his laughter with your mouth, desire burning through you. The raw protectiveness Charles showed took your breath away. You’ve never felt so safe, so cared for.

Finally you break apart and Charles pulls you firmly against his chest. “I love you,” he breathes against your hair. “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you too.” You can feel the beating of his heart beneath your ear. “Now take me home and show me just how much you missed me this morning.”

Charles’ eyes darken. With a roguish grin he sweeps you into his arms, making you shriek. Laughing joyfully, he carries you down the street toward your shared apartment.

If the rest of your life together is even half as magical as this past year with Charles, you’ll die a happy woman.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖: ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕚𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, switch!reader, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, age gap (college senior rafe x young professor), icky rafe at the beginning, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, teasing, oral male receiving, orgasm denial, light bdsm

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This is a combination of a few similar asks. The premise is that Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class, and when his professor sees that the frat house is auctioning date nights for charity, she can’t help but place her bid.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Your heels click down the aisle of the large lecture hall, surveying the crowd of students; a packed house, row upon row of upperclassman seated about. Turning on your heels, you look toward the back row, empty per usual, soon to be filled at 5 minutes past the hour was a horde of rowdy frat boys.

The door swings open right on cue, a line of them falling in, their president holding up the back. He smiles at you, giving you a lazy grin as he skims his fingers through his hair.

Rafe didn't just come into class late; he barely paid attention, wrote nothing in his notebook, cracked jokes with his brothers, and took a little naps when the night before had gotten too out of hand.

Then there was the way he looked at you on those specific days—the days when he was feeling rather bold and unashamed. He’d shoot his shot, talking to you like some girl he was hitting on at the bar.

“Can’t focus on shit when you look so pretty, professor y/n.”

“I’m tryin’ to raise my grade, professor y/n. Is participation based on how much I pay attention to you?”

“I get nervous when you say my name, professor y/n. The answer just slipped my mind. I'm sorry. M’paying attention… I swear.”

The smug smile never leaves his face as he speaks. And you’d be a liar if you said his little passes didn't make your heart flutter, but each advance was brushed aside or met with a cold, professional response that only made him more determined.

Students started to filter out, but he stayed back, wanting to “challenge a recent grade.” No one believed him, including his brothers. He pushed them toward the door as they snickered and gossiped about Rafe getting you alone.

Rafe walks toward the front, hands stuffed in his jeans, his t-shirt stretched across his chest and arms, his muscular body straining the fabric. He wipes his hand across his smirk when you look up at him, giving him the attention he was craving you would.

"Great lecture, Professor y/n," he smiles as he shuffles closer.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron. If only you’d listened,” you quip, your eyes scanning over your attendance sheet, making notes for daily participation.

Rafe chuckles at the joke, moving within arm's reach. You look up toward the door, checking to see if you are alone, butterflies filling your stomach when you notice you are.

“Hey, I listen,” he scoffs, playing along with the game you shouldn't have played in the first place. “Sometimes I just get distracted,” Rafe smiles as his eyes fall to the hem of your pencil skirt, working their way back to your eyes far too slowly.

Your heart starts to race under the weight of his gaze. “Getting too distracted is gonna get you in trouble-”

“I hope so,” he smiles, cutting you off, twisting your words in the process.

You roll your eyes as you reach for your coat and book bag. “Mr. Cameron, I’m not just some girl, and I'm your professor-”

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, butting in again as he steps closer. His eyes fall to your tits as your back arches unintentionally while you slip your arm into your jacket.

“I don't know what game you're playing, but I need to get to my next class if you have nothing to ask me.”

"No games, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot to him. “Sorry. Damn, m’sorry… Professor y/n,” he corrects himself, dragging out your title for emphasis. “No games,” he assures you as you step past him, walking toward the exit. You turn over your shoulder, Rafe’s blue eyes lifting from your ass to your sharpened gaze. “I am good at games, Professor y/n. If you wanna play sometime-”

“Goodbye, Rafe,” you dismiss him with a cold bite. You hear a few laughs from behind the door you're walking toward, making the heat of embarrassment pool in your cheeks.

You push into the hallway, moving quickly to your next class. The university’s bustling with students, the noise occupying what little space you have left, your mind consumed with thoughts of Rafe and what happened.

You turn the corner, weaving past the line in front of the coffee shop, slowing when you see the neon sign tapped against the wall.

HoliDate - Omega Beta Chi Fraternity Charity Auction

Win a Date with the men of ΩBX to support Charleston Children’s Hospital this Holiday Season

You sit in the back row of the theater, watching each of the frat boys strut out onto the stage one by one.

Rafe Cameron. He steps out onto the stage, dressed in a fitted black suit, making you swoon. He runs his fingers through his hair, his classic backward hat gone. He looks devilishly handsome—quickly flashing a cocky smile at the audience, making the catcalling and applause crescendo. You look around, watching phones glow as people rapidly scan their QR codes, prepping to place bids.

“And next, Senior and Omega Beta Chi President Rafe Cameron, everyone. HoliDate bidding starts at $100…”

The crowd blows past the opening bid in seconds. Your heart pounds as the offers climb: $200, $300, $400. You look down at your phone and type your own: $500.

"$600," the auctioneer calls, someone outbidding before you can even react.

$700. You punch in the number and hold your breath, waiting for someone to counter it again. The auctioneer looks down at his iPad, then to the crowd, counting down. "Sold! To our anonymous bidder!”

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keys as you think of what to do next. You leave your name anonymous, providing your cell phone number instead.

Your phone buzzes in your purse as you walk out to your car. You rummage for it quickly, pulling it out of your bag; looking down at the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Hi, sweetheart

You: Hi!

Rafe: So, what do you want to do tonight? I'm all yours.

Rafe: I’m up for anything.

You: Meet me at eight at 5th and Main. Don't be late ♥️

"Professor y/n?" Rafe calls, a hint of disbelief in his voice as his head turns from left to right, scanning the street as he steps closer.

“Mr. Cameron,” you smile up at him.

“Umm… Are you, uh-”

“Waiting for a cab,” you cut him off. The excitement in his face falls fast. “And you.”

“And me?” Rafe asks. His blue eyes widen on yours as he fights back a sweeping smile. “Well, shit…”

“Is that okay?” You ask.

“You kiddin’ me?” He answers fast as his eyes fall lower, catching a hint of red satin peeking out of your peacoat. “This is perfect,” Rafe softens his tone as he steps closer. “So, where are we goin’?”

“Well, we can take the cab to The Rex,” you offer, mentioning the new restaurant downtown, “or you can come over for dinner and drinks at my house if you’d like.”

He smiles—a blush creeping across his cheek, enough so that he has to look away for a moment to collect himself. “We can go to your place, Miss…” He draws out the word, waiting for you to give him your name. You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat in his chest.

“Y/n.” He echoes your name gently like it's the prettiest thing he’s heard. You look to your left, watching the cab slow-roll to a stop. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, ushering you to the car before helping you inside.

The ride is short—only a few blocks. You make light conversation with him, surprised with how well it's going considering how he is in class—a very different man than when he’s in front of his brothers, charming even. You rest your hand on his thigh as he tells a joke, making his eyes flicker down. He smiles at the contact before looking back up at you.

“You look different,” he whispers.

“Different good or different bad?” You ask with a slight tip of the head and a breathy laugh that has him resting his hand on top of yours.

“Good," he smiles. “So fuckin’ good.”

“Different, though. How so?” You ask curiously, and he wets his lip, looking down at yours.

“You’re smilin’ at me. You don't usually do that…”

The cab rolls to a stop, and Rafe opens the door, helping you out before walking with you to your downtown apartment.

Rafe’s eyes float around the space as you guide him inside. The house’s decorated for the holidays; just a few things here and there. The table is set for two, with a bottle of champagne on ice.

“Holy shit,” he smiles as he rocks back on his heels slightly, coming to the conclusion that you wanted this more, your house set just in case he’d say ‘yes’. Rafe unbuttons his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders, leaving him in a fitted white button-down. He watches you closely, desperate to see what’s under your peacoat after getting a taste before. You untie the belt, taking your jacket off as well.

Rafe stands across from you—air filling his lungs as he tries to hold tight his usual confidence, failing miserably.

His blue eyes fix on you, wide and unblinking, tracing every line of your red dress, studying you, taking it all into memory. Rafe swallows hard, stumbling slightly as he kicks off one dress shoe, then the other.

You turn around, strolling toward the dining room, grabbing the champagne.

You over your shoulder just like you did this afternoon after class; Rafe’s eyes shift higher—the hunger in his eyes unmistakable.

“Champagne?” You ask, your voice smooth and teasing as you catch him in the act.

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words get caught on his tongue. Rafe laughs nervously, raking his hand through his hair, trying to recall your simple question.

“Champagne,” you smile, repeating the word.

“Yeah… Yes. Uhh—please,” he stammers, his voice wavering in a way it hasn’t before. You pour yourself a glass, then Rafe, the two of you, watching as the bubbles sparkle, tumbling over the side. “You look…” Rafe clears his voice, fluttering his lashes as he tries to compose himself.

“Yes?” You ask as you step a little closer, passing him the glass.

“You look stunning, y/n… I mean, you’re always beautiful-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, letting out a breathless laugh. “You’re makin’ me nervous.”

“You have a way of doing that to me, too,” you answer sweetly.

The doorbell rings; the food you ordered arrives just in time. The two of you sit together, discussing life and plans. Liquor flows, loosening the both of you up; Rafe pops a second bottle of bubbly for the two of you.

“Cheers,” he lifts his glass, making you do the same.

“Cheers,” you smile as you click your glass against his, taking a small sip as he moves closer.

“So…”

”So,” you breathe as you look up at him.

“Why me?” He asks as he leans in a little more. Rafe’s warm cologne fills your nose— the heat of his body so close makes your pulse spike.

“Why do you think?” You question, throwing the query back to him. He hesitates and smirks, cheeks flushing again, wanting to say the right thing.

"’Cause you wanted to see me outside of class?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure.

“Mhmm… I wanted to see if you were the Rafe Cameron everyone sees in class or if that was just some act you were putting on for everyone.”

His brows pinch together, confusion painted over his pretty face. “M’not that bad,” he mumbles against the rim of his glass as the corners of his lips curl into a slight smile.

“I beg to differ, Mr. Cameron.”

He cocks his eyebrow as you get back to the basics, using his last name instead of his first. “Why else am I here, Professor y/n?” He asks, his voice hoarse and hungry as he moves even closer.

“Well, I think you need to learn a lesson…”

Rafe swallows hard, his face mere inches from you as his rough hand trails up your bare thigh, disappearing slightly under the satin. "What kind of lesson?" He whispers needily as his eyes fall slightly, locking on your lips again.

You take your finger, hook it under his chin, guiding his gaze to yours. “The kind of lesson where you learn respect,” you smile as your hand rests on his upper thigh, moving higher and higher. He takes a little breath, letting out a soft groan. “Boundaries,” you whisper as your fingers trace around his rock-hard cock, strained against the zipper. “And discipline,” you pull your hand away with a smile. Rafe expels the breath he was holding, his eyes softening in desperation.

”Please,” he mumbles as you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth and cheek, leaning into his ear as he wraps his arms around you, needing you closer.

Your teeth scratch against the shell of his ear as your hands roam his broad chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and quick breathing under your palm. “What do you want, Mr. Cameron-”

“You,” he answers hastily. “I want you, Professor y/n.”

“Good boy.”

You step off the couch and walk toward your bedroom, smiling as he follows you close. Rafe steps toward you, chest pressed against your back, tucking himself into your neck as his hands grab your hips. You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your skin. He releases a shaky breath, not wanting to kiss you without permission, hoping to get what he needs and fast.

You can tell by his hold and how he carries himself that he isn’t used to giving over control. But, Rafe Cameron wants nothing but to get back in your good graces…

You wrap your fingers around the red satin bow around your waist, tugging it loose. Letting it slip through your fingers, as you turn around, looking up at him.

His gaze falls to your hands, seeing the ribbon. “You look nervous, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice a soft purr, pulling his focus back to your eyes as you toss it to the bed.

"No, Professor. I—” his words trail away as he hears the pull of your zipper, the satin material falling to a puddle at your feet, leaving you in nothing but red lace.

“You just what?” You ask as you step closer, fingering the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he mumbles.

You smile as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders, working on his pants next. “Flattery won't get you out of trouble, Mr. Cameron."

He shakes his head, eyes rolling back in his head as he watches you lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his dress slack and pulling them off. “I’m not tryin’ to get out of trouble. I swear—I,” he groans as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock through his boxers, making his abs flex. “I just can’t stop looking at you,” he breathes, lips parting as your mouth wraps around his thick tip, wetting the fabric. He cups the back of your head, his eyes shutting heavily. “I'll be good. I'll be whatever you want,” he pleads, his voice raw and hoarse.

You wrap your fingers around the band of his boxers, looking up at him with a smile. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Shit—Yes, I’ll be so fuckin’ good. Alright? I promise. Just keep going.”

His breath hitches as you pull down his boxers. You let out a breathy sigh as you see his cock; long and thick, curved slightly, tip pulsing and wet with precum.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his length, making him bite his bottom lip. He watches your every movement, mesmerized as you lean in, tongue swirling and flicking across his tip, making goosebumps spread across his tanned, toned skin.

“Bed,” you smile. Rafe moves quickly, his breathing heavy as he shifts onto your bed. “Grab the rails.” Rafe lifts his arms above his head, gripping the metal tightly, giving you complete control. He continues to study you, the deliberate sway of your hips driving him mad. Grabbing the ribbon, you crawl on top of him, resting your warm, wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding nice and slow. You lean forward, wrapping the soft satin around his wrists, tying it into a pretty little bow.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Professor," he huffs through a wide smile.

“I could say the same about you.” You lean down for a kiss, hovering just above his lips. Rafe chases your mouth as you pull away, denying him that.

"Look, I get it. You're trying to teach me somethin’, and I deserve it-”

”But what?" You ask in a taunting tone.

"But you're killin’ me," he blurts, tugging against the ribbon, making his big biceps flex. “I’m not used to this? I'm used to bein’ in control.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk. “Oh, I noticed,” you smile as you trace your finger down his chest, through his abs, cutting along his v-lines before teasing his cock, watching him twitch.

"You think you've got me all figured out. Don’t you?”

“I do…” You smile as your nails scratch down his muscular thighs.

"I've been good...”

“We just started,” you whisper against his tip before wrapping your lips around him. Rafe throws his head back into the pillow, pulling against the restraints as you let him slide into your mouth, taking him to the back of your throat.

“Yes, fuckkk…” He groans. “That’s it, baby.”

Rafe looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his thick dick slide between your slick, swollen lips. You moan around his girth, watching the way his eyes roll back at the feeling of the vibrations.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock again, licking a few fat stripes up the bottom of his shaft.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groans, fighting to keep his eyes open as you throat his cock again.

His big hands ball into fists as you start jerking his dick as well, sucking on his tip, making him gasp, his muscles coiling tight.

“Shit. Shit. Shittt,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth. Hey—” He huffs as you pull off his cock with a wet pop, looking down at him with a wicked smile. “What the fuck?” He pants, his face twisted in frustration.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

His cock pulses—incredibly hard, red and swollen; Rafe, just seconds away from cumming down your throat. "You want to teach me a lesson? Fuckin’ fine. But let's stop pretendin’ this is just about that. Aight? You need me,” he grunts. “$700 for a lesson, bullshit. You want me to take care of you. Let me fuckin’ go.”

“Or what?”

"What are you teachin’ me a lesson for anyways? It’s not my fuckin’ fault. Alright? It’s yours… It’s the only way I can get your attention. You’ve been drivin’ me crazy all fuckin’ semester," he huffs, his voice low and rough. "Every time I piss you off, I get your attention; every time I come in late, your eyes are on me. And when I don’t pay attention, you call me out by name—I can't stop thinkin’ about you. Ain’t that what you want, Professor y/n. Fuckin’ sue me for wanting your attention.”

“There are other ways to get my attention, Rafe,” you whisper through a soft smile.

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it,” he counters. “I think it's my time to take charge." Rafe looks up, seeing the end of the red bow, quickly catching it between his teeth, tugging at it fast, making your heart race as he yanks himself the rest of the way out. He rolls you to your back, lips crashing against yours for the first time in a deep, passionate kiss.

Rafe crushes you under his big body, taking complete control. Your hands reach around him, gripping his big shoulders. He deepens the kiss, fingers digging into your skin.

He pulls back slightly, licking his lips in anticipation, rubbing his cockfat head around your aching hole before pushing inside. You moan in pleasure— the both of you watching as your wet pussy pulls him in.

You throw your head back on the pillow, body reeling, pleasure coursing through your veins at how deliciously he fills you up. You grab his big biceps as he picks up the pace, nails driving into his skin.

“So fuckin’ tight…” He groans. “God, you’re wet.”

Rafe cups the back of your head, steering you to look at the space between the two of you, watching his thick cock pound into you fast—your arousal slicked and glistened between rough thrusts.

Your lips brush against his as you claw at his back, pulling him closer, making him fuck you even deeper than before as your body tightens around him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, raspy and thick.

“Yes. Fuck,” you whimper.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuckin stop, Professor y/n. Good news for you, I wanna fill up this pretty pussy.”

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cry.

He picks up the rhythm, thrusting into you faster and harder.

"Then you better come for me. Yeah? Show me what a good girl you can be,” he growls in your ear, taking back the power he lost. “Think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

His name leaves your lips in a broken sob as you cum around his cock; toes curling, back arching, tits pressing into his muscular chest. Rafe’s hips stutter, filling you to the brim as he continues to pound into your warm, wet cunt.

He nuzzles into you, kissing along your neck as you come down from your high together.

Rafe draws a deep breath as he pulls back, claiming your lips in a tender kiss. "Did you learn anything?" You giggle between breathless kisses, making him smile against your lip.

"No… Didn’t learn shit," he mutters. “Good thing we’re just gettin’ started.

[allpiesforourown]

Goodnight imagine shen yuan signing up for a charity date auction. His mentality is "everyone will be fighting over Binghe and no one will want me, I'll just tell Shang Qinghua to spend a good amount on me and pay him back later. It's for a good cause!"

The plan seems foolproof. Shang Qinghua makes the bid. The auctioneer asks if anyone will match it. Then things start going wrong when several people do.

Shen Yuan is super embarrassed as Shang Qinghua keeps promising to donate more more and more. Even Liu Qingge bids for him!! It's nice of Liu-di to think Shen Yuan is worth so much, but he's raised his bid 3 times now!! There's doing something nice for your friend and then there's drawing unnecessary attention!

Shang Qinghua helplessly shrugs his shoulders because they're WELL over the amount Shen Yuan gave him beforehand.

Auctioneer: and will anyone match Liu Qingge's bid?

Binghe: I WILL!

Auctioneer: ...you already have a date. Someone spent a lot of money on you

Binghe: FUCK

Liu Qingge and Shen Yuan have their (totally platonic) date at a nice restaurant with a dress code and Shen Yuan teasingly says Liu-di looks good out of sportswear too. Liu Qingge blushes and they have their regular one sided conversations where Shen Yuan blabs and Liu Qingge listens while giving one word every five minutes.

In comes Luo Binghe with a steel chair

Binghe: wow, yuan-ge, we chose the same restaurant for our dates!

Binghes date: no we didn't, I wanted to go somewhere else!

Binghe ignoring her and pulling up a chair at Shen Yuan and Liu Qingge's table: how about we all dine together? Great :) Yuan-ge, there's something on your face let me get that for you...

[plethorawrites]

Imagining older boyfriend Bruce Wayne who adores his younger girlfriend.

Bruce Wayne: Who spotted you at a charity auction, as the date of some young pompous politician's son who clearly stood no chance with you.

Bruce Wayne: Who hung on your every word all night when your date left you for some heiress who may be rich but was no where near as interesting, intelligent, or gorgeous.

Bruce Wayne: Who talked himself out of asking you on a date because you were in your mid-twenties and he was in his forties, and he was convinced you'd want nothing to do with him.

Bruce Wayne: Who accidentally ran into you again and again not realizing you were a journalist and upon discovering it immediately read everything you've ever written, even the stuff from your college thesis.

Bruce Wayne: Who finally caved and asked you to dinner, not expecting it to go anywhere since you were so different, but ended up having one of the best dates of his life.

Bruce Wayne: Who took you to four events in three weeks, which he'd normally decline out of disinterest but kept attending because it meant he got to see you.

Bruce Wayne: Who took you to bed after the fifth date and treated you like a goddess the entire night, not to mention well into the morning when you woke up to breakfast in bed and had him kissing up and down your arms while you ate strawberries.

Bruce Wayne: Who started buying you gifts constantly, even though you told him it wasn't necessary— stupidly expensive dresses for you to wear to galas he plans to take you to, jewelry to match, purses to replace your old and cheap ones.

Bruce Wayne: Who paid off your student loans after you made a joke about being in debt, which you were, and only told you because the bank declined one of your payments, saying you had paid it off in full. All 97k. He said it was spare change.

Bruce Wayne: Who received a slew of insults and a lot of name calling from the media, plus several comments and quips from his kids, especially Dick, who you were technically younger than, but ignored all of them because you made him happy.

Bruce Wayne: Who sometimes struggled with self doubt every time he saw you talking to a guy your own age and made sure to remind you why no one else could please you as well as him.

Bruce Wayne: Who spends his mornings laying with you and on you, his fingers stroking your bare arms while he peppered your neck with kisses after spending all night showing you how much he loved you— how young he felt with you.

[msgexymunson]

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

��N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 

‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend. 

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 

“Fifty dollars!” 

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 

“One hundred dollars!” 

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 

The man at the back called out, “right here!” 

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 

“One thirty!” 

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 

He's yours. 

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 

“-nevermind. Thank you.” 

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 

“Woof! Woo-” 

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 

“What are you doing?” 

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  

“This isn't a date, Eds.” 

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let's get out of here.” 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 

“What else would I do?” 

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 

“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 

“I'm in love with you.” 

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.” 

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 

“Can we go to my bedroom?” 

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 

“Do I need to put a towel down?” 

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 

“You want me to stay?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.” 

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 

Sweet. You sound sweet. 

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 

“Eddie, I lo-” 

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 

“Right there princess?” 

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 

“Eddie, that was perfect.” 

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 

“Right, now, just hang on.” 

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 

“I can change the sheets if you want-” 

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 

“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[solarmorrigan]

Silly idea I talked about ages ago with @azure7539arts, inspired by a similar event my workplace hosts every year. Would minors be allowed to participate in such an event? Probably not! But then again, it was the 80s, who can say for sure. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'll post nonsense if I want to <3

-

“I need you to buy me.”

Eddie looks up from his notebook, effectively jarred from his campaign-plotting fugue state by Steve’s declaration.

Steve is standing at the other end of the dining table, staring at him expectantly.

“Y’know, this is the part where someone usually follows up their completely bonkers demand with an explanation,” Eddie says slowly.

“At the charity auction,” Steve clarifies. “I need you to bid on me, and I need you to win.”

Ah, yes, that weird Rent-an-Athlete charity auction the school runs every year; anyone on any Hawkins High sports team could volunteer to be “auctioned” off in order to raise money for said sports team, to spend a day at the beck and call of the highest bidder (within reason, supposedly). It’s generally restricted to students, but occasionally, prominent alumni are invited to participate – and Steve certainly fits the bill, especially after the story the government spun about his heroism in the face of “serial killer” Henry Creel last spring.

“And what, deny all those pretty girls a chance to get at you?” Eddie asks drily (he’d never turned up at previous auctions himself, but you could hardly avoid gossip in a school their size; it had usually been some cheerleader bidding with daddy’s money who won a date– that is, a day with Steve Harrington).

“It wasn’t always a girl who won,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest. “One time it was Mrs. Dalton – you know, the lady on the school board who lives on my block? I just spent the day doing yard work for her. She gave me lemonade. That was pretty cool.”

“Right,” Eddie drawls. “And I’m sure she definitely didn’t sit outside and stare at your ass while you were working.”

“She did not– she– I mean she was on the porch, but, like– she wouldn’t have– she’s, like, seventy, Eddie,” Steve splutters, and it’s all Eddie can do not to laugh.

“Older gals have needs, too, Steve,” Eddie says, giving in to a smirk. “So she was checking you out from the porch, huh?”

Steve goes red. “Shut up, that isn’t the point. I’m trying to ask for your help.”

“Right, right, your absolutely reasonable request for me to buy you at market. Why, again?” Eddie asks.

“The kids are planning to bid on me,” Steve says gravely.

Eddie blinks at him. “Okay?” he says, when no further explanation is forthcoming. “You basically do most of what they ask, anyway, so…?”

“Okay, believe it or not, I actually say no to at least half of what they ask me to do. I would literally never get anything done if I gave in to all their demands.” Steve jabs a finger at Eddie, who holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, this is all Henderson’s fault.”

“It usually is,” Eddie agrees, nodding sagely.

“He decided that he was going to bid on me and then use that day to finally make me play your nerd game with you–” Eddie snorts, and Steve shoots him a look, “but Wheeler doesn’t want me to play, so he said he was going to bid against Dustin and make me do anything but sit in on a session with you guys.”

“So let Wheeler win.” Eddie shrugs.

“No! I can’t let fuckin’ Mike win, he’ll probably make me do something even more ridiculous!” Steve exclaims. "He’ll make me play chauffeur for him and El on a date, or something, and he’ll probably include the stupid hat.”

“Wait, I thought El broke up with him,” Eddie breaks in.

“No, they’re on again,” Steve says absently, shaking his head. “Which is why Max has been in a bad mood lately.”

Eddie bites back the reflexive need to ask “How can you tell?”, going instead with, “I thought she and Sinclair were on again.”

“No, they are. That’s why no one’s been actively murdered,” Steve says.

“How do you keep track of all of this?” Eddie asks, squinting at Steve.

“It’s a natural skill. And we’re getting off track,” Steve says quickly. “Normally, I wouldn’t be that worried, because Dustin regularly blows his savings on weird science gadgets or whatever, but then Lucas and Will started taking sides.”

“This is getting very involved,” Eddie says.

“So you see why I’m stressed!” Steve insists, smacking a hand to his forehead (personally, Eddie thinks Steve is stressed for many other reasons, but he figures pointing that out just now won’t be appreciated). “Lucas is on Dustin’s side, and that kid does odd jobs like nobody’s goddamn business; he actually has shit saved up. And usually I’d have faith in him being more, like, sensible than to spend it all on this, but the little shit is really fucking competitive.”

“Wonder who he got that from?” Eddie mutters.

“Okay, we do remember that I’m not actually biologically related to any of these idiots, right?” Steve snaps.

“Well now we’re just getting into nature versus nurture–”

“Eddie.”

“Right, sorry, continue.”

“Well, Will took Mike’s side–”

“Shocking.”

“Right? But anyway, I don’t know if the kid has much saved up, but between him and Wheeler, they might be able to win.” Steve sighs, looking far more world-weary than Eddie feels the situation really warrants.

“You know you don’t actually have to do what they ask you to, right?” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If an auction winner complains to the school that the person they bid on didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain, they can get their money back. It’s a whole…” he waves his hand vaguely, “thing. Happened once when I was a sophomore; Deacon McNab. Lost a good chunk of change for the football team, and they vandalized the shit out of his car.”

“Ah, right. Forgot we went to school with literal psychopaths,” Eddie hums.

“So, I just need you to bid on me and win, so I’m not stuck wasting a Saturday on whatever the hell the kids are going to try to make me do. Or not do. Or– whatever,” Steve says.

“Okay, not that I don’t understand your predicament here, but I think you’re forgetting something kind of important, Steve,” Eddie drawls.

Steve’s brows draw together in question. “What?”

“I’m fucking poor.”

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t mean– no, I will give you the money, you don’t have to spend a dime, man, I just need you to get me out of this.”

“Why not have Buckley do it?” Eddie asks.

“That was Plan A, but she actually has a date that night, and it’s kind of a big deal, so I don’t want her to cancel,” Steve says. “But I assumed you wouldn’t be busy.”

“Wow, rude,” Eddie scoffs, and Steve sighs.

“Fine, sorry, I just really hoped you wouldn’t be busy.” Steve gives him the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes Eddie has ever seen, as if there had been any chance from the beginning that he’d be able to say no. “Please?”

Just for show, Eddie lets out a long sigh, falling against his chair and letting his head flop over the backrest like he’s deflating.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Steve groans, sounding so genuinely relieved that Eddie almost feels bad about how quickly his thoughts dip into the realms of the inappropriate. “Oh my god, I owe you.”

Eddie glances back up at Steve, tongue darting out to wet his lips almost unconsciously. “You know I’m not as easy to appease as a couple of fifteen-year-olds, right?”

Steve’s eyes drop for just a second—maybe down to Eddie’s lips, maybe not; who can say?—before he looks back up, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “I think I can handle it.”

Slowly, Eddie grins. “We’ll see.”

[sorchathered]

All I want for Christmas is you🎄

A/N- Hey y’all! This is my submission for @bellaireland1981 Hallmark Holiday writing challenge! A little corny, perfectly christmassy, and just in time for the holidays! I hope you all love it!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (callsign Fawn)

Warnings- Language, Angst, Jake Seresin in love

Summary- the squad gets roped into a holiday charity auction, where dates with single male aviators are the prize. Will you bite the bullet and tell Jake how you feel before Christmas break? Or will you have to watch him go on a date with someone else?

The air was filled with excitement this week. Christmas block leave started in a few days and Maverick could tell that everyone on his team was going to be completely useless. No one could blame them though; it had been a hell of a year and going home for a few days was a guaranteed way to boost their spirits and get them back in the game for the new year. The knock on his office door was unexpected though, and when Admiral Simpson marched into his office he knew the time for celebration was probably on hold. Matching orders in hand he groaned as he made his way down to the ready room; the guys were going to hate every minute of this. It would be hilarious.

"I guess Cyclone's wife is part of some fancy supper club and they decided to auction off dates with single aviators as a big prize. I mean it all goes to charity so l guess it's not all bad." Natasha says with a shrug as she digs into her lunch, Bradley looks less than enthused about the whole ordeal and Jake doesn't seem to have a care in the world. "It's more like we got volun-told to do it, the only consolation is a four day weekend, if you ask me we could have at least gotten a gift card or something." Bradley grumbles, and you can't help but agree it does seem pretty meager considering they are basically being sold to a bunch of middle aged women to ogle them. You can't help but be a little annoyed at how chill Jake seems about it though; it's not like the two of you were serious or anything, but the little green monster was clawing at you at the thought of someone else holding his attention. You'd unpack that later, now wasn't the time.

If Jake seems unphased to you then it must be a Christmas miracle, he can’t stop wondering what you’re thinking about this whole ordeal; would you bid on him? Would he have to go on some stupid date with a 50+ year old divorcee and make small talk? He didn’t mind being ogled for charity, it was for a good cause and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t know he looked as good as he does. He should tell you how he feels, just bite the bullet and ask you to be his girlfriend. The thought of you laughing over the ridiculousness of him settling down has kept him from making the declaration, he may seem cocky and cool headed but on the inside? Well he’s a big ball of nerves when it comes to you. You weren’t like anyone he’d ever been into before, and the thought of getting turned down was down right soul crushing. So he’d settled for casual hook ups, late night booty calls and shitty diner food late at night when you wanted company. He wanted more; real dates where he held your hand and got dressed up to eat fancy shit he couldn’t pronounce, waking up and eating breakfast together, goodnight kisses before you passed out in each other's arms. He was getting soft, or at least that’s what Javy said when he got that dopey look on his face when you entered the room. He’d tell you after Christmas block leave, surely by then he’d have his shit together enough to make his case.

You had to admit that while the San Diego women’s supper club was a stuffy bunch, they certainly knew how to throw a swanky affair. The ballroom of the Lafayette Hotel was decked to the brim with an old Hollywood Christmas vibe. Garlands covered in holly and poinsettias covered the doorways, Christmas lights and candles as far as the eye could see, as a jazz band played holiday classics while the crowd of upper class ladies mingled with their crystalline glasses of spirits. It very much felt like stepping back in time; almost as if Sinatra himself was preparing to take the stage. You were definitely glad Phoenix had the forethought to drag you and Halo out to dress shop earlier in the week, your cocktail dress you usually donned for weddings wouldn't have cut it for something like this. The event said black tie and they weren’t kidding, even the guys in the squad had shown up in tuxes, and you had to keep your composure because Jake Seresin in a suit was a feast for the eyes. He mingled a little with the group as he made his way over to you, beer in hand because you can dress him up but he’s still a good ol’ southern boy at heart. His gaze over your frame heated your skin, and he knew damn well he had you flustered, flicking his toothpick around in his mouth as he grinned at you.

“You look good Fawn, damn good.” You felt good too, it was a beautiful night and he was by your side, now if only you could get yourself together enough to tell him how you felt. “I have something I need to talk to you about Jake, before we all go on block leave and don’t see each other until the new year.” He cocks an eyebrow at you and leans in so he can give you his full attention, this is it, just jump off the edge headfirst and tell him you want a real relationship. “I want us-“ You hear someone clear their throat behind you, it’s Admiral Simpson and his wife- beckoning all the eligible bachelors to meet up on stage so the auction can begin. With a groan Jake drops his head to your ear, squeezing your hand as an apology as he asks you to hold that thought. Ugh! You should’ve just said something sooner, now you’ll be left with your anxiety to keep you company while you watch a bunch of women place their bids. The girls make their way back to their seats, Halo suggests that Phoenix should place her bets on Coyote; Lord knows neither of them have been subtle about their hookups these days.

“I doubt any of us has the money to throw around that these rich old bags do.” “Oh my God Phe!” You crack a smile at her crassness, she and Javy seem so solid; nothing like the uncertainty you feel in your gut right now.

“Oh shit, isn’t that Admiral Roger’s ex wife? The one Jake got trash duty for hooking up with?” Halo whispers as an elegant looking woman walks past them with a sneer. “Fuck. Yeah that’s her. She got reported by Mav for stalking Jake too, went completely bat shit after their hookup and wanted to be his sugar mama or some shit. She’s bad news. You don’t think she’ll bid on him do you?” Phoenix said, frown etching her pretty features as she looked at you for an answer. You didn’t have one, you hadn’t even thought about her in months. She’d really fucked with Jake mentally, it was part of the reason you’d kept relationship talk off the table because you were afraid you’d run him off after that train wreck. If she was here it was almost guaranteed that it was to stir the pot, you had to do something, anything to keep him out of her cross hairs. “Phe, I gotta go talk to Mav- but we have to protect Jake. See what everyone’s got in extra cash- we may need it.”

The auction was definitely a success, these ladies knew what they wanted and went for it. Harvard had gone for 5,000 and as the rest of the guys were filing out you imagined the prices would just keep rising. The feeling in your stomach felt more like a boulder as you watched the former Mrs. Rogers and her gaggle of snotty girlfriends ogle over each of your friends. This was supposed to be a fun joke for charity but the more you thought about this woman using it to manipulate the man you loved the more sick you felt. Mav had assured you that he’d handle it as best he could; Iceman seemed confident that combined everyone could place a bet to win Jake and that there was no need to worry but it did little to calm your nerves. Finally Jake takes his turn on the stage, flashing his trademark grin and playing it up for the crowd. He caught your eye and gave you a wink, and as much as you wanted to return it you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. What if someone else won him? What if she won him? I mean yeah it’s just a line dancing date for charity but still. This woman is a nightmare in heels and you’d rather not watch him suffer through an evening with her.

“I’ll start the bidding at 100 dollars!” Mrs. Simpson calls out over the microphone, and a chorus of bids ring out through the ballroom. A bidding war breaks out between Mrs. Rogers and an ancient looking woman seated in the front, bringing the price to nearly 10,000 dollars. Jake looks off kilter as he watches his stalker fight over the bid prices, and you realize that none of you have the cash to help keep him from getting away unscathed. “Oh god, he’s really gonna have to deal with her isn’t he?” You groan, Phoenix rubbing your arm absentmindedly as the price skyrockets to 30,000. It appears though that Mrs. Rogers has finally met her match, at 35,000 she gives up and relinquishes her place to the little old lady. Finally you can breathe a sigh of relief; cheers ring out among your table as the older woman stands up and takes a bow, digging in her purse for her black card. When her name is announced you can’t help but laugh; it turns out she’s Icceman’s beloved mother in law, she loves charity work and has a ridiculous amount of money and nowhere to spend it. She pinches Jake’s cheek as he makes his way over to her, with a robust laugh she shoos him off to the table your squad resides, and he is back to grinning like he won the lottery himself.

“What did she say to you? Ice’s mom?” You say later in the evening, Mrs. Rogers' husband apparently got a very interesting text from her someone about her whereabouts and left shortly after the auction ended with her tail between her legs. “She said I have a damn good squad looking out for me, but it’s more about what Mav said that I want to talk about. How about we take a walk, sugar?” He downs the rest of his whiskey and takes your hand in his, leading you out to the lobby where it’s quieter.

Before you can say a thing he’s got you all wrapped up in his strong arms, leaning in with a gleam in his eye as he kisses you by the obscenely large Christmas tree. You melt into it, the noise of the party drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, your head going a little fuzzy as he deepens it to the point of indecency. When he finally pulls away you chase his lips and he chuckles, stroking your jaw and soaking up the moment. “Mav told me you saved me from an evening of hell with my stalker, that true pretty girl?” You’ve been caught and you know it. “I just didn’t think it was right; you deserve better than that. A-and if I’m being honest, I didn’t want anyone else to have your time…especially not her.” You frown in frustration and he can’t help but find that little crease between your eyebrows so damn endearing.

“What did you want to tell me earlier? I can take a guess and hope like hell I’m right but I need to hear you say it.” He looks at you with so much love, it’s overwhelming and heats you all the way to your toes.

“I want us. I know we’ve been keeping things casual, but I fell in love with you Jake, and I want more with you. If that’s what you want too.” You’ve got his heart in your hand and you don’t even know it, he leans in to kiss you again as he whispers against your lips. “All I want for Christmas is you darlin’, couldn’t ask for a better gift. I’m yours, loving you is the easiest thing I can do and I’ll do it forever if you let me.” It was the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received.

Tagging- @bellaireland1981 @roosterforme @attapullman @honeytwrites @heavenssins @djs8891 @kmc1989 @mynameismckenziemae @kissmecaitie @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @pinguhub @lenafromthenordiccoven @shanimallina87 @trickphotography2 @teacupsandtopgun

[soleilapproves]

Imagine Nanami survives Shibuya and ends up with severe scars on half his body so he decides to become a recluse writer. Enter his editor, aka reader who he never meets face to face until one day your boss tells you to go collect Nanami’s personally annotated copies of his books for a charity auction (he’s a highly accomplished writer and is a candidate for an international award!!). Except he basically lives in the mountains and no one has seen him make ANY public appearances.

You were told that his books would be in the foyer so you could just collect them and leave asap without making any contact with him. But alas, nature works in the reader’s favor and there’s a severe weather warning for a whole week so the reader can’t go back to the city safely.

That’s when they see Nanami for the first time in person and he makes them stay with him for their safety. After a week, reader and Nanami become super amicable and reader visits him every weekend.

Nanami is falling in love but his scars make him very insecure. Reader tells him that they will be their friend no matter what and soon Nanami comes clean about curses and all that stuff. Reader believes him cause his burn scars are bizarre (only half the body being hurt).

After the book gets published, reader stops being Nanami’s editor and they have dates in Nanami’s home in the mountains every weekend. Reader slowly encourages him to go outside and see the outside world. Of course, he will never reveal what he looks like because he prefers being a mysterious author for his readers. Use your imagination from here. Adios.

masterlist

[adrienneleclerc]

That’s That Me Espresso

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles and Y/N have been dating for a few weeks, they met after the Suzuka Grand Prix. Even though their relationship has been short lived, there’s something about her that has Charles down bad. They are living proof of how the boyfriend should always like the girlfriend more.

Warning: Grammatical and spelling errors

A/N: For those who voted for idea 2, about Charles being auctioned off for charity? Yeah, I'm not vibing with that idea anymore. But i am working on the fanfic where Charles thinks Y/N likes Lando.

Charles was never one to chase girls. Sure, in every relationship he was in, he was the best boyfriend he could be, he would be so devoted to them. But in his current relationship, he has never felt this way before. He was away for the Imola Grand prix and he couldn't sleep so he decided to call Y/N. After a few rings, she answered.

"Bueno?" Y/N asked sleepily.

"Hello, mon ange, did I wake you?" Charles asked.

"Sort of, is something wrong, Charlie?" Y/N asked.

"Oh nothing, I'm just having trouble sleeping without you here, you know?" Charles said.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to this Grand Prix, cariño, i just have a lot of in-person meetings. Plus, you've been to countless races before, you would think you'd be used to sleeping alone." Y/N said.

"Yes, but that was before i met you. Now when i'm in bed alone, it feels like I'm missing something.” Charles confessed.

“You’re so sweet. But seriously, muñeco, you have media day in the morning, and I can’t have you be sleepy during the interviews, Fred would kill you.” Y/N said.

“No he wouldn’t, I’m il predestinato, the prince of Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Muñeco.” Y/N warned.

“Alright Mon ange, I’ll go to sleep, but please FaceTime me before you go to work.” Charles said.

“Of course, Charlie. Te quiero mucho, Goodnight.” Y/N said.

“Yo también te quiero, Goodnight.” Charles tried his best to say in Spanish and he hung up.

The next morning, Y/N woke up, showered, did her after shower routine, got dressed and she was about to make breakfast when Charles decided to FaceTime her. She answered.

“Muñeco, how are you? Did you get some sleep?” Y/N asked.

“I did actually, it took a while though.” Charles said.

“Well when you’re back in Monaco, I’ll be sleeping by your side.” Y/N said, she set her phone against something in the kitchen so she can make pancakes.

“Sounds perfect, I’ll be counting down the days.” Charles said.

“You think you’ll make podium?” Y/N asked.

“I’ll dedicate my podium to you, Mon ange.” Charles said. They kept talking while Y/N made her breakfast, Charles also took his phone with him to eat when his room service came so they had breakfast together,

“Charlie, baby, i need to go to work, okay, I’ll talk to you soon, te quiero.” Y/N said.

“Yo más.” Charles replied and hung up the call. There was a knock on his hotel room door and he opened it to see Carlos. “Good morning, Carlos.”

“Morning. Were you talking with Y/N?” Carlos asked

“Yes i was.” Charles replied smiling.

“Ay, I should have known, she has you completely smitten.” Carlos says.

“I know, mate, there’s just something about her.” Charles said, sighing like a person in love.

“You are whipped, it’s entertaining to see you like that. We need to head to paddock now for the interviews.” Carlos said before him and Charles left the hotel room.

Meanwhile, Y/N was finishing up her third meeting of the day when she got w FaceTime call from Y/N so she excused herself.

“Charlie querido, what is it? I’m technically still in a meeting.” Y/N said.

“Sorry Mon ange, I just wanted to see how you are, I am on break right now and then I have more interviews before the race,” Charles said.

“I’m fine, just a little tired, I call you later tonight okay? Then you can tell me all about your day. Te quiero.” Y/N said, blowing him a kiss.

“Yo más” Charles said, doing the same thing before hanging up. Y/N was about to enter the conference room again but she was stopped by her assistant.

“You got that man wrapped around your finger.” Monica commented,

“Well i wouldn’t necessarily say that I have him wrapped around my finger. Pero es si, lo tengo mal (But Yeah, i got him down bad).” Y/N said.

“How? Like what’s your secret?” Monica asked.

“There’s no secret, it’s just that me espresso.” Y/N said.

“Ha ha, no go, you have a meeting to run.” Monica said. Y/N entered the conference room to continue the meeting.

Her workday was done and she got a text from Charles and it was a link to one of his interviews. She clicked on it and she was watching it but there was a question that Charles answered that surprised her.

“Charles Leclerc, what is your favorite saying?” The interviewer asked.

“I Don’t know if it’s a popular saying or an actual saying in general, but my girlfriend says ‘that’s that me espresso’. When she was younger, her mom would say she was like a shot so espresso because of how hyper and energetic she was as a child, basically bouncing off the walls. So now when I ask her a question about anything she does, she’ll say that’s that me espresso or it’s just that me espresso, meaning that’s just how she is. How do I get crying babies to stop? That’s that me espresso, I have no idea but I guess I just have a calming presence.” Charles said laughing. Y/N stopped the video and FaceTimed Charles,

“Hey Muñeco.” Y/N said.

“Hello, ma Belle, did you see that interview?” Charles asked.

“I did, you used my phrase.” Y/N said.

“Of course I did, it’s my favorite saying in the world, it perfectly describes you. You are a shot of espresso, a moment with you has me smiling for hours, I can’t get enough of you.” Charles said,

“Eres tan cursi (you are so cheesy) but i love that about you.” Y/N said.

They continued talking until it was time for bed.

Race Weekend was done and Y/N can continue working from her home office, she didn’t didn’t have any meetings to attend to in person, she was free. She was finishing up some files when the doorbell rang. Y/N got up and answered the door and she saw a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers (mine are peonies because of Blair Waldorf).

“Whats this?” Y/N asked and the bouquet of flowers were lowered to reveal a smiling Charles Leclerc. “Muñeco!”

“Mon ange!” Charles exclaimed, they entered her apartment and they hugged as soon as charles put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, he spun her around and out her back on the ground to leave her kisses all over her face. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow, did you come here straight from the airport?” Y/N asked, taking in Charles’s hoodie and baggy jeans,

“Yes I did. I stopped by the florist first, obviously.” Charles said, gesturing to the bouquet,

“They’re beautiful.” Y/N said. “What brings you here?”

“Because I wanted to tell you up something important. I know we haven’t been dating for a long time but I have never felt this strongly about someone, I love you, te amo, estoy enamorado de ti (i am in love with you).” Charles said. Y/N starts tearing up,

“Ay muñeco, yo también te amo.” Y/N said, hugging him. “Je suis amoureux de toi.” Now it was Charles’s turn to tear up, she just told him she was in love with him too. They kissed.

“I fall in love with you more and more each day, I can’t get enough of you, how do you do that?” Charles asked, brushing Y/N’s hair back. Y/N just shrugged.

“That’s that me espresso.” Y/N said and both of them laughed, Charles pulled Y/N onto the couch and started talking about where to go out today,

The End

I had no idea where I was going with this short imagine but I hope y’all like it!

[semisgroupie]

I’VE BEEN A GOOD GIRL, SANTA

roronoa zoro x fem. reader

wc: 3.6k

warnings: college au!, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, standing sex (zoro is super strong), alcohol consumption, manhandling, biting, size difference (slightly), wingman vivi in effect, edging, denied orgasms, clit kisser zoro

synopsis: it’s a christmas fund raiser and you desperately need to get laid, so it’s a win-win situation

a/n: happy holidays everyone!!!

You sigh and look at Vivi as she drags you to the entrance of the biggest fraternity at Grand Line University, Alpha Di Alpha. “Do we really have to go to this?” You groan loudly and Vivi stops in her tracks then faces you.

“Yes, you have been cooped up for the past three weeks because of finals and you need to get out. And you need to get laid, I’m tired of almost tripping over your vibrator when I go into your room to grab something.” Your eyes widen at her words and you lift a hand to lightly hit her arm, making her laugh. “I always keep things out of the way! And besides the point, I don’t need to get laid. I’m doing just fine by myself.” Now it’s Vivi’s turn to sigh and she lifts her hands to place them on your shoulders, “you’re gonna get laid. When was the last time you had a good orgasm from something that wasn’t rechargeable?”

You consider her words for a moment then look at her before mumbling, “it was last winter with that French guy after our sorority’s charity event.” She nods and pulls you close, wrapping her arms around you as she continues walking to the entrance of the fraternity. “Exactly! A whole year, that’s sad and as your best friend I can’t have you suffer anymore. And maybe the next guy you hook up with could cook up an amazing breakfast like that French guy did. I still have wet dreams about that waffle stuffed with nutella and strawberries.” You roll your eyes and nod. “But this event is a little demeaning, don’t you think? We’re gawking at these guys and bidding on them like they’re merchandise.” She raises an eyebrow and looks at you, “I think of this as payback for all women. Now we get to treat guys the same way they treat us. Plus you don’t have to bid on anyone but if you do, you do get a date and you can get laid. And you won’t be spending any of your own money, you get to use my dad’s money and it’s for a great cause. It’s a win-win-win-win situation!”

You open your mouth to reply but the loud Christmas music blasting from the fraternity house drowns you out as you both walk inside. Two guys in Santa suits hand you both auction bid cards and Vivi lets you go for a moment to grab some drinks then comes back to hand you one. She smiles and leans in close, “loosen up! This is supposed to be fun!” You reluctantly take the drink from her and bring the red solo cup to your lips to take a sip before she grabs your hand again. “It’s starting soon and we should grab good seats!”

You glance around, looking at some of your fellow sorority sisters and faces of people you’ve probably had a class or two with but you can’t really put a name to the face. You sit with Vivi in the middle of the second row, you have a perfect view of the stage set up and you look around as the lights start dimming and the music volume lowers. You set your bid card on your lap and rest back against your chair, nursing your drink because you’re sure that if you get up, your seat will be taken when you get back.

The velvet curtain opens and you see a familiar face, Usopp. He’s been in a few of your classes and you’ve hung out with him a couple of times. He’s dressed in a Santa costume and he clutches the microphone in one hand as he walks to the front of the stage. “Hello everyone! Thank you for joining us tonight for the wonderful, Alpha Di Alpha charity event! All of the proceeds and donations tonight will be sent directly to the local pediatric hospital to help fund whatever needs help! So thank you in advance and who’s ready to bid on some of my frat brothers!” Cheers and screams erupt from the crowd and Vivi has to nudge you to participate along, which you barely do — you just clap your hand against your thigh and fake a smile.

“Our first bachelor of the night is one of my closest friends, a man of many words, but most importantly, a lover of meat. Luffy!” The velvet curtains open again and you see Luffy walk out, almost tripping over his feet as he does so. Once he reaches the front of the stage the bidding starts, you see multiple cards fly up and you take another sip of your drink. You just want to go back home and bury yourself in your bed but for Vivi’s sake, you’ll stay.

You watch multiple guys walk the stage and you’re almost tempted to bid on one, Ace. You’ve known him since freshman year and he’s definitely gotten a lot more muscular. His Santa suit is open to reveal his toned, freckled chest and your eyes drift down to his neatly trimmed happy trail as he lowers his Santa pants slightly, earning himself more bids. But for some unknown reason you don’t grab your bid card, you just watch the chaos ensue. But he ends up raising close to $1200 just by himself.

“Now, my last sexy Santa is a man of few words, he trains all day, he likes bottles of booze and if he could spend the rest of his life sleeping, he would! If you’re the highest bidder you’ll be able to find the answer to one of the most important questions; does his carpet match the drapes? Let me hear it for Zoro!” The name is familiar but your eyes widen when the velvet curtains open again and you see the green-haired man walk out. You’ve seen him plenty of times in the campus gym, he always maxes out the machines and you have to get his help to unload the heavy weights he packed on. All he’s wearing is red velvet Santa pants and black suspenders that stretch along his toned chest. Your eyes trace over the scars on his body before you look at his face. You lick your dry lips and your hand instinctively reaches for the bid card.

“Since I’ve saved the best for last, let’s start with a good bid. Who’s got $250?” Your hand shoots up and Vivi looks over at you with a wide smile on her face. “Okay, 300?” Another hand shoots up and the price just keeps going up. You never spoke about a limit with Vivi but her father is a politician with more money than he could handle so you basically had free range. “Okay, okay, this might be the most offered tonight. Who’s got $2500?” Your hand shoots up again and you glance over at the person you’ve been bidding against all night, “do I hear $2550?” Usopp looks around as no other hand goes up, “going once…twice…alright! Congratulations to the lucky lady! And thank you for being our highest bidder, your money is going to a great cause. That is all for tonight, thank you and stay behind for the party! Alpha Di Alpha will never disappoint and will always throw a kickass party!” The music starts up again and Vivi wraps her arms around you.

“You did it! And Zoro is hot! He looks like he could flip you all over the place and just manhandle you.” She giggles and heat spreads across your cheeks as you think about it. He handles 100 lb weight plates like nothing so you could just imagine how he’d be with you. “I’m gonna grab another drink, I’ll be back.” She loosens her arms around you and you walk over to the bar to mix something up. You glance down at the concoction and take a big swig from your cup, groaning as it burns your throat.

“Easy there, I’m a huge drinker but I wouldn’t mix half of the shit you just mixed together.” A gravelly voice comes from behind you and you turn to see Zoro. Your eyes widen as you look at him and you swallow thickly. He raises an eyebrow and chuckles as he moves past you to make himself a drink. “Dump that garbage out, if you want something strong then I can mix it for you.” He grabs a second cup and starts making a drink for you and himself. You stand there, dumbfounded and watch as his muscles flex and tense with each subtle movement. “Are you just gonna gawk at me or will you finally say something, Miss Moneybags?” The nickname takes you out of your trance and heat rises to your cheeks as you meet his eyes, “Miss Moneybags?”

He laughs and finishes up the drinks, handing you a cup, “yeah, I don’t really know your name and you just dropped two grand for a date with me. Not many college students have that kind of money.” You nod and take a sip of the drink he made, which is more tolerable than what you threw together earlier, “my friend’s dad is a politician so it’s technically his money that she’s letting me use and my name is Y/N.” He nods and takes a sip of his drink, “so, what made you bid on me? I’m sure it’s not my muscles that captivated you..” For extra emphasis he flexes his pectorals and chuckles.

“Well, I don’t really know why. I’ve seen you at the gym plenty of times and something just made me raise the card. Plus I really hate losing so I wasn’t going to get outbidded by anyone.” You bring the cup to your lips again and glance over as Vivi makes her way over to you. You watch her with wide eyes as she tips her head to Zoro and mouths: ‘he looks like his dick is huge, good luck!’ Zoro turns to see where your gaze is focused on and raises an eyebrow just as Vivi is about to make another comment about him and Vivi grabs a beer bottle then nods at the both of you before leaving. He turns back to you and looks at you, “your friend?”

You nod and smile at him, “yeah, she brought me here,” you look at his chest before meeting his eyes, “she thinks that being here and bidding on someone is a way for me to end my year long dry streak.” His eyes widen and a smirk grows on his face, “fuck, a whole year? No wonder why you eye me the way you do here and at the campus gym. You’re practically a nun.” He laughs and you down the rest of your drink before tossing the cup in the garbage so you can walk away and save yourself from anymore embarrassment. Just as you take your first step, his hand reaches out to grip your wrist. “Hey, I’m sorry, that was a bad joke. How about we just forget about this conversation and dance? Then we’ll see what goes on from there.” He strokes the skin of your wrist with his thumb and you think for a moment before nodding, “yeah, let’s dance.”

The music pounds in your ears as you sway your hips to the music, Zoro stands close to you but doesn’t press himself against you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. As more sensual music plays and as the alcohol you drank earlier settles more into your system, you feel a bit more confident. You glance back at him and throw him a flirty smile, “come on, I want to feel you against me.” He bites his lip and reaches out to grip your hips and pulls you back against him, leaning down to whisper, “keep swaying those hips against me and you’ll really feel me against you soon.” You whimper as he squeezes your hips tighter and you press your ass against his crotch as you move to the beat of the music. As the next song comes on, you can feel him harden against your ass. The velvet of his pants does nothing to hide how big and thick he is.

He leans down again and nips at your earlobe, “feel how hard you made me? Think you can take it after a year of not getting fucked?” You nod and bite your lip as you move a hand back to stroke him over his pants, he groans in your ear and you turn around to properly face him so you can give him your answer, “why don’t we go somewhere private and find out?” He groans and grips your hand that is stroking his bulge and leads you up the stairs, he drags you along and halfway up the stairs he stops and lifts you up. He throws you over his shoulder and lifts a hand to smack your ass as he goes up the rest of the stairs. “You walk too damn slow.” He mumbles as he walks down one of the hallways and walks into this room, shutting the door behind him and locking it for extra measure. He sets you down on the ground then pins you to his door as he leans in to kiss you. His lips move against yours hungrily and his hands move along your body roughly.

He groans against your lips as his hands grope your breasts through your top, his thumbs flicking along your nipples through the material. You whimper against his lips and you move the suspenders down his shoulders before dragging your nails lightly along his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingers. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours as he hooks his fingers along the neckline of your top. “I hope this isn’t your favorite.” He mumbles before you hear the loud sound of fabric ripping. He pulls the now-scraps of your top off your shoulders and lets it hit the ground before he pulls the cups of your bra down to expose your chest to him. He gropes your right breast with one hand while his mouth explores your left. He’s rough with his movements but it makes you wetter by the second. His fingers tweak at your nipple while he bites your other one then drags his tongue along it to soothe the dull ache.

You writhe against the door and he moves his hand down to your skirt, roughly tugging at it as he pulls it down your legs. Once you’re left in nothing but your panties, he presses his lips against yours then pulls back slightly as his hands move to the backs of your thighs, “jump.” You wrap your arms around his neck then jump as he commands, he presses you against the door firmly as he ruts his hard on against the growing damp spot on your panties. He moves one hand from you to pull his cock out then pulls your panties to the side. He bites his lip as he drags the leaking tip of his cock through your folds to collect your juices then pushes into you. Your back arches off the door as he grips your ass tightly, sinking you down to take more of his cock. The stretch sends a delicious burn through your body and it leaves you craving more.

He soon bottoms out, his cock throbbing inside of you while you clench around him. He leans in and licks up the column of your throat before groaning against your skin, “fuck, tell me I can move. I can’t take this much longer.” He drags his teeth along the sensitive skin before lightly biting down, “please Zoro, fuck me.” He uses his grip on your ass to lift you up slightly as he starts moving his hips, he starts off slow before picking up the pace. Your nails dig into his tanned shoulders as his cock hits your sweet spot with perfect precision. His mouth goes back to your neck, licking and biting the skin as he continues to pound into you. All the sensations are working together to bring you closer to the edge, it’s almost embarrassing how fast the coil in your belly tightens.

“Z-Zoro, you’re gonna make me cum. Fuck.”

Just as the words leave your lips, he stops thrusting into you and lifts you higher to pull out. “What the fuck?! Why would you stop?” Your eyes widen as you look at him and your pussy clenches around nothing as a smirk graces his lips. “Where’s the fun if you cum so quickly? We’ve got the whole night ahead of us and we should use the time efficiently.” He moves you from the door and carries you to his bed, he lays you down then spreads your legs as he lays down between them. He uses one hand to keep your panties to the side and he leans in to lightly blow on your sensitive cunt. You whimper and buck your hips as your clit twitches. “Zoro…cmon.” You whine as he continues to blow on your cunt and he chuckles as he keeps his focus on your drooling cunt.

“Oh, I’m just so mean aren’t I? Just teasing you when you need me so badly.” He coos as he talks to your pussy and his tone makes you clench around nothing. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the ache go away. I promise.” He coos again before he leans in to press a kiss to your clit, he lifts his eyes to look at you as he sticks his tongue out and licks from your entrance to your clit. “So fucking sweet.” He groans before he dives in, his tongue dipping into your pussy to get more of your juices before he wraps his lips around your clit. He sucks harshly, making your back arch off the bed then he moves his other hand to push two fingers inside of you. He curls his fingers inside to massage your g-spot as he sucks on your clit harder, making your thighs shake before you try to close them around his head. With the hand he’s using to hold your panties to the side, he lets go for a moment to pinch your thigh, using the gesture as a warning to keep your legs spread.

He switches his tongue and fingers, pressing his thumb to your clit as he dips his tongue in and out of your hole. “Ah fuck Zoro, that feels so good.” You moan and he lifts his head from your pussy, “I know.” With that he goes back to your pussy, dipping his tongue in and out faster as he rubs your clit faster. Your moans get louder and you writhe more, the coil from earlier tightening again. But just before you can tip over the edge, he pulls away. You ball your fists and whine again, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I’m getting really tired of this, Zoro.” You mumble as he kisses up your body and then presses his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I’m just making this experience memorable for you, dear. It’s been a year since you last fucked someone so you shouldn’t complain so much.” He pulls off his pants completely then grips your legs, pulling you closer to him. He spits on his hand and smears it along his cock before he lines it up with your entrance, “you’ll cum this time, I promise. Then when we go on our proper date, I’ll make you cum so much you’ll forget your name.”

Before you can open your mouth to respond, he pushes himself into you, throwing his head back as you clench around him tightly. “Fuck, you feel even better after being edged,” he bites his bottom lip as he grips your hips tightly, lifting them slightly as he starts thrusting. He watches how your tits bounce with each snap of his hips and his heavy balls hit the curve of your ass at a rhythmic pace. A neatly trimmed patch of green hair brushes against your clit and you lift one of your hands to grip his wrist, digging your nails as he thrusts faster. With your hips raised like this, the tip of his cock nudges against your cervix making you moan louder.

“Zoro, ah fuck don’t stop.” He watches as your face contorts in pleasure, your pussy grips him tighter each time he reels his hips back. His fingers dig into your hips harder, bound to leave imprints once he’s done. He leans in and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, licking and biting the sensitive bud as he ruts into you like an animal. He pulls off with a wet pop and moves one of his hands to rub your engorged clit, groaning as you clench around him even tighter.

“Let go for me, I know you’re right there, just let go.” He growls out and the coil in the pit of your stomach finally snaps. You cry out his name as you cum, your eyes rolling back as he continues to thrust into you. “Cum inside, please Zoro.” You moan out and it doesn’t take long for him to follow through with your command. Thick ropes of his cum fill you and he pants as he grinds against you. He slowly pulls out of you and watches how some of his cum leaks out of you, he groans at the sight and his cock twitches but he decides that you’ve had enough and lays down beside you.

“You’re staying the night, maybe we could sneak a round two in the morning. I have to make up for all the orgasms you could’ve had during your year long dry spell and I won’t go through edging you again. Even though you look fucking adorable when you get denied an orgasm.” He chuckles as he pulls you close and presses his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “Get some rest, you’ll need it.”

taglist: @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network

[moonchild9350]

Auction

pairing: non-idol Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: Smut-18+MDNI

word count: 1.1k

warnings: nipple play, clit play, p in v penetration, creampie (don't)

notes: just a quickie, no pun intended lol plus it's hyunjin ♡ (lightly edited)

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Hyunjin paces the floor, his fingers toying with the cuff links on his shirt. He’s never felt this nervous in his life.

He is waiting for you, the woman he won a date with not even an hour earlier. Hyunjin had to attend yet another charity event, a room full of stuck up people, who pretend to care about the cause of the night. Imagine his surprise when he won the bid for the prettiest girl of the night.

You beamed at him, your smile lighting up the whole room as everyone clapped. He remembers meeting you backstage to plan the details of your date. Hyunjin was shocked however, when you suggested he meet you upstairs, giving you a room number and key.

So here he was.

Hyunjin jumped as he heard a click and whir, the door opening and closing with a slam. You sauntered in the room, dumping your bag on the table, a smile on your face.

He held his breath as you walked over to him, stopping right in front of his face.

“Hi handsome,” you purred, as you dragged your finger down his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

You were ecstatic with the result of the auction, happy you were the prize for such a handsome man. Yeah, you could have wined and dined him, but you were more curious as to what was beneath that suit.

You could tell he was nervous, eyeing the little drops of perspiration that stuck to his face. You wrapped your arms around his neck before leaning in, pressing your lips to his.

Hyunjin gasped as your lips met his, freezing for a moment before matching your pace. You grinned against his lips before deepening the kiss, your tongue swirling around his. Hyunjin groaned against you, tightening his hold against your waist.

You chuckled against his lips, pushing him back until his legs hit the bed, Hyunjin toppling over the comforter with a huff. You reached for the straps of your dress, your eyes meeting Hyunjin’s as the fabric fell to the floor.

Hyunjin gulped, his cock twitching in his pants as he eyed your sweet body. He watched as you played with your nipples, twisting and pinching the buds, listening as you let out soft sighs.

“Strip,” you said, watching as Hyunjin began to unbutton his shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons.

You chuckled at his desperation and decided to help him. You brought your hands to his belt, undoing the buckle, before unzipping his pants. You shoved them down his thighs, Hyunjin lifting his hips up to help you along.

You pulled his pants off completely and tossed them to the side quickly right as Hyunjin grunted, finally ridding himself of his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. You eyed his bulge, nice and big within his boxers, licking your lips in anticipation of feeling him inside you.

“Lay down for me?” Hyunjin asked, as he sat up, eyeing you hopefully.

“Of course darling,” you cooed before lying down on the bed on your back.

Hyunjin spread your legs, his eyes glued to your sopping cunt, your arousal leaking out of your hole. He quickly discarded his boxers, his hard and leaking cock springing from its confines. You smiled as you eyed his member, long with a mushroom tip that you know will fill you up perfectly.

You spread your legs wider as Hyunjin slotted himself between them, tapping his cock on your folds a few times, a wet sound reverberating throughout the room with each tap.

Hyunjin grunted in his haste to feel you, dragging his cock through your folds, nudging his tip at your hole. He looked up at you as if asking for permission, in which you nodded yes.

You both let out loud moans as Hyunjin pushed his cock within you, your walls stretching around his girth to accommodate him. He didn’t give you time to adjust, but instead began to piston his hips against yours hard and fast.

He felt heavenly within your walls, his cock hitting deep with each thrust. You held your legs back as far as you could so you could watch where you two met, your little hole sucking him in.

Hyunjin’s thrusts sped up, his moans increasing as he was lost within your warm cunt. He wasn’t going to last long, the need to cum imminent as you continued to clench around him.

He hurriedly brought his finger to your clit, rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves, watching as your arousal leaked onto his cock, coating it white.

Hyunjin’s fingers brought you closer to your high, causing you to whimper, little pleas falling from your lips.

“Don’t stop…ah! Please don’t stop!”

You threw your head back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Hyunjin sped up, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. Your breathing was shaky as you felt the coil within you build, causing you to grip your thighs harder, your nails digging into your skin.

“Are you going to cum?” Hyunjin cooed, his thumb slipping and sliding on your wet nub.

“Yeah?” He teased as your cunt squelched with each thrust, almost as if it were answering him.

He chuckled as you were speechless, watching as you let go, your orgasm hitting you hard. You clenched around his length, holding him within you. He didn’t stop his thrusts, however, as he doubled his efforts to continue to fuck you through your high and bring him close to his.

Your arousal was dripping out of your cunt, coating his cock, as you saw stars, your belly contracting with each wave of your orgasm. Hyunjin continued to fuck you through your high, his hips snapping into yours until he stilled, emptying his load of warm cum within you with a groan.

“Shit, y/n,” Hyunjin moaned as he snapped his hips against yours a few more times, making sure you took every drop of his cum, before withdrawing his cock, his eyes glued to your pussy, watching as both of your arousal seeped out of your hole and down your ass.

You let go of your legs, the muscles protesting as you relaxed on the bed, watching as Hyunjin brought a towel from the bathroom and gently wiped you clean. You smiled as he cleaned you up, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m glad you bet on me baby,” you chuckled, watching as your boyfriend came to rest next to you.

“Of course, I couldn’t let some rando have you!” Hyunjin replied, pulling you close.

You smiled at his response before closing your eyes, snuggling closer to him. You definitely deemed tonight to be a successful one, and Hyunjin would have to agree as well.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

[hiraethwrote]

A TICKET IN YOUR NAME

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : the charity auction you're in charge of is closing in, and there's still a ticket reserved in his name. your executives are on your neck about wanting a clear answer if the pro player will be able to attend - with no regards for the fact that you broke up three months ago cw : pro player!kageyama, break up, post-timeskip, reader wears a dress, angst, bittersweet, heavy yearning, regret, slight profanity, lowkey self indulgent lol, no use of y/n word count : 5.8k

“Kageyama? Hey, it’s me.”

A ray of cold ran down his spine as your all too familiar voice rang in his ear, tearing painfully at his heart from the first syllable. God, how he had missed those melodic vibrations he now only heard in his dreams.

When the unknown number popped up on his phone screen, his first instinct was to let it go straight to voicemail. But for whatever reason, the voice in the back of his mind told him he should pick it up — he definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with the unforgettable tone of your voice, causing his heart to bang against its cage.

And you had called him Kageyama, instantly pulling out the amateur stitching he had applied to the tears in his heart.

It made him feel a little sick, his last name sounding foreign on your tongue. You never did that, because he hadn’t allowed it. When it came to you, he wanted to be close, intimate, especially since distance came so naturally to all of his relationships. And one thing that separated you from the rest, you called him Tobio.

Or you used to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything-“

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, you’re good.”

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase-“ the sentence came to an abrupt halt when he swore he heard you take a sharp breath, as if you had to contain deep emotions that threatened to overtake your sense of calm. “Management keep bugging me about your ticket for the charity auction.”

“Right,” he said it so quietly he wasn’t entirely sure the microphone picked it up.

“I don’t even know if you’re in town then,” lie — a complete and utter fabrication to try and convince him, but also yourself, that you weren’t still hung up on the past — like you didn’t have his schedule for the next seven months logged into your phone, knowing very well he was in fact still available that evening. “But the ticket is still reserved in your name, and I promised my executives I would provide them with a clear answer if you were attending or not.” Again you cut yourself off, a shaky breath traveling the line, something he had learned long ago was a clear indicator that you were fighting back tears. “Told them I’d have an answer by the end of the week.”

Of course he hadn’t forgotten about the auction — you had stressed about it for months even before you broke up, being in charge of putting the whole event together. The red circle in his calendar marking the date kept coming closer and closer, and he had wondered if you would reach out to ask about it — now he had his answer.

“I’m in town,” he muttered simply, closing his eyes as he just waited for your voice to return.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into attending or anything. If it’ll make you uncomfortable, I’m sure I’ll figure something out-“

“It won’t make me uncomfortable.” He was a little surprised by how soft his voice came out, but it was true — he would never be uncomfortable around you. “Next Saturday, right?”

“You remembered?”

“Got it circled.”

“Figured.” Silence swallowed the conversation, and it felt so unnatural. It was only with you he was able to engage in a conversation that flowed like a peaceful stream. He had been deprived of that privilege for so long, and his strangling feelings were slowly piling up inside him, weighing heavy on his heart.

He could picture you so clearly, down to the smallest detail. Right now you were probably sat behind your desk in your office, resting your forehead in the palm of your hand. And if he was still able to interpret your behaviour correctly, simply based on your tone, he suspected there were salty pools welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

At this hour, you were probably left alone in the company building, everyone else having gone home already. And he pictured you were longing to go home too, so you could change out of the boring corporate attire he knew you hated with a fiery passion. The second you were to set foot inside your apartment, you would walk straight for your closet to put on your favourite slacks — maybe, if you hadn’t thrown them out already, you would wear his old hoodie as well. “They feel like home,” you always used to say before melting into the piece of clothing that was too big for you.

It was most likely a naive fantasy, but Tobio liked to toy with the image nonetheless.

You stole his attention from his spiralling when you sighed, shifting the entire tension of the conversation into something more serious, deprived from emotion. “Black tie event. Prepare for press, the company won’t be shy about any notable names. Pro player Kageyama Tobio is one of those names. Just let me know where you’re staying, and we’ll send a car to take you to the location.”

The business voice had taken the phone call hostage, barely recognising the voice on the other end of the line. The only time you used it for not work related occasions was when you were mad at him...

“Great, thank you.”

A beat of silence. “Again, sorry to bother you. I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine. You couldn’t… bother me.”

It felt awkward now. The ice was broken, the no-contact had failed, and now neither of you wanted to let go despite not being able to find any words to feed the conversation.

For a split second Tobio was overcome with courage, having to clear his throat before he opened his mouth, “hey, how are you-“

“I’ll see you next Saturday.” His attempt was shut down instantly, rushing to hang up after blurting out your goodbyes.

Your phone hit the desk with an obnoxious rattle before your hands came flying to cover your face, aggressive sobs tumbling past your lips.

Even though you missed him, his voice, the comfort he provided, you just did not have the strength it required to indulge in casual conversation with him. It hurt too much.

Time heals all wounds — what a load of bullshit, because here you sat, three months after the most earth shattering heartbreak you had ever experienced and it still served as an aching gash in your life.

Since that horrid night, you had delved head first into work to distract yourself as best as you could. It had been a privilege to be able to fill your time so you could ignore dealing with the issue at hand — a privilege you had taken for granted as your sobs filled the vacant space of your lonely office.

In less than two weeks, you would be forced to look him in the eyes again. You had to paint your face with a smile, smother your sorrows for the sake of the company as he was expected to stay at your side for the evening.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to pull this one ashore after all.

As promised, a fancy black car had pulled up exactly at the time you had texted him.

The entire car ride was spent in a one sided conversation, where the driver tried to initiate polite small talk only to be met with quiet sounds that barely confirmed Tobio was even listening.

He was too busy trying to plant his feet back on the ground, nerves traveling his body from head to toe. Every ten seconds he tilted his head to check his phone just in case you had sent him any further information about tonight that he needed to be aware of. He was left disappointed every time when there never appeared a notification with your name attached.

Sooner rather than later, flashing lights surrounded the car and he knew they had reached the destination.

This was a part of the job he had never gotten used to, and some part of him would probably always struggle with the attention that came with his career path.

Reluctantly stepping out of the car, he braced himself for the overwhelming noice of the press shouting to grab is attention.

It was only so much his PR training sufficed. He would wave awkwardly, try to smile and present himself as nicely as possible so his managers wouldn’t be on his neck about the bad impression he’d given off — but no amount of training was able to calm his nerves.

Only you did that.

Whenever he had to make public appearances, you were the one to help his feet back on the ground and remind him it wasn’t scary. You would lace your fingers with his, gently press your body against his side with such grace. And you would look at him, your eyes whispering quiet affirmations; you’re doing great, okay? I’m with you every step of the way.

Deprived of your safety, he was overthinking every move he did. Was it obvious how fake the small tilt of his lips were? Who was he kidding, they probably didn’t even see what was his attempt at a smile. Was the outfit okay? Had he picked out the wrong outfit, showing up underdressed to your special night? No, he had purposely chosen a safe option, one he knew you liked. Was his steps towards the entrance too slow? No wait, shit- now he was walking too fast.

He couldn’t be too sure he had been able to pull off the image his managers wanted, but he had at least gotten himself through the doors of the venue.

He had no time to react before he was approached by a neatly dressed individual with a clipboard in her hands. “Mr. Kageyama? Follow me.”

Croaking a quiet ‘okay’, Tobio didn’t know what else to do than do as she said, eventually ending up in a secluded, yet spacious hallway. There were only a few people scattered about, all seemingly rather busy.

Then his eyes landed on a familiar frame that he would recognise any time and any place, forever burned into his memory. Your bare back facing him, phone to your ear as frustration pulled your shoulders high.

Everything else seemed to disappear when he heard your voice, “no, no, it’s supposed to be four-“ you spun around, and the sentence died instantly once your eyes automatically locked with his.

He fell for the temptation, trying to be as subtle as possible as he let his eyes travel you up and down. You were breathtaking, all dolled up in a floor length, satin gown in deep maroon. There was a shy slit in your skirt, and your exposed arms were decorated with the prettiest jewlery.

But what had his breath catch in his throat was the familiar pendant resting right on the centre of your chest — the dainty necklace he recognised as his gift for you for your first anniversary.

“Mr. Kageyama, as requested,” the stranger said before hurrying away to attend other tasks.

“Just… I trust you’ll be able you fix it,” you spoke softly into the phone before hanging up, never breaking eye contact.

He swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed the moment he had seen you again, “hey.”

“Hi,” you said weakly, your nerves driving you to pull at your own fingers. The action captured his eyes which instantly had you hide your hands behind your back. You knew all too well what was running through his mind at the moment, having a nearly primal desire to interrupt it.

One could cut the tension with a knife, thick and suffocating, with so many lingering feelings resting in the prolonged eye contact.

You reached within yourself, closing your eyes for a second to force away your uneasiness. Once they opened, and met his again, all evidence of previous sentiments were gone and replaced with business. Your shoulders lowered slightly, arms moving in front of you again and your entire stance straightening with a newfound sense of confidence.

“Great! You picked a good outfit,” was the nicest compliment you were able to pay him without completely succumbing to the sadness that was walking a fine line, ready to overtake you at any second. “It’s perfect for the evening.”

He tilted his head forward bashfully to hide the small smirk of amusement that formed at his lips because he knew you were being modest in your observations. It wasn’t unintentional that he’d put on the all black, three piece suit you had helped him purchase when he was first signed.

It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but he remembered how you had gladly joined him when he was in such a desperate need for a formal wear he could pull out on special occasions. He would never forget how your lips had parted and eyes widened when he came out in that suit, unable to peer your eyes off of him. He’d watched as you had actively swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding in approval, rather enthusiastically.

“Glad to hear it,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You look great, by the way. But that’s no surprise.”

For a split second your front wavered with a weak smile. You wouldn’t allow the fragility to settle — you could not afford that tonight, of all nights.

You spun on your heel, walking down the hall in the opposite direction. Tobio didn’t hesitate to follow.

“They’re opening the doors for the other guests very soon, and in roughly twenty minutes I have to go up on stage to welcome everyone. The auction will start shortly after that.” You stopped abruptly outside a huge door, nearly causing him to crash into you. Resting your hand on the handle, he watched how it clenched around the metal. “I’ll find you after. You’re technically still my da-… my plus one.”

Without sparing him another look, you simply opened the door and entered the ballroom, leaving the word ‘date’ hang unfinished in the air.

How had the two of you gotten to this point?

His future used to be so clear — he saw his entire life headed in a direction he had never dared to dream of, based on the fear of its unlikelihood. You brought safety and comfort to his life, which had grown somewhat turbulent after garnering some fame within the world of athletes — no matter how things turned out, it would be okay, because he still had you.

But now he had to control how he didn’t let his gaze linger for too long, because it could be crossing a boundary that previously didn’t exist. He had to hold his tongue so he didn’t bombard you with all the affection he still had for you, because that wasn’t his job anymore.

Slowly but surely, the ballroom started to fill up with an assortment of characters, all ready to spend their money on the extravagant auction. Tobio found himself standing awkwardly in the same spot you left him, along the outskirts of the growing crowd, feeling beyond uncomfortable.

And though he knew he should mingle, all he was able to do was let his eyes follow you when you eventually made your way onto the stage. The music came to a slow stop, the crowd calmed down and everyone’s eyes were on you.

To everyone else, you probably seemed in control of yourself, confident even — but Tobio was still able to read you like a book, rarely having seen you as nervous as right now. Your smile was bright, but very clearly forced as your eyes roamed the audience frantically.

Suddenly you looked at him, meeting his eyes that were always so soft — a feature that somehow always caught you a little by surprise. He was often so stoic, his eyebrows always just slightly tilted in a frown. But his eyes betrayed his cold exterior, conveying a tenderness you had never really seen in anyone else.

With the familiar safety of his gaze, your breathing evened out and shoulders relaxed, which he noticed. He flashed you a small smile before giving you a reassuring nod, telling you there was nothing to be scared of — because after everything, he would still catch you if you were to fall.

Exhaling deeply, you started the welcome speech, your smile now genuine. He followed every single word that fell from your lips with immense professionalism, and every once in a while when your eyes found him in order to ground yourself, his heart would skip a beat.

“Once again, thank you all for attending and I hope you all enjoy the evening.” The crowd erupted into polite applause while you walked down from the stage gracefully.

“You did great,” Tobio breathed as you had joined him again.

“Thank god,” you sighed. “That speech has kept me awake all week.”

“No, it was good. Very professional.” You turned to look at him, a beautiful smile painting your lips as old habits steered your hand for his face.

When you realised what you were about to do, your face fell, hand freezing inches before making contact with his cheek. In all the stress of being up on that stage with everyone’s eyes glued on you, you had forgotten the nerves caused by your ex boyfriend.

It had just come so naturally to you, to caress his cheek. It was a gesture you always did whenever he would come with one of his simple compliments.

“Sorry,” you whispered, quickly retracting your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he stuttered sadly. Tobio had held his breath from the moment he’d noticed your hand raise from your side.

He had frozen still once he realised what was about to happen in hopes that if he didn’t move, you would continue in your trance and he’d eventually feel your flesh pressed against his face. He’d been deprived of the sensation for so long, and he was left disappointed when the feeling never arrived.

Was this how the evening was going to play out? Standing beside each other for hours in an awkward and unnatural silence, both too scared to do anything in fear of offending the other?

Tobio wanted to say something, but small talk had never been his strong suit — that was always your area of expertise, fill the void with chatter so no one was left feeling uncomfortable.

“You planning to bid on anything?” It was as if you had been able to read his mind, saving him from his ever spiralling mind.

“No, not really,” he said simply. “You?”

He turned to look at you, feeling a sense of relief as you let out a small snicker, observing how the auction was about to start.

“I may be in charge of this entire thing, but that doesn’t mean I have the money to get any of the things they’ve put up,” you sighed. “That trip to the Maldives looking really good right now, though.”

For a split second, Tobio heavily considered putting all his money on that trip for you. He imagined being able to walk beside you along the crystal blue shores of the Maldives, peace and relaxation washing over you to the point where you would finally have the time to take proper breaths.

But it was but a mere dream, only a reality in the depths of his mind where he was allowed to fantasise that you were still his.

For the next three hours, you stood side by side as you witnessed all the luxuries items being auctioned off one by one. Every once in a while you would shoot a casual comment in hopes it would lighten the looming cloud that hung over you — it remained persistent.

It didn’t go unnoticed, how the tension in your shoulders never completely evaporated. Even when your bosses came to shower you with praise for all the hard work you’d done, or when you were updated on the insane sum of money that would be donated, your shoulders remained permanently raised half an inch.

He could only suspect it was his presence that caused the strain. Maybe it had been a bad idea of him to attend.

In hindsight he could see how it was nothing short of selfish — because what other reason for attending would he have than only wanting to see you again? He didn’t serve any more purpose than decoration. His name wasn’t even among the most noticeable, so it wasn’t like he brought any more traction to the event than it already had.

Maybe it would be best if he just bolted, let you be able to enjoy what could be considered your evening. You should be proud, celebrate the success of your hard work.

As the auction had slowly evolved into a party, several pairs had decided to move along to the beautiful rhythm that filled the ballroom. Tobio would shoot shy glances towards you, spotting how you were staring longingly at the dance floor.

“You want to dance?”

“What?”

Shit — he hadn’t meant to blurt it out. He genuinely thought the question simply floated in his mind to entertain his fantasy. Seemed like his subconscious had more power than he thought when the words slipped past his lips.

And now you were stood ogling him in shock, arms wrapped around yourself as you were visibly trying to comprehend his question.

He cleared his throat, trying to find the confidence he used to have with you once upon a time. “Would you like to dance?” He asked again, voice steadier than he would have anticipated.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you considered his request. “Okay,” you whispered, his heart skipping a beat.

This was not the time to let his confidence waver, offering his elbow like a gentleman, holding his breath as he waited for you to hook your arm with his.

Stood in the middle of the dance floor facing each other, you tried to calm your rapid breathing as you waited for him to take the lead.

With slight hesitation you placed your right hand on his shoulder. And it seemed like he picked up on the reluctance in your movements, because his right hand grabbed a hold of yours to have it stretched out — reminding you how big they were compared to yours.

But when you felt his left hand make contact with your bare back, you couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath, igniting memories you had so sorely tried to forget.

In the dead of night, when it seemed like the two of you were the only people left in the world, he would place his lips tenderly along your back, pulling soft giggles from you as his breath tickled you when it brushed against your skin.

And now his warm hand was resting within the ghost of those kisses, reminding you not only of the private and intimate moments shared together, but also just how gentle he was with you.

To say Tobio was a little rough around the edges was an understatement. He could definitely be crass, tone bordering on cruel when talking to someone, despite having no ill intentions whatsoever. His face was nearly permanently stamped with a frown, seemingly always in a bad mood to the untrained eye.

The Tobio people saw on court was also ruthless. Always giving it his all, whether if it was his calculated sets or his powerful serves — he never showed his opponents mercy.

But the second a match was over, and he was reunited with you, all edge seemed to disappear. Same strong hands that had recently performed fiercely on the court, would now cup your face with utmost care while you shied away from prying eyes.

Same tender touch was pressed lovingly against your back in this very moment — and it felt so safe. The security he always supplied in his embrace came to show so easily. Taking care of you was second nature to him, even now after everything.

“Never known you to be a dancer,” you said carefully as he started to take the lead, moving surprisingly graciously along to the music.

“I’m full of surprises,” he dared to joke with the faintest smirk.

“Never known you to be a guy of surprises either,” you quipped, having his smirk stretch a little wider.

He turned to scan the other couples, leaving you to just admire him.

He really was beautiful, and he didn’t even seem to be the slightest bit aware of the fact. When going about his day, he never brought attention to himself so it was easy to forget — until it struck you like lightning from clear skies, suddenly and all at once.

“You’ve outdone yourself tonight,” he breathed, shifting his attention back to your face. It caught you off guard, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, scared he caught you in your admiration.

“You really think so?”

“Definitely. I’m really impressed.” Again you had his heart skip a beat, when for the first time this evening, you flashed him a wide and genuine grin.

“Thank you.”

“Then again-“ he began, a little scared to continue when you raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “You’ve always been impressive.”

Finally your stress released. Your shoulders lowered and you relaxed in his arms, a softness in your features he had been waiting to reunite with.

This was Tobio — the person you had shared countless conversations about all and nothing with, who knew you inside out. There wasn’t any reason for it to be uncomfortable. Why not make the best out of the situation?

“Volleyball’s going great, I hear,” you breathed, a newfound, though a little unsteady, contentment in your voice.

He nodded slowly, “yeah, you could say that,” a shameless smile of pride curling his lips upwards.

“Bet you can see the end of the road to being the best, now?”

“Staring to spot it,” he mused, acting a lot more humble than you were used to.

“Only Oikawa ahead of you now. Heard he’s still considered to be a remarkable setter-“

“Oh, shut up,” he said with a roll of the eyes, your words trailing into soft giggles.

“You know I’m just kidding. I’ve known you to be the best all along,” you said softly, slowly melting into his embrace more and more by the second.

And by the way he was looking at you right now, with a sense of safety that would always make you feel some sort of belonging, no matter what, you’d never be entirely lost when with Tobio.

It seemed like he felt it too. So many shared moments was coming back to him when being allowed to gaze into your eyes again, especially after all this time — he was scared he might end up spiralling if he let himself sink too deep in the familiar comfort of you.

You couldn’t help but flinch when he broke the eye contact, clearing his throat when he once again observed the surrounding crowd. “Do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think they’ll write about this?” He scoffed, nodding in the direction of the not so subtle press who had very clearly been snapping pictures of you.

You shrugged. “I’m not worried,” you breathed, “we were never really public enough to be prolific, were we?”

The soft sound of your nervous chuckle drew his attention right back to you. He shouldn’t be too surprised that something as simple as the sound of your laugh and the twinkle in your eye could threaten to have him fall back in again — he knew he was weak. He felt it every day, with every beat of his heart, how it pulled at him to return to you.

You were dangerous that way, both to him and yourself. Your eyes would always betray you when they were staring at him, your devotion clear as day. It was always simmering just below the surface no matter how far apart you were.

“Besides, I mean, I am really just some nobody working behind the scenes in some big company. I’m no one really cares about-“

A frustrate groan shot past his teeth, spotting how his eyebrows narrowed in the angle he so often sported. “You’ve never been a nobody.” He drew a breath, a distinctly sharp one, his lips drawing in a thin line as he churned what words to say next. “You’re more than a nobody. You’re more than a somebody. You matter. You’re the only one who matters.” His voice was stern, but surprisingly calm — which only made it worse.

You couldn’t wrap your head around how he managed to serve such insanely deep and powerful declaration as it was nothing. It was like he had no idea what kind of weight his words carried, no regard for what impact it might have on you.

And there was a very simple explanation to that — because to him it was nothing. It was just the truth, which always came easy to him.

He noticed the inner corners of your eyebrows tighten, painting your face with sorrow as the corner of your lips drooped south.

“There were reasons, right? Reasons we broke up?” He asked carefully. As his volume lowered, he tilted his head forward, bringing him so painfully close.

Your sad eyes flittered between his, his crystal pools of blue that always enforced the intensity of his messages, and you began to think.

When you could feel his love still pulsating off of him, and his slightly calloused thumb sending sparks throughout your body as it subconsciously moved back and forth in soft swipes along your spine, it was hard to remember any one reason for why things ended at all.

“Yeah,” you sighed solemnly, nodding slowly, “yeah, I’m sure there was.”

The deep breath he took brushed against your face, and you had to swallow the little sob that harboured deep in your throat. “Do you miss it?”

You instantly knew what he really asked — did you miss him — the real meaning wasn’t hard to deduce, Tobio had always been horrible at hiding his real intentions.

“Sure, some days more than others,” your voice cracked slightly. It was only for a faint second, but it flashed across his face how it wasn’t necessarily the answer he wanted, a hint of anger threatening to scrunch his face. But it evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s not easy, if that’s what you’re really asking.”

“You see right through me, huh?” It sounded as he was attempting to pull the mood up, but when there was no rise in his tone nor an optimistic twitch in his expression, he failed miserably.

“Well, still know you better than I know myself.”

Silence fell between you, still letting the safety of his arms guide you along to the symphonies that filled the ballroom. You were so close to falling in, completely surrender to the serenity you knew would come over you if you just gave in.

“You know, if there was something I did, I am really sor-“

“Can we pretend?” You cut him off. “Just for tonight, can we just forget everything and pretend?”

His lips parted in surprise. Your antsy nerves creeped back into your body when he slowly pulled back, certain he would turn the request down.

And he knew he should. In a matter of seconds, the healing you’d both gone through up until this point would be undone. But he wasn’t strong enough, especially after having been at war with that antagonising devil on his shoulder all night. With your request egging it on, he was going to let it win.

“Okay,” he whispered, straightening his posture.

With the blink of an eye, you had turned it all off. A smile adorned your lips before simply inching closer to rest your cheek against his chest, reunited with the sound of his heartbeat that you were so used to falling asleep too.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him rest his cheek on the crown of your head, his limbs squeezing you just a little tighter, as if it was somehow going to prevent you from slipping away when the evening came to a close.

You had expected it to pick up its pace, beat like a hummingbird — but it was steady.

Maybe his heart was finally beating steady, after stuttering in his chest for months, lost as it tried to find back to its purpose. And now it had been reunited with it, instantly recognising the euphoria and quickly settling into its supposed rhythm.

Bittersweet — that was how it felt. You were allowing yourself to completely bask in the comfort of Tobio. You hadn’t felt such contentment and rest since the split, and it felt nice to breathe calmly for once.

But he was still your ex, and it would come to an end eventually, again going your separate ways.

Those were sorrows for tomorrow.

You allowed yourself to dance with him, your tears quietly wetting the fabric of his jacket until the evening came to an end.

Looming in the shadow of the auctions success was a sight no one had expected to see.

She’s the cute face behind the whole event, having worked countless hours to pull it all together for it to turn out the way it did, and it’s safe to assume she is probably thrilled with the sum they were able to rake in for the sake of a good cause.

However, you’re probably reading her name and finding it awfully familiar — but you can’t seem to understand why; there’s no reason for you to know the name of some random employee at a big shot company. The name probably rings a bell because she is better known as the ex girlfriend of star player Kageyama Tobio, seemingly home in Japan for a visit. Was the reason for his unexpected return solely to attend the big evening of a special ex-someone?

During their time together, they rarely made headlines as they were notorious for keeping their relationship private. But once the handsome Ali Roma setter became available, people were quick to show their interest.

Though we were not lucky enough to be of attendance at the charity auction, we’ve gotten our hands on exclusive pictures from the night. Not only were they spotted together for the majority of the evening, these photos show they didn’t seem shy when sharing a rather intimate moment on the dance floor.

One can start to speculate if the corporate sweetheart has once again swooned the sought after Kageyama.

Fret not, because we got a rare statement from the woman of the hour, and she says : “I have nothing but respect and adoration for Kageyama, but-“

Tobio shut the magazine, unable to finish the article.

tags : @hiraethwa ﾉ @shouyuus (hope you dont mind i added you love)

an : dedicated to tobio nation <3 lets go with the angst, it is obvi what i love. idk if you guys picked it up, but to me it's sooooo clear where my writers block started to disappear lol comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Laswell singling you out for a solo mission. Your mission? To be a host at a *spicy* charity ball to raise money for an AIDs foundation (so that Laswell can figure out who's been draining the accounts of business tycoons all over the world).

And despite everything you've done to keep them away, the 141 shows up as rather wealthy patrons. They actually have no idea what Laswell is having you do. They're just bored and figured that they could get an eyeful of pretty young things without you around to judge. And to make matters worse, the event is hosting an auction for dates with the hosts (aka you, which means you are to be toted off to the highest bidder)!