#i feel like i came back at the perfect time

[lupinqs]

SANTA BABY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader

𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: during your christmas trip to NYC, you have a surprise waiting for paige back at the hotel.

𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 4.9K

𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: sexual content (munch p, scissoring)

𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: my christmas eve gift to y’all …. it was almost taken away tho because of that usc game ask the gc man i was crashing out

THE CITY is buzzing even at this hour, cold wind cutting through the streets as Paige makes her way back to the hotel. She tugs her coat tighter around herself, her hands jammed into her pockets to ward off the sting of the December chill. New York City is magical this time of year, but it’s also freezing, and she can’t wait to get back to the suite, where it’s warm—and more importantly, where you are.

This trip has been a mix of business and pleasure. She had a couple of sponsorship obligations to knock out and a media appearance scheduled for tomorrow, but mostly, it’s just an excuse to spend a few uninterrupted days with you. Both of your schedules have been so hectic lately—hers with the grind of off-season and the stress of Unrivaled about to start, and yours with work—and carving out this time feels like a luxury. It’s the last weekend before Christmas, and since you’re both gonna be spending the holiday with your families together, this is your time to celebrate just the two of you.

Paige hurries into the hotel, rubbing her hands together as she steps into the elevator. She flexes her fingers, still stiff from gripping a basketball for hours during her workout with Stewie and Sabrina. She promised you that she wouldn’t let it run late, and, as she glances at her phone to see the time, she’s satisfied that she fulfilled it.

Her sneakers hit the polished floor with soft thuds as she unlocks the door to the suite. The space is lavish, the kind of indulgence she spent because one, it’s the holidays, and two, she wanted this weekend to be perfect for the two of you. The warmth of the suite embraces her immediately, the city’s chill feeling miles away here. She shrugs off her coat, tossing it over the couch, and kicks off her sneakers.

“Baby, I’m back!” she calls, her voice echoing faintly in the spacious suite. When she came in, she assumed that you’d be in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket and whatever Netflix show you’ve been binge-watching. But the living room is empty, the TV off.

Her brows furrow as she looks around, scanning for signs of you. “You in the bedroom?” she calls out, though there’s still no answer. Her pulse picks up, not in worry, but in curiosity. She hums, wondering where you’re hiding.

The hallway feels quiet as she moves down it, pushing open the door to the bedroom. The sight that greets her makes her stop dead in her tracks, feet planted in the doorway.

The lights are dim, the warm glow casting a soft, golden hue across the room. A bottle of wine sits on the nightstand, one glass already poured and in your hand. But it’s you that holds her attention, that makes her brain short-circuit entirely.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a smirk that could stop traffic. And you’re wearing—Paige feels her throat go dry—this tiny, ridiculously sexy Christmas lingerie set. The red satin clings to you in all the right places, barely covering what it’s meant to, and the white fur trim is so playful, so sinful, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or groan. The ribbon on the front of your bra is tied in a neat little bow, teasingly undone just enough to look like you’d barely bothered. The matching panties sit high on your hips, connected to sheer thigh-high stockings by the tiniest garters she’s ever seen.

She doesn’t even realize she’s standing completely still until you grin at her, your voice playful and sweet as you say, “Hi, baby.”

Paige blinks, her brain struggling to catch up as she stares at you. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline giving way to something much more visceral. The way you’re looking at her, the way the light catches the curve of your body—it’s like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again. She lets out a low, shaky breath, her hand running through her hair as her eyes continue to rove over your figure. Her stomach constricts, her whole body coiled so tight she’s not sure if she wants to drop to her knees or throw herself at you. Maybe both.

“Fuck, ma,” she finally manages, her voice low and husky as she steps forward. Her hands flex instinctively, wanting to touch you, needing to touch you. “You tryna kill me?”

You giggle, the sound light and sweet, but the glint in your eyes is anything but innocent. “No,” you say, tilting your head slightly as you take a slow sip from your wine glass. Your smirk widens, and Paige swears her knees almost buckle.

She exhales sharply, inching closer to the bed. “You look…” Her voice trails off, her gaze roaming over you like she’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. “Jesus, baby, you look insane.”

You’re still grinning as she reaches the edge of the bed, her hands resting on the mattress as she leans down slightly, bringing her face level with yours. Her pulse races, her body buzzing with anticipation as her eyes lock with yours. “You did this for me?” she asks softly, though she already knows the answer.

“Who else?” you ask, grinning, your voice a teasing lilt that makes Paige’s chest tighten. You set your wine glass down on the nightstand, your eyes never leaving hers.

Paige is already leaning forward, her hands sliding to your thighs, the warmth of your skin and the delicate fabric of your lingerie making her head spin. “You’re gon’ be the death of me,” she murmurs, shaking her head a little as her lips brush against yours lightly, hands tightening on your legs. And God, if this is how she goes, she’ll thank you for it.

Her lips finally lock onto yours, slow at first, like she’s savoring the moment. The kiss is soft, tender, but there’s an edge to it—like she’s holding herself back, barely. Her hands tighten on your thighs, sliding higher, the heat of your skin burning through the thin satin, and she swears she feels you shiver beneath her touch.

You kiss her back, your arms looping around her neck to pull her closer, and that’s all the invitation Paige needs. She shifts, climbing onto the bed, her knees sinking into the mattress as she presses herself against you. The warmth of your body sends a rush of heat through her, and she deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours as she loses herself in the taste of you.

“You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she murmurs against your mouth, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning. Her lips leave yours only to trail down your jaw, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.

Her hands roam as her mouth works. One slides up to cup the back of your neck, her thumb brushing over your jaw to tilt your head just the way she likes. The other settles firmly on your hip, her grip strong enough to keep you exactly where she wants you, though her fingers twitch like she’s desperate to touch you everywhere at once.

The scent of you—the faint lotion you always wear, mixed with the wine you’ve been drinking—fills her senses, and Paige feels drunk on it, drunk on you. Her lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, and when she hears the soft, breathy sound you make in response, it sends a jolt of electricity straight through her.

“Damn,” she mutters, her teeth grazing your skin lightly before she soothes the spot with her tongue.

Your hands tug at the hem of her long-sleeve shirt, and she sits back just enough to let you pull it over her head. You toss it somewhere behind her, leaving her in her sports bra. Her abs flex slightly in the cool air, but the way your eyes roam over her makes her feel anything but cold. She watches you, her chest heaving, her pupils blown wide as you reach out to touch her, your hands sliding over her shoulders and down her torso, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

And then she’s diving back in, her kisses lower now, lips finding the delicate line of your collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses there like she’s starving for you—which, she is. Her tongue darts out to taste your skin, her teeth scraping against you enough to leave you shivering. She feels your fingers tangle in her hair, undoing her ponytail as you pull her closer. Her breath quickens slightly, chest heaving with just how much she wants you.

Her fingers find the ribbon on your bra, tugging at it gently as her lips brush over the swell of your cleavage. “This,” she mutters, her voice muffled against your skin, “is fucking killin’ me.” She pulls back just enough to look at you, her thumb brushing over the satin. “You tied it so pretty for me, huh? Knowing I’d lose my damn mind?”

You laugh softly, breathily, fingers tangling further in her hair. “Maybe.”

“Slut,” Paige mutters, grinning as she tugs the bow loose with one sharp pull, letting the fabric fall open, your perky tits popping out of it. Her breath catches as she sees you fully now, blue eyes darkening with something heavy, something primal.

“Goddamn, mama,” she breathes, her hands sliding along your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. She leans down again, her lips brushing against the curve of your breast. “You’re so beautiful, so sexy, so perfect, baby. It ain’t even fair.”

And then her mouth closes around your nipple, her tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as she sucks gently, and the sound you make in response sends a jolt straight through her. She groans softly, her free hand sliding up to cup your other breast. She alternates between kisses and soft bites, her lips tugging gently at your nipple before soothing the spot with her tongue. Her breath is hot against your skin, and she presses closer, hips grinding against yours just a little as her mouth moves.

“Such perfect tits,” she murmurs against your cleavage, her teeth grazing you again as she switches to your other breast.

She licks a slow, careful path across your skin, savoring every inch of you as she begins to lower once more. Her mouth leaves a wet trail down your stomach, her tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the faint salt on your skin. Her hands slide down from your chest, settling on your waist. She grips the skin hard, pinching slightly. Her lips brush over the curve of your belly, then down to the soft plane just above your hips, like she’s mapping every part of you with her tongue.

She pauses for a moment, just long enough to lift her head and admire the way the red lace hugs your skin. The fabric is delicate, so inviting, it’s like it was made to drive her insane. The sheer material leaves almost nothing to her imagination, and the sight of it—of you and your perfect pussy—sends a rush of wetness to her own core.

She just shakes her head a little, as if in disbelief, before lowering again, her lips grazing the edge of the lace as her fingers grip your hips tighter. She can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body tenses slightly beneath her, the way you say her name, and it makes her head spin.

Her tongue flicks out, tracing the edge of the fabric, teasing. She presses a kiss just below your navel, then another, breath warm. “You got any idea what you’re doin’ to me, baby?” she asks slowly.

You don’t even get the opportunity to answer before her teeth catch the edge of your panties lightly, tugging just enough to make you gasp. And then she lets it snap back into place with a soft, playful grin. She glances up at you, eyes dark and blazing, blonde hair falling into her face as she leans closer again. The way you look back at her—pupils wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed—spurs her on.

Her lips hover just above the lace, and she kisses you there, slow and careful, her mouth pressing over the thin barrier like she can’t stand not to be closer. “So pretty,” she murmurs against you, her fingers brushing over the lace now, testing the material as her tongue flicks out once more, tasting you even through the fabric.

Her big hands slide from your waist to your thighs, spreading them just enough to give her room to work. Her teeth catch the edge of the waistband, tugging gently, and she groans low in her throat as the fabric gives way slightly under her pull.

“Fuck,” Paige mutters, and it’s muffled as she grips the lace between her teeth. She pauses just long enough for you to whimper, “Paige,” before she tugs again, this time pulling the panties down your hips with deliberate slowness.

She moves inch by inch, her teeth grading the lace lower, and she’s completely transfixed. The garters make her work for it, the straps pulling taut against the tension, but she doesn’t mind—if anything, it drives her wilder. Her lips slide along your skin as she works, kissing the sensitive spots where the panties leave a faint imprint.

As she reaches your thighs, Paige shifts, letting the fabric slide past her lips and catching it with her fingers instead. She tugs it the rest of the way down with her teeth again, dragging it along the curve of your legs, her mouth brushing your inner thighs as she goes.

When the panties finally slip off completely, Paige lets them drop from her teeth to the floor, her breath shallow as she grips your thighs, holding them apart. Her eyes rake over every inch of you—the way your face has gone bright pink in a flush, the way your tits peek from the opened lingerie top, the way your cunt is absolutely glistening for her.

She licks her lips slowly, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk as her gaze flicks back up to your face. “Shit, mama,” she says lowly. “Look at you. Fuckin’ dripping for me.”

Paige doesn’t waste any more time. She slides down on her elbows, lowering herself between your legs, her mouth attaching to your clit with an intensity that makes you cry out. She sucks and licks with fervor, her tongue working you over with a skill that leaves both of your lungs aching, Paige’s face buried so deep in your folds she has to fight for air. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and desperation that has you writhing beneath her, hips bucking.

“Babe… mmm, shit,” you whimper, voice trembling as you reach down to grasp at the sheets, knuckles white with the effort to hold on. You can barely keep your eyes open, pleasure so intense it’s nearly blinding. “Please, fuck, don’t stop.”

Paige has no intentions of stopping. She moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you in place firmly as she devours you like a woman starved. Her tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling across your clit before laying it flat, shaking her head from side to side messily, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, ma, you taste so good,” Paige groans, pulling away just long enough to let a glob of her spit land on your cunt. She leans back in, lapping it up, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Could eat you out all night, baby…”

Your back arches off the bed at Paige’s words, causing the lingerie top to slide down your shoulders a little more. Your hips buck involuntarily as you chase the pleasure Paige gives you, one of your hands coming up to knead your own tit, mouth dropping open at the way Paige’s tongue slides along your wetness effortlessly. You’re desperate, every nerve ending in your body tingling with need. “Paige, baby, ‘M so close,” you choke out.

Paige only intensifies her efforts, her tongue flicking against your clit faster, her mouth working you over with an urgency that has you teetering on the edge. She’s relentless, giving you exactly what you need, pushing you closer and closer until you’re trembling, your thighs quivering around her head.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, Paige pulls back slightly, her mouth leaving your clit. You let out a desperate whine at the loss, body screaming for more, but Paige is already moving. She slides two fingers inside you without warning, thrusting them in deep, hard, and fast. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, hands flying to Paige’s shoulders as you cling to her, body trembling with the force of Paige’s thrusts.

“Mmm, mama,” the blonde breathes out lowly as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with a brutal pace, the slick sound of her digits moving in and out echoing in the otherwise quiet hotel room. “So fucking tight, so wet for me. Shit, baby.”

She glances up, gaze on you as your head falls back against the pillows, your eyes squeezing shut as you let out a strangled moan, hips moving to meet Paige’s thrusts. She feels a rush of wetness flood her own boxers and picks up the pace even more, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you, a white-hot fire that consumes you from the inside you. “Paige, oh my God… holy shit…”

Paige leans in close, biting lightly at your inner thigh as she whispers, “Think you can take three, baby?”

She watches as your eyes fly open at the question, brows furrowing as you nod frantically. “Yes. Yeah, do it,” you force out breathlessly. “Please, P.”

Paige smirks at your reaction, but doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls her fingers out briefly, adding a third finger before thrusting back inside, her movements deliberate and rough, stretching you out. Your hips buck up to meet Paige hand, chasing the pleasure. Paige scissors her fingers inside you, making you choke a little on your own whimper, nails digging into her skin, gripping the strap of her sports bra.

“Such a—God, you’re such a fuckin’ slut,” Paige groans, eyes locked onto your face, watching every single expression of pleasure that crosses your features. “Wearing that lingerie, knowing I’d lose my goddamn mind. Shit.”

Your entire body is one fire, senses overwhelmed by the combination of the relentless pace of Paige’s thrusts and the dirtiness that coats her words. You can feel every inch of Paige’s fingers inside you, can feel the way they stretch you, the way they hit that perfect spongy spot deep inside that makes you see stars. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum. God, I’m—” You cut yourself off with a loud moan.

Paige leans forward, her mouth finding your clit again, tongue swirling slick circles over the sensitive nub as she continues to thrust her long fingers in and out, faster and harder, pushing you to the brink. “Shit, ma, do it,” she urges roughly, humming against you as she laps at your pussy. “Cum for me. Cum all fucking over me, mama.”

That’s all you need to hear. With a strangled cry, your entire body tenses, back arching off the bed as you come hard, walls clenching around Paige’s fingers, gushing against her face. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

Paige keeps thrusting her fingers, lapping at your wetness lazily, riding out your orgasm with you. She prolongs the pleasure until you’re nothing but a quivering, panting mess beneath her. When your body finally goes limp, Paige slowly withdraws her fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to your trembling thighs.

And then she starts crawling back up your body, her lips trailing over the lingering marks she’d left along her descent. Your eyes meet, a shared intensity overtaking the laziness you were just feeling, Paige’s lips finding you’re once more in a searing, desperate kiss. It’s messy and heated, tongues tangling, hands grasping and pulling at each other. You can taste yourself on Paige’s lips and it only makes you kiss her harder.

You let Paige flip your positions with her strength, your thighs now straddling Paige’s waist. She groans a little against your mouth as her hands find your bare ass, fingers digging into the skin and kneading it, your bodies pressing together.

“Ma,” Paige breathes out when you pull away slightly, sliding her sports bra up and over her head. Her hands reach down for her sweatpants and you help her yank them—and her boxers beneath—down in one swift motion. Paige’s hips lift off the bed, and the two of you finally rid of the barrier. You toss the clothing aside without a second thought.

Paige’s lips curl into a smirk as her eyes lock with yours again, pulling you closer with her hands on your ass, bodies flush against each other. “C’mon,” she murmurs thickly.

Your breath hitches at the feel of Paige’s hands on your hips, guiding you to align your cunts together. The sensation is sinful, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips as you feel the heat and slickness of Paige’s wetness against your own.

“That’s it, mama,” the blonde encourages, sending a shiver down your spine. “Ride me, grind on me. Lemme feel you.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You start moving your hips in slow, careful circles, your slick pussy sliding against Paige’s with every movement. The sensation is overwhelming, and your head falls back as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for support.

Paige’s eyes are glued to you, tracking every move, every expression. She’s mesmerized by the way your face contorts with pleasure, your mouth falling open slightly as your hips move with increasing urgency. Paige’s hands tighten on your hips, helping to guide your movements, pushing you down harder against her own aching cunt.

“Shit,” Paige groans, blue eyes flitting between your flushed face, the way your tits bounce slightly with every thrust of your hips, and where your pussy grinds against hers. “You look so fuckin’ hot riding me like this.”

You whimper at Paige’s words, pace quickening as the heat between you builds to an almost unbearable level. The friction of your clits rubbing together is enough to make you lose control, unable to hold back the desperate sounds that escape your lips.

“You like that, baby?” Paige rasps, voice dripping with lust as she watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “You like grinding that pretty pussy against me, yeah?”

Your only response is a choked moan, body trembling as you lean forward, hands sliding up to grip the headboard for support. The new angle allows you to press down even harder against Paige, and it sends shockwaves through both of your bodies.

Paige’s eyes roll back in her head at the increased pressure, her own hips bucking up to meet the roll of yours. She’s completely entranced by the sight of you riding her, chest heaving as she helps you, gripping your ass and pulling you quicker against her.

“Feels so fucking good,” she groans roughly.

You whimper at her words, body moving faster, more desperate, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. You’re both so close, bodies trembling with the effort to keep going, to chase the high that you both desperately need.

“Paige,” you gasp, breathless and needy. “I’m almost there.”

Paige’s grip on your ass tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as she urges you on. “That’s it,” she encourages, your folds so slick against hers. “Cum for me again. Need it right fuckin’ now.”

You cry out, your entire body tensing as you reach your peak, hips grinding down hard against Paige as you finish with a shuddering moan. The pleasure washes over you in waves, leaving you trembling and breathless as you ride out your orgasm.

Paige isn’t far behind, the sight of you coming undone above her enough to push her over the edge. Her own orgasm hits her hard, her hips jerking up as she lets out a low, guttural moan, her fingers digging into your ass and hips as she rides it out.

You collapse onto her, your body melting into hers, every muscle in you soft and spent. Her skin is warm beneath yours, slick with the same thin sheen of sweat that glistens on your back. Paige’s chest rises and falls erratically under your cheek, her breath heavy and labored, matching your own. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat pounds faintly against your ear, grounding you.

Her arms come around you almost instinctively, wrapping you in a hold that’s firm yet gentle, one hand splayed across your lower back, the other lazily circling between your shoulder blades. Her fingers drag lightly over your skin, soothing and possessive at once, as though she’s trying to memorize every inch of you. She shifts slightly beneath you, her body fitting against yours with an intimacy that feels effortless, as though this is where you’re meant to be.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside and the soft, uneven breaths you’re both still trying to catch. Paige’s head tilts back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut as she lets the tension drain from her body, your weight on top of her a comfort she never realized she needed so much.

And then, with a low, raspy chuckle that vibrates through her chest, Paige breaks the silence. “Damn.”

The single word, said with so much raw awe and disbelief, makes you laugh. The sound is quiet, breathy, but it shakes through you, your shoulders trembling lightly against her. Paige feels the warmth of your laugh against her neck, and a lazy smile spreads across her face, her lips curving up in a way that makes her look soft, completely undone.

Her hand moves from your back, trailing slowly upward, the tips of her fingers grazing your spine before they find your jaw. She cradles it gently, guiding your face upward so your eyes meet hers. There’s something so special in the way she looks at you—like you’re the only thing that exists in her world right now. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and then she’s leaning in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and lingering, deep and unhurried.

She hums softly into it, the sound vibrating against your mouth, and when she pulls back just enough to speak, her voice is low and rough. “Did so perfect for me,” she murmurs, her eyes scanning your face as if committing it to memory.

Your lips curve into a small, sleepy smile, and you let your head rest against her shoulder once more. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice soft but sure.

Paige’s arms tighten around you in response, her fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your shoulder. She doesn’t say it back immediately, but the way she holds you—the way her lips press a gentle kiss to your temple—says it louder than words ever could.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the moment settling around you like a warm, comforting blanket. Paige’s breathing steadies, her chest rising and falling beneath you in a rhythm that feels calming, almost hypnotic. When she finally moves, it’s only to reach for the nightstand, her fingers curling around the bottle of wine that’s been sitting there, untouched until now.

She pours herself a glass first, then grabs yours, her hand steady as she offers it. “Here,” she says softly, her voice still husky.

You take the glass from her with a small smile, your fingers brushing hers, and Paige feels that familiar spark, that electric current that always seems to buzz between you. She watches you as you take a sip, the way your lips curl around the rim of the glass, the way your eyes meet hers over the edge of it.

After a few minutes, Paige sets her empty glass aside and leans over the edge of the bed, her hand brushing against the discarded lingerie top. She picks it up, holding it up in the dim light, letting it dangle from her fingers as she turns back to you with a lazy grin. “This,” she says, her tone playful but still thick with awe, “was crazy.”

You smile at her, wide and teasing, your head tilting slightly as you reply, “You loved it.”

Paige laughs softly, shaking her head as she leans down to kiss you again, her lips lingering against yours as she murmurs, “Course I did.” Her voice is warm, sincere, and when she pulls back, the grin on her face is so full of love it makes your chest tighten.

The two of you settle back into the bed, the wine forgotten on the nightstand as Paige tucks you against her side, her arm draped over your waist. The city hums softly in the background, but all Paige can hear is the quiet sound of your breathing, the steady rhythm of your heart against hers. And in this moment, with you curled against her, Paige thinks there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

[inlovewithpandora]

⋆｡°✩ — His Favorite Fantasy ᝰ A Rafe Cameron Christmas Special

Lyrics — Rafe’s been begging to introduce roleplay into your sex life, and you’ve been brushing him off—until now. When he comes home from a long trip, you surprise him in a sexy maid costume, turning his wildest fantasy into reality. Christmas came early, and so will he when you’re done with him.

Music Advisory — roleplay [reader is a sexy maid], a little smutty [brief handjob/blowjob], very suggestive ending, s4!rafe coded, business man!rafe,

Duration — 3k words

Words from Artist — Happy Christmas Eve Everyone! I wanted to write a fun and smutty holiday fic for Rafe and this is the concept I came up with! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

Rafe has been dropping hints for months— lingering looks, teasing remarks, and casual comments that made it clear about what he wanted. The Kook prince has been wanting to experiment in the bedroom for a while, bringing a new spice to your sexual relationship by having a role-play session. It’s been on his mind for a while and he wasn’t shy of letting his fantasies be known.

It started out as a joke—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. One of Rafe’s usual throwaway, flirty remarks—the type that always made you roll your eyes and mutter a soft, “You’re crazy, Rafe,” as you gave him a playful shove. But your slightly dismissive attitude never stopped him. If anything, it only encouraged him to bring the idea up more.

Over breakfast, during your lazy afternoons at home, when you both are partying at the boneyard, even during your late night phone calls. No matter the setting, whenever the thought of you in a slutty little costume, showing off the assets you were blessed with, he speaks his mind.

Like that time a few weeks ago, when you were cooking dinner. You’d been on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab an ingredient from a high shelf, Rafe walked up behind you, pressing his chest against your back, and his arm stretching past yours as he helped you reach what you were looking for. “Y’know,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “you’d look so sexy in one of those little outfits. All short ‘n tight, wearing one of those skimpy skirts.”

“Rafe!” you’d hiss, fighting a tight lipped smile while your cheeks burn from his flirty comment. You stepped out of his grasp and swatted his arm like you usually do when he brings up the idea of you dressing up for him.

"What?" he'd say, grinning like the devil himself, giving your ass a nice grab before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Just tryin’ to paint you a picture."

It wasn't just the comments, though. It was the tone of his voice, the way his voice dripped with mischief, his eyes dark and suggestive, like he knew exactly how to get under your skin. And damn it, he was good at it. You'd laugh it off every time, rolling your eyes or shaking your head, pretending you weren't affected while saying “Keep dreaming, Cameron. Not gonna happen”. But in reality you actually wanted to dress up in a slutty costume for Rafe, you just couldn’t let him know that.

Your plan has been in moniton for months, with Christmas right around the corner you thought this would be the perfect time to give him what he’s been practically begging for as an early Christmas gift. You’ve been spending your time scrolling through multiple websites, trying to find the perfect ensemble to surprise him with. After continuously surfing the web you finally found the perfect costume and it was thankfully delivered just in time to surprise Rafe with it before he came home from his business trip.

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as you open the package, pulling out each part of the costume in awe as you imagine the material clinging to your curves, and how Rafe’s going to be practically trying to rip it off you after the image of you being his sexy maid is stained in his brain. Out of all the role-playing scenarios he’s talked to you about, acting as his maid who ‘cleans up his messes’ and ‘does a little extra for her holiday bonus’ is the one he’s brought up the most.

Rafe’s private jet landed a few hours ago so now you’re currently preparing for his arrival and doing final touches on your look; spraying your favorite scent of perfume, taking your hair out of its current updo and allowing it to cascade down shoulders, and finishing your makeup with your strongest setting spray to keep it as fresh as possible.

As you take one final glance in your full length mirror, you can’t help but feel a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach. The maid costume fit perfectly, snug in all the right places, the small white apron tied neatly around your waist, and the white thigh-high stockings with a lacy trim that adds a perfect amount of tease. You give yourself a once over, turning slightly to admire your physique, causing a smirk to come across your lips. “Damn, I look good.” You mumble under your breath as you make sure your hair looks its very best.

The sound of your phone buzzing as it sits on your vanity pulls your attention away from the mirror and you walk over to see read the notification which you soon realized it was a text from Rafe:

[8:55PM] Ray❤️: Just pulled in the driveway, baby.

As your eyes read Rafe’s text your heart skips a beat as the moment you’ve been carefully planning for months is finally here. You quickly adjust your stockings, grab the feather duster off your bed, and make your way downstairs to the front door, taking a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves.

After a few minutes of waiting you can hear the keys being placed in the front door, and soon the door swings open and reveals Rafe. His navy blazer was slung over his shoulder, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his usual confidence carrying him inside. “Baby!” He calls out while his eyes quickly scans the area around the front door before he goes into his home office and sets his things down before trying to find you around the large square footage of Tannyhill. “Baby, where are you-” His words become lodged in his throat and his eyes widen when his gaze lands on you, standing in the kitchen in your costume, leaning against the granite countertop with a feather duster in your hand with a coy smile.

"Holy shit," His voice is low and raspy, he runs his hand over his buzz cut and rubs the back of his neck out of shock and disbelief that you’re standing in front of him, acting out one of his top fantasies. Rafe’s eyes can’t pry away from you in this beautiful ensemble: an all black lace corset that pushes up your plump breast, a little mini skirt that shows the bottom of your ass cheeks if you bend over in the slightest, white garters around your thighs and stockings wrapped around your slender legs, and the cherry on top that completes the outfit—and causes his cock to strain against his slacks— is your pretty feet in the Christian Louboutin black stilettos he bought you a while back.

“Welcome home, Mr. Cameron.” your voice is laced with a playful innocence but your eyes are telling a different story. Rafe doesn't respond immediately; his jaw slackens slightly, and his piercing blue eyes roam over body, soaking in every detail of your outfit like he's committing it to memory so he’ll never forget. His hand remains frozen on the back of his neck as though he's trying to ground himself from the initial wave of shock. Finally, his lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk, the kind that always sends shivers down your spine.

"Holy shit," he repeats, his voice thicker this time. He drops his blazer onto the back of a chair and walks toward you with purposeful steps, resting his hands on your hips, trying his best to keep himself under control and not just devour you right here on the kitchen counter. "I must've walked into the wrong house because there's no way my girl-" He pauses, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "—the one who's been brushing me off for months-is standing here looking like every fantasy i've ever had."

You twirl the feather duster in your hand, your coy smile growing as you feel his hand grasp the flesh of your ass. "Well, Mr. Cameron. I thought it was time I finally give you what you’ve been asking for." you say, your tone dripping with playful seduction.

Rafe's grip on your ass tightens, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you gasp. His smirk deepens and his eyes turn a shade darker with a glint of desire, showing that he’s clearly amused by how committed you are to your role. "You got no idea how long i've been waiting for this, baby." he drawls, his voice low and teasing.

Rafe steps even closer, pressing his body against yours until there's no space left between you, allowing you to feel his bulge that’s aching to be wrapped around your sweet pussy. His other hand slides up your waist, brushing against the lacy corset before resting just below your breast. "You've been playing hard to get," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making goosebumps rise to the surface. "Brushing me off, laughing it away like I didn't mean it... And now you're just gonna stand there ‘n act like you didn't drive me crazy on purpose?"

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure under his intense gaze and his fiery touch as his hands move to multiple parts of your body. "I wanted it to be a surprise, an early Christmas gift." you whisper, setting the feather duster done and beginning to unbutton the rest of Rafe’s shirt so you can get him shirtless. "And judging by the look on your face, l'd say I made the right decision."

A dark chuckle escapes Rafe’s throat as his lips graze the corner of your mouth. "Oh, you did, sweetheart," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "But don't think for a second you're getting away with teasing me like this."

Rafe steps back slightly, his hands sliding down your thighs before effortlessly lifting you onto the countertop. The cool granite against your skin sends a shiver through your body, and before you can even react, he leans in, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone in teasing nips.

"I've got a lot of making up to do for all the times you told me this wasn't your thing," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. His lips leave a trail of red marks, each one more insistent than the last, and you know they'll be hard to cover up tomorrow when you head out.

You grin at his remark, the teasing satisfaction in your eyes matched only by the heat building between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that's raw and hungry, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat in a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. He kisses you sloppily, yet perfectly, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless and desperate for more.

Finally, he pulls away, his lips hovering just above yours, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm all yours, Mr. Cameron," you breathe, your voice thick with anticipation. "Whatever you need, I'm here to help."

Rafe pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes, his hand still wrapped around your throat, his grip firm but careful. His lips are slightly swollen from the rough kiss, and his piercing blue eyes are dark with desire. "Whatever I need, huh?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, exposing more of your neck to him.

You nod, your breath hitching as his lips graze your throat, his stubble rough against your sensitive skin. "Yes, that's what I'm here for," you whisper, your voice shaky but steady enough to keep up the act.

His piercing gaze locks onto yours, and then he lowers his eyes, making a slow, deliberate trail down to the very obvious bulge straining against his slacks. "Oh, i've got something you can help me out with," he says, his voice dripping with filthy intent. His hand slid to your chin, tilting your head up so you couldn't look anywhere but at him. "And trust me, sweetheart, it's a big job."

Your breath hitches as Rafe's words hang in the air, thick with desire and dirty promise. His piercing blue eyes pin you in place, his grip on your chin firm but gentle, commanding your attention. The smirk on his lips is cocky and confident, the kind that always makes your stomach flip.

"Oh, is that so?" you murmur, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze, though you try to keep your tone playful.

Rafe tilts his head, his thumb brushing lightly against your bottom lip. "Mhm," he hums, his voice low and gravelly. "You've been teasing me all night with this little outfit, acting like a good girl. But we both know better, don't we?"

Your cheeks flush at his words, but you hold his gaze, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Well, Mr. Cameron," you reply, your voice dripping with false innocence, "I'm just here to... serve."

That earns you a low, dark chuckle from Rafe, his fingers sliding down to grip your neck lightly, just enough to make your pulse race. "Good," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you. "Then get down on your knees and start working... because I'm not letting you off easy."

The command sends a rush of heat through your body, and you feel his hands guide you off the counter with practiced ease. “Yes sir, Mr. Cameron.” Once your heels hit the tile you grab Rafe’s hand and lead him to the living room, making sure you twist your hips perfectly so your ass ripples with each step you take so Rafe’s eyes stay glued to your body.

When you're in front of the couch you softly push him into the cushiony material and once he’s seated your knees hit the soft rug beneath you, looking up at Rafe through your lashes while you undo the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather through its loops and throw it off to the side before pulling his pants and boxers down. Once the cotton cloth is no longer acting as a restraint, Rafe’s hardened cock springs free, softly hitting his lower abdomen before it rests in front of you, pre-cum leaking down his tip, making your mouth water at the sight.

You wrap your hand around his shaft, creating a pleasant sensation to shoot through Rafe’s body as your warm palm moves toward his tip and down to his base. Once you see the veins in his cock become prominent, and his shaft starts to throb in your hand, you move all your hair over your shoulder before kissing Rafe’s pinkish tip and taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue on his cock and sucking him off just the way he likes.

As Rafe watches you, your lipstick leaving stains on cock, the way you're taking him deep in your throat, watching your saliva drip down his shaft, and the vibrations flowing through his body from your soft hums to keep yourself from gagging makes him throw his head back in ecstasy, wanting to fuck your pretty little throat until it’s raw and hoarse.

He uses his large callous hands as a makeshift ponytail, tangling his hands in your hair before pushing you down further onto his cock, forcing your nose to touch his groin and the tip of his cock to your uvula, making a hiss spew from his mouth. "Fuck, that's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice filled with the wicked intent to press you to your limit and use you in any way he pleases.

Rafe's grip on your hair tightens as he guides your movements, his hips rolling forward slightly, matching the rhythm of your bobbing head. His cock twitches against your tongue, and the guttural groans spilling from his lips tell you just how much he's losing control. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust, his eyes locked on the way your lips stretch around him. "So fuckin' pretty like this. My perfect little maid, doin’ such a good job for me."

Your hands rest on his thighs for support as you take him deeper, your eyes watering but fixed upward to meet his intense gaze. He groans at the sight, his free hand brushing the tears that are flowing down your cheek with surprising tenderness, a sharp contrast to the way his other hand grips your hair.

"You like this, don't you?" he growls, his tone teetering between teasing and demanding. "Taking me so well, letting me use this pretty mouth. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, huh?"

You hum in response, the vibrations traveling through him and pulling another curse from his lips. "Shit," he hisses, his hips jerking forward instinctively. "I could do this all night. But you keep this up..." He trails off, his voice rough as his breathing grows heavier. "...and I'm not gonna last much longer."

Rafe pulls back slightly, letting you catch your breath before pressing you down again, his cock sliding deep into your throat. The lewd sound of your gagging only fuels him further, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you work, completely lost in the pleasure you're giving him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he groans, his voice low and gravelly. "Prove to me you're my good little maid. Show me just how well you can take care of me."

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[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 40: good luck

NOTE: another christmas gift hehe 💞 happy holidays everyone <3

PS. i love them (scarayn) your honor :((

You felt a little bad while wishing Kazuha his good lucks when you went with him to the stadium.

Half of the reason was because you felt traitorous wishing him good luck when later, he might find you on the opponent's bleachers. Half of it was because you knew your wishes of luck for you brother were half-hearted — because half of you hoped that your lover could win this time.

You let out a big sigh as you two walked towards his team, which caught Kazuha's attention.

"Why are you sighing like that? You're even more nervous than the one who'd actually play!" He joked, attempting to lighten up your mood.

"I'm not nervous!"

"You are."

"Am not!"

"Are."

You rolled your eyes, having long forgotten the conflict you were feeling just seconds prior. "I told you, I —"

"Captain! There you are!" Venti exclaimed as soon as you and your brother got close enough to them. "Oh, [Name], hi! Long time no see!"

You smiled and waved at them. The team reciprocated your gesture, but you noticed a particular dark green-haired man with golden eyes avoid your gaze.

"Xiao!" You called out. "Good luck!"

He stiffened. At the specific mention of his name, he had no choice but to turn to you. Venti tried to stifle a laugh, but his weird facial expression right now is a proof of his failure.

"You're so cruel," Xiao mumbled. Really, he was finally trying to move on from his suppressed feelings, and now you give him his own 'good luck'?

You are so cruel. And the worst part is that you don't even know.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." He managed to flash a small smile. "I said thank you."

"Oh, okay!"

You noticed Venti patting Xiao's back apologetically while still holding back a laugh before you turned away. You started observing your surroundings — Xiao swatting away Venti's hands, your brother occupied by his teammates...

Now was the perfect moment to sneak away.

Making sure you were not seen, you slowly distanced yourself from your own university's varsity team. You put on a white baseball cap, which goes perfectly with your boyfriend's jersey that you've kept perfectly hidden underneath your oversized red jacket.

'Ugh, the lengths I go to!' You complained. 'Why do they belong in different teams?'

If you had known your future boyfriend would be from University of Inazuma's football team, you would have done everything to convince your brother to accept the university's offer after he had passed their entrance examinations.

If he and Kuni were in the same team, would they be friends like your boyfriend is with Heizou and Aether?

Unfortunately, the halls in the stadium were not sufficient to accommodate your musings. Soon enough, you found yourself welcomed by navy blue cheering balloons and bleachers displaying waves of blue with occasional whites — a stark contrast to the abundance of maroon placards and shirts from where you originally came from.

Although being aware that you aren't as popular as your brother, you still feared the possibility of someone recognizing you. You made another effort to lower your cap more as you unzipped your jacket, letting your boyfriend's jersey be visible.

People kept giving you weird glances, perhaps due to your jacket being red despite being in the blue team's wing.

But you couldn't care less.

You wanted to also somehow show support for your brother, even in just small ways.

After faithfully referring to the ticket that Kuni had previously handed you, you soon found the section where you were supposed to be settled in.

A familiar long, braided purple hair demanded your attention right off the bat as you went through the VIP gate. Around her, several men clad in navy blue varsity jackets and a few already in their jerseys were huddled around.

You smiled, admiring how your boyfriend's brows were furrowed. Not in frustration, however. This time, it was in concentration.

As Coach Ei took her time giving her final reminders, you sneakily made your way into your seat, which you noticed was directly right behind a player's seat currently occupied by a very familiar sports bag.

You busied yourself with your phone, first texting your brother and then his friends one final 'good luck'. Your seemingly endless loop of scrolling through your feed then came to a stop as you heard some shuffling.

"Hey."

You looked up, only to see your boyfriend looming over with a grin, one knee kneeling on the seat right in front of you. His right arm resting on the seat's backrest, and the other on his thigh.

"Hey," you breathed.

"My jersey looks the best on you."

"I know," you jokingly replied.

"Don't we all know?" A certain maroon-head butted in. "He's been telling us that nonstop ever since he gave you one of his jerseys!"

"Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you," said the sunshine-haired boy. "I'm Aether, Scara's friend. Also a midfielder."

"Hi!"

Kuni's other friend grabbed your hands and shook them aggressively. "Hi [Name]! Nice to finally meet you! I'm Heizou, Scara's friend and a defender. Also the one your brother blocked because he thought I was your boyfriend!"

"What?" Kuni turned to look at you. "Your brother thinks that?"

You laughed. "He does."

A scowl was now plastered onto your lover's face. Heizou, also noticing this, shivered. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe, he should now start preparing for the repetitions his captain would make him do once they finish this game. Maybe, he should take what he said back and tell Scara that it was a lie, and that he was just joking.

"Uhm—"

"They're calling for the players now," Ei announced to the team. When her eyes spotted you, she gave a subtle smile and wave before getting back to work.

Heizou let out a sigh of relief as Aether laughed next to him, the two already heading out to the field.

You placed your attention back to your boyfriend who's still in front of you, still maintaining his position from earlier. His earlier grin was already replaced by a frown, though.

You lowered your cap again.

Scaramouche swore his heart dropped when you cupped his face using both of your hands, gently tugging him closer.

"Why is your face like that, hmm?"

"What? Handsome?" He feigned ignorance.

You smiled. "Well, yes. That's true. But you look annoyed."

"It's nothing."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

You took a quick glance towards his teammates. Seeing as most of them have already left for the field, you knew you had to settle this fast.

"Kuni." You called.

"What?"

You replied with nothing.

Nothing aside from closing the distance between the two of you — eyes closed, skin touching, lips intertwined; deep breaths the only thing audible upon parting.

"You—"

You put your index finger against his lips.

"Good luck!" You grinned.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[gurugirl]

Quiet Xmas Morning blurb | bfd!harry

⋆꙳•❅‧ ☃️‧❆ ₊⋆

Summary: Your heart is full and you have so much to be thankful for on Christmas.

A/n: I know it's not very long but there's a lot of new things in this one. If you haven't already, I'd suggest reading the previous part before you read this.

Word Count: 1,507

Warning: soft fluffy cuteness - no warnings!

best friend's dad!harry masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

The house was warm and quiet as you sat in the glider chair with your newborn in your arms. She was falling asleep slowly. She'd suckle and then her eyes would lull shut before she'd startle herself awake and start to pull at your nipple like a ravenous animal again. You smiled and smoothed your fingers over the soft hair on her head. It'd only been a week and a half since she was born but you already felt like she was your everything. It surprised you how deeply you already loved her.

Elara came a little early but you were ready for her. Harry said she wanted to make it in time for Christmas. She had to be monitored for a few extra days but she was healthy and she was perfect.

You saw the glow from the Christmas tree lights filtering into her room from downstairs and then heard a little rustling. Harry must have also been up. He was sleeping when you got up to feed the baby but he often would wake up when you'd get up. It was still something to get used to. You were more exhausted than you'd ever been in your life but maybe that explained why you were so deliriously in love with her.

Her suckling grew weak again, little eyes closed, and then… she was fast asleep. After waiting a few minutes, just in case, you carefully and gently got up from the chair and tiptoed to her crib to lower her down all without waking her.

She was perfect. Yes. That was true. But she was easy to wake and she'd cry for hours if she was woken up before she was ready.

Harry stood behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder as he looked down at your little creation with you. He knew better than to even whisper so you both just smiled at one another before quietly padding out of her room and closing the door behind you.

Your body was still sore. You knew it would take time to get back to feeling like yourself. Even walking downstairs felt like something was going to knock loose and fall out of your body. Harry held your hand.

"Merry Christmas, Mama," he kissed your lips softly when you got to the first floor.

The living room was dark except for the soft golden lights wrapped around the faux Christmas tree. You preferred a real one normally but it was too much work that year. Plus the smell bothered you when you and Harry had gone to check out the tree farm weeks earlier.

"Got your gift under the tree," he motioned.

You looked under the tree to see one small box with a bow. You hadn't wrapped any of Harry's and they were all tucked away, hidden in the closet in the basement.

"I didn't wrap yours. I'm sorry," you reached up to cup his face and he brought an arm around your back.

"You already gave me the best present I could ever ask for."

You grinned, "That I did. But you played a major role in that gift. So technically I could consider that a gift from you as well."

He grinned and pressed his lips to yours, "I'd say my role was very minor. All I had to do was get off a few times. You did all the hard work. All the stuff that counts."

A laugh puffed from your lips, "Okay. That I agree with."

You smelled coffee suddenly and realized Harry was making a pot.

"Decaf." He raised his brows at you. You were staying away from caffeine since you were breastfeeding. The doctor said you could have a little bit every day but Elara was fussy enough as it was. The last thing you wanted was a grouchy, angry baby hocked up on traces of caffeine.

"My mouth is watering," you spoke with a smile.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll get your coffee. Then we can open up your Christmas present."

Harry frothed a little milk for you while he took his coffee black. Even he was drinking decaf when he could have just had regular. He walked back into the living quietly, two steaming mugs in hand before handing you yours and sitting his down on the coffee table.

You took a sip as he reached under the tree to pull out the small red box. It had a small golden ribbon tied around it.

"What is it?" You held your palm out as he placed the box down into your hand.

"Well, you have to open it up first."

Taking another quick sip of your coffee before you leaned forward to place the ceramic mug down you looked at Harry with a big grin. The glittering lights from the tree were twinkling off his eyes as he looked down at the box and then up at your face.

You pulled at the ribbon and then paused when he sat up, about to push himself off the cushion, "What are you doing?"

He swallowed and you noticed that he suddenly seemed nervous, anxious. He shook his head and shrugged, "Nothing. Was just getting comfortable is all."

You squinted at him as he looked down at your hand. Then it was your turn for the nerves to take over. You couldn't be sure what was in the box but something told you that it was going to change everything. You knew Harry very well and his sudden excitement had your heart pounding in your chest. And given the size of the box…

"Harry…" you blinked your eyes and placed your hand over the lid as you swallowed.

"Just open it, baby. See what it is." He was still sitting at the edge of the cushion, watching you as you pulled the lid off. Inside was another, smaller box—a jewelry box.

You inhaled and looked up at him. He wore a soft smile on his face as he tensed his arms, like he was about to spring from the couch.

The moment you placed your fingers on the velvet-hinged top to lift it, he pushed himself onto his knees and scooted in between your thighs as the beautiful little shining diamond glinted from inside the box. A ring. But not just any ring.

He waited for a beat, his eyes on yours as your jaw dropped and you covered your mouth before looking at him in surprise.

Harry took the ring out of the box and held it between his thumb and pointer finger, "I love you. I want forever with you, Y/n. I know we're not in a rush but I couldn't wait another moment to put a ring on your finger. Tell the whole world you're mine."

You gasped out a quiet sob and just as he was about to continue you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him hard. You never imagined that you'd cry when he finally proposed but of course, your hormones were all out of whack and you'd been finding yourself crying for the smallest things lately.

He laughed when you pecked kisses over his cheek, "Yes, Harry…"

"Baby, I didn't even finish th—"

You smushed your lips over his again, swallowing his words as he pulled you into his arms until you were in his lap on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

"I love you, Harry…" You smeared your lips down to his jaw and he chuckled quietly.

"Gonna put it on?"

Pulling away from him, you looked down at his hand and spread your fingers out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It was dainty and perfect—one small diamond at the top, set in white gold. You held your hand up, and you admired the way it looked on your hand for a moment.

Harry wrapped his big palm around yours and pulled your hand up to his mouth, "That's a yes? You'll marry me?"

You sputtered a laugh and nodded, "Of course I will."

He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you before you pulled your hand away and wrapped your arms around his neck to squeeze him tight. Harry tucked his face into your hair and put his arms around your back.

It was going to be the best Christmas day ever. Fae would be coming by for a couple of hours and then your parents later in the evening. Telling everyone you were finally engaged would be exciting but the best part was that you and Harry had the most precious gift lying upstairs sleeping already.

You placed your hand over his chest and ran your nose against his, "I'm so happy, Harry. I love you so much."

He shifted his legs and ran a big palm up your back, "That's all I want, for you to be happy, Y/n."

Harry got exactly what he wanted because you'd never been as happy as you were in that moment.

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[goldsainz]

# MV33 — DE WARMTE VAN KERSTMIS !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ as christmas gift you give max the greatest news of all time.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ talks about pregnancy.

003. NOTE !

✯ last part of the christmas sries! i hope that you all had a wonderful christmas if you celebrate and if not that yiu had a lovely holiday season.

word count : 2,1k

The cabin was exactly what you had pictured when Max had suggested spending Christmas in the countryside—a perfect blend of rustic charm and homely warmth. The logs that made up its walls bore the weathered marks of many winters, and the large windows offered a picturesque view of the snow-covered landscape outside. Fluffy white flakes clung to the branches of towering evergreens, and a small wooden fence encircled the property, dusted in a glittering layer of snow that shimmered in the moonlight.

Inside, the warmth from the crackling fireplace wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, and soft candlelight flickered against the wooden beams above, casting gentle shadows that danced in the cozy room. The scent of traditional Dutch dishes such as the rich, hearty erwtensoep and the faint sweetness of freshly baked kerststol—wafted through the air, blending perfectly with the woodsy aroma of the fire. The table was set simply but beautifully, with rustic wooden plates and a centerpiece of evergreen sprigs and bright red berries.

As you and Max sat down to dinner, the quietness of the setting seemed to work its magic on him. His usually intense features, so accustomed to the pressures of his fast-paced life, softened under the golden glow of the firelight. His broad shoulders, so often tense from the weight of expectations, appeared to relax as he leaned back slightly in his chair.

“Is this what Christmas feels like for you?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence as you picked at a piece of the kerststol on your plate.

Max paused, glancing toward the fire as if gathering his thoughts. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a subtle but genuine expression that made your chest feel a little warmer. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low but certain. “Just simple. No noise, no chaos. Just... calm.”

He reached for his glass, taking a sip of the wine you had brought along, and you couldn’t help but study his face in the firelight. There was something unguarded about him in this moment, something rare and precious. It wasn’t often that he let himself slow down enough to simply be. Here, in this cabin away from the spotlight, you saw a version of Max that felt like a secret, shared only with you.

“You like that, don’t you?” you teased softly, a playful smile on your lips. “The calm.”

He gave a small shrug, though his smile lingered. “I don’t get it often,” he admitted, his tone carrying a weight of honesty that made your heart ache a little. “But, yeah. I like it.”

After dinner, you both settled by the fire, the flames casting a golden light over the room. Max handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate, his fingers lingering against yours for a moment. You couldn’t help but notice how his usual seriousness seemed to melt away in this setting. He leaned back, one arm resting along the couch behind you, the other cradling his own mug.

As you chatted about everything from childhood Christmases to his latest racing season, you couldn’t help but marvel at how different Max seemed tonight. There was a quiet ease about him, a softness that emerged only when the weight of his fast-paced world was left behind. His laughter came more freely, a warm, low sound that resonated in the cozy space. His blue eyes glimmered with a rare kind of light, a mix of amusement and contentment that made your heart swell.

“You’re different tonight,” you teased, leaning into his side and nudging him gently.

“Different how?” he asked, one eyebrow arching slightly as he turned his head to look at you.

“Less grumpy,” you said with a cheeky grin.

That earned you a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. “Don’t get used to it,” he shot back, though the humor in his voice betrayed the truth—he liked this, too.

The fire crackled softly in the background, the warmth of it wrapping around both of you like a blanket. It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this perfect little bubble. You could feel your heart beating a little faster, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you as you thought about what you’d been holding onto all evening.

The moment felt perfect, and you decided it was time. Taking a steadying breath, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. The sight of it in your hands caught Max’s attention, and his gaze shifted from your face to the gift with a spark of curiosity.

“For you,” you said softly, holding it out to him.

He hesitated for a moment, his brows knitting together in mild confusion, before he reached out to take it. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice a little wary but touched with genuine interest.

“You’ll see,” you replied, your heart thudding against your ribs as he began unwrapping the gift with careful fingers.

The paper fell away, revealing a small, folded baby shirt in soft white cotton. Across the front, in delicate letters, were the words: Future Verstappen Racer.

Max froze, his hands still holding the shirt as he stared at it. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—shock, realization, and something deep and unspoken that made his expression soften. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at the tiny shirt as though trying to fully grasp what it meant.

“You’re going to be a dad,” you whispered, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered slightly, the weight of the moment catching up to you.

Max finally looked up at you, his face still a mixture of awe and tenderness. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. His fingers brushed over the fabric of the shirt as though it were the most fragile thing in the world.

A small, almost shy smile began to form on his lips. Setting the shirt gently on the table beside him, Max reached for your hands, pulling you closer. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles as he met your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You’ve just given me the best Christmas I could have ever imagined,” he murmured.

His hands moved to your face, cradling it gently as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was soft yet filled with the weight of everything he was feeling. The warmth of the fire seemed to pale in comparison to the warmth between the two of you in that moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own. Max stayed close, his eyes searching yours as though trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The firelight cast a soft glow across his face, accentuating the tenderness in his expression. Slowly, he reached out to set the baby shirt down carefully on the table beside him, handling it with the same reverence one might give a priceless treasure.

His hands found yours again, his fingers threading through yours as he looked at you with a rare vulnerability that made your heart ache. “I know I’m not good with words,” he began, his voice steady but soft, each syllable laced with sincerity. “But I wanted to give you something that reminds me of you. Something to show you how much you mean to me.”

You watched as he reached into his pocket, your curiosity piqued by the small object he pulled out. He opened his hand to reveal a delicate silver pendant, shaped like a racing helmet. Its surface gleamed in the firelight, and as he turned it slightly, you noticed the engraving on its side—the date you first met.

“I had it made for you,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He placed the pendant in your hand, his fingers lingering against your palm. “So you always know you’re with me, no matter where I go. No matter how far.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared down at the charm. The simplicity of it, paired with the thoughtfulness behind the gesture, struck a chord deep within you. It wasn’t just a gift; it was a piece of him, a reminder of the bond you shared and the love that had brought you both to this moment.

“You’re incredible,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

Max smiled—a small, soft smile that lit up his entire face. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that spoke of promises, love, and the unshakable connection between you. The warmth of the fire seemed to pale in comparison to the heat of his kiss, the way it melted away every worry and left only the two of you in the cocoon of the cabin.

When the kiss ended, Max rested his forehead against yours again, his hands cupping your face as though he never wanted to let go. His thumb brushed away a stray tear on your cheek, and he let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe how perfect this moment was.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “For this. For... everything. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy.”

You smiled through your tears, leaning into his touch. “You make me happy too, Max. More than I can put into words.”

As the fire crackled softly, wrapping the room in its golden glow, you and Max stayed close, lost in the intimacy of the moment. His hands remained on your face, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks, as though he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Outside, the snow fell steadily, blanketing the world in a serene hush, but inside, the warmth was almost tangible. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sound that felt as comforting as the cozy cabin around you. Max’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion, “this is all I’ve ever wanted. A quiet moment like this, with you, where nothing else matters.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you tilted your head to look up at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted too.”

Max’s eyes softened, his gaze filled with a depth of emotion that left you breathless. “I used to think Christmas didn’t mean much,” he admitted. “It was just another day, really. But now, with you, it’s different. It feels... special.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “That’s because you are special, Max. To me, to us.” Your other hand moved instinctively to your belly, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

He placed his hand gently over yours, his thumb brushing over your fingers in a way that made your heart swell. “I’m going to do everything I can to be a good dad,” he said quietly, his tone full of determination. “And an even better partner to you.”

You leaned up to kiss him again, your lips meeting his in a tender, lingering embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the fire, the love in his eyes, and the quiet promise of the life you were building together.

Eventually, you both settled back on the couch, your legs tangled together as you curled up beneath a thick, knit blanket. The baby shirt and silver pendant sat on the table nearby, tiny symbols of the future you were so excited to share.

Max’s hand found yours once more, his fingers threading through yours as he held you close. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

“Merry Christmas, Max,” you replied, your voice filled with love.

The cabin grew quieter as the fire began to die down, leaving the room bathed in a soft, amber glow. Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a peaceful silence. And in that moment, nestled together in the warmth of each other’s arms, you knew you’d never felt more at home.

[miniseokminnies]

the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own. 

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him. 

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?” 

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time. 

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again. 

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh. 

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table. 

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch” 

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.  

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before? 

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation.  After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table. 

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.  

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate. 

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to.  You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.  

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing.  Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.  

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe.  He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.  

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook.  You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.  

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him.  He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time.  Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.  

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”      

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?” 

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses, 

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”  

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.” 

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed. 

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you.  You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway” 

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side.  Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings.  For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.  

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school.  When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.  

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.  

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board. 

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan.  The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.  

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you.  You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping. 

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.” 

“What?” you blinked up at him.  He bent down to get closer to your face, 

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation” 

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.  

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.  

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you, 

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him.  Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.  

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.  

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table.  He easily took your hand and shook it.  

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.    

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching.  With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly.  This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.  

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves.  If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated. 

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate.  He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean.  Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.    

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board.  You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.  

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won” 

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.  

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!” 

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him, 

“Really?” 

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face.  He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.  

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance.  Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.  

“What?” you spat defensively.  

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”.  Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his.  He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.  

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly.  The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns.  You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book.  By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.  

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did.  Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves. 

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice.  Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open.  Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.  

“Checkmate” you declared.  Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes.  You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.  

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him.  Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes. 

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips.  With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind.  His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.  

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten.  Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him.  He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim.  He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain.  He tangled his hands in your hair.    

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed.  When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.  

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”           

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat.  There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.  

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.  

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty.  There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.  

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”  

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party.  You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear.  You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.  

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand.  Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly.  You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together.  The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly.  “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass.  He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat.  During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.  

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people.  You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed.  On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room.  You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across. 

 You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child.  You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.  

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up.  Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room.  He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers.  Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you.  Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer.  He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.  

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan.  He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.  

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,”  he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there.  Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.” 

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.  

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night” 

“No” 

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in.  You held strong.  Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass.  He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot. 

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches, 

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly, 

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer.  If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.  

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson” 

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?” 

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own.  You thought for a moment, 

“Why do you play chess?” you asked. 

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me.  I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.” 

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round.  You both drank the shot with no complaint.  

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them.  Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain.  Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.  

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.   

“January 2” 

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?” 

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving.  Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you.  His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.  

“Are you drunk?” he asked 

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him. 

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment.  After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours.  The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it.  He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance.  Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him.  Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth.  Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time.  Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.  

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach.  The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching. 

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours.  He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?”  You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor.  You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip.  He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.  

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady” 

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.”  You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”    

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin.  Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him.  Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room.  He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night.  Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed.  On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up.  He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him.  You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.  

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.  

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer.  He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach.  He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.  

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises.  He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts.  The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before.  You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.  

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra.  He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge.  He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head.  Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.  

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave.  Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.  

“Goodnight, Y/N”      

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.    

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust. 

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some” 

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet.  His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you.  “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

All you could do was nod.  

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ‘em spread” he commanded.  His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear.  He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious.  He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.         

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction.  This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips.  “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.       

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers.  Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly.  The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.  

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you.  His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease.  You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.  

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now.  He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.  

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high.  Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater.  Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.  

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.  

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips.  What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading.  You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark.  He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.  

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you.  Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed.  Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board. 

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you.  “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone.  However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too. 

His timer clicked, he made his first move.  Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his.  You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening.  Your timer clicked.  Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time.  He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.  

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants.  You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense.  You let him have some meaningless captures.  

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident.  You captured his bishop.  You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves.  You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer.  You looked at him from under your lashes and waited. 

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point.  His hesitancy was evident, 

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering.  He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.” 

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board.  Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays.  The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards.  Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.  

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door.  You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.     

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.  He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra. 

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?”  he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering, 

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?” 

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed.  Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting.  Almost as if he belonged here in a way.  “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you.  He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.       

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.  

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night. 

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.”  He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him.  You watched as he moved the rook into position, 

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly, 

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response.  Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while.  His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites. 

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish.  “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for” 

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours.  What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone.  Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused.  He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about. 

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest.  You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers.  He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers.  His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.  

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips.  Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters, 

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response.  He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?” 

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt.  He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore.  You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue.  In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.  

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling.  He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly.  Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation. 

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck.  Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you.  Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside.  You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit.  Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth.  He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.  

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way.  You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt.  He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin.  He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes.  You readjusted on the bed.  He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry.  The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.  

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”  

“I want to,” you whispered.  He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours.  He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance.  You took a deep breath.  

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious.  He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.  

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance.  The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers.  He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you.  He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.  

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly.  He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips.  It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls.  The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.  

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan.  “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.” 

He doesn’t.  Neither do you.  He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely.  What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent.  He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right.  Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.  

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.  

“You okay, Dove?” 

“I’m fab,” you breathed.  Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you.  He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.  

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels.  He returned with one and helped clean you up.  He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed.  He ran his hands through his hair.  

When you came back you laid back down together.  You draped your legs over his.  The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours.  You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.  

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe.  Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence.  Cute, Jeonghan thought.  He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.  

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket.  Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed.  With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.    

               

   

 “Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you.  You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?” 

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.  

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking.  You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?” 

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?” 

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid” 

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking  about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building.  Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?” 

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.” 

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?” 

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”     

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.       

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you.  He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?” 

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.  

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.    

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy.  He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.  

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man. 

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.    

“She has you sewing,”  Mingyu stifled a laugh.  

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,”  Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”  Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.  

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.   

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.  

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.  

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle.  Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at.  Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life.  So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.  

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place.  He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind.  If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.    

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.  

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan 

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao 

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team.  You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money.  Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you  He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.  

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao.  Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board.  Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.  

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”  

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring.  He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.  

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt.  He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it.  You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.  

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head.  Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”.  A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible.  Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans.  He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.  

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.  

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.  

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”  

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about.  He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric.  “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him.  You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was.  The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago.  A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger.  You chose anger.  

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.  

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on.  He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.  

“You still stole from me!” 

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!” 

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you.  For once he was at a loss for words.        

You’re in over your head, you have to be.  You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life.  The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.  

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers.  You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs.  Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror.  You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.  

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath.  Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.  

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well.  Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly. 

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.  

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.”  You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor.  He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers.  You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you.  Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.  

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day.  You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you.  He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved.  Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document.  You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head.  His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.  

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it.  He followed after you silently.  Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.  

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him.  Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today.  This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned.  To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.  

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side.  Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand.  His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you.  Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.  The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.  

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move.  He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice.  You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit.  The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times.  Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.  

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room.  He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time.  Freshly 19 and on top of the world.  He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win.  He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself.  Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care.  He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively.  He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze. 

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board.  He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected.  Jeonghan moved his knight.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button.  The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces.  He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning.  He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon.  He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn.  His timer clicked.  No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.  

“Checkmate.” 

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table.  It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion.  They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals.  If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there.  You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.  

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent.  Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match.  He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end.  He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.  

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus.  While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win.  This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation.  He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life.  So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.  

You beat Minghao again right before lunch.  Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise.  Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face.  The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up.  Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner. 

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.  

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.  

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.  

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you.  Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing.  He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.  

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you.  “A girl at this competition is asinine.” 

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.”  You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down.  The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.  

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.”  You could punch him, him and his smug face.  You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.  

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss.  You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.  

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand.  He walked away without taking it.  You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.  

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.  

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.” 

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?” 

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.  

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.  

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.        

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.” 

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.  

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended.  The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits.  Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.  

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.  

“Check.” 

The man moved his king one space to the left.  This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.  

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand.  He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet.  He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened.  He caught sight of your concentrated face.  He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.  

You won, of course you won.  

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.  

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you.  “Semi finals is this round?” 

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table.  Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.  

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders.  He was smiling.  

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.  

“We’re paired for the semi finals” 

“I am aware,” you smirked.  Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.  

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.  

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.  

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on” 

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table.  He was trying, and failing, to keep cool.  On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand.  The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.  

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener.  Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe.  He had no idea how to handle this.  You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out.  He might know your game well, but you knew him.  He was absolutely out of his depth.  

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table.  People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.  

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him.  That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily.  He settles for capturing your first bishop.  You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it.  You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.  

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you.  The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you.  After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.   

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly.  The crowd was silent as you watched him go.  Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team.  No one knew what to say.  You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.  

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.  

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs.  “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.   

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.  

“What if I lose?” 

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs.  You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing.  Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo.  Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.   

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat.  The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously.  It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.  

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away.  The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan.  He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case.  However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?  

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew.  He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use.  If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.  

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak, 

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.  

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled.  “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.” 

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.”  You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began.  Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started.  He was smiling widely.  The officials prevented you from leaving your table.  They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.  

“Smile,” he mouthed to you.  Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters.  Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window.  He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.  

“You came,” you called to him as you approached.  His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.  

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.  

“Finally, you see it!” 

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you.  He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.  

[renku]

Princess

「 Scenario smut - Yeseo x Male Reader 」

A/N: This is just pure BFH. Yeseo is just... yeah, many of you know it.

So no proofreading and edits at all. The other fic is still ongoing by the way. Happy Holidays to all!

~~~

It was a warm heat; a pair of thick flesh residing on your own, eyes glued to yours while Yeseo removes her cashmere crop top. A sight to behold—her silky hair dragged up by the motion. Perky, aroused tits reaching its perfect state. Oh, oh, she knows you want ‘em but she doesn't how you crave for those buds. Lastly, her intoxicating scent mixing into bloodstream, flowing at the right places. You can’t wait, but you have to. Being needy would be the last thing you’d show to this princess.

“Fuck, you’re making me crazy, princess,” you remarked, almost whispering the words with your face just centimeters away from her.

She smiled. Just smiled. As if she knew, and she does. Yeseo knows how to be minimalistic—low effort but extraordinary results. “And here too,” she replied, unzipping your pants to release her favorite toy from its constraints.

“Did this ‘good boy’ missed me?” she asked, an unnecessary question that somehow displayed her power over you.

“Why don’t you sit on it to know the answer, princess?” you responded, making sure she won’t have her way. Yeseo’s too dangerous. Especially when she’s fired up. And right now, the fire within her burns with such intensity that you’d never dare to put out. Only she can do it, by satisfying her wants.

“Don’t move an inch. Let me do it my way. Your princess’ way.”

Yeseo reached beneath her skirt, undoubtedly pushing her panties to the side to reveal her awaiting wet and dripping pussy. She grabs your already raging shaft and aligns it with her sweet entrance.

With a slow and steady movement, Yeseo patiently drops herself with your cock. Eating those inches with her warm and slick walls.

“Fuck...,” you grunted, shutting your eyes as you almost lift your head up to conceal the pleasure rapidly consuming your entire body.

“So big... so warm... all for me,” Yeseo noted in full ecstasy. She reached for your lips with hers to initiate a quick make out with her tongue invading yours in an instant.

In doing so, that sinful body of hers starts to grind on that small couch you have. Muffled moans became a series of vibrations in your mouth. Your hands can’t stay idle. They wander all over her upper torso, all those nerves in your fingertips doing its job to feel her soft and delicate skin.

Yeseo breaks the kiss. “Oh, oh- ah, yes! Ah, fuck! So deep!”

“Moan for me, princess. Tell me how you feel good by riding my dick. Let me hear it.”

“Yours is the best! Ah- I- I can’t stop! Make me cum with your huge cock! Oh, God!”

“So- so tight! Damn it!”

Her pace continues to rise with each second passing. She’s not like this before. Maybe Yeseo’s getting used to it. Should you be glad? Don’t know for sure. But the build up inside your groin can’t be ignored. Her tightness also is killing you. She’s close, too.

“Cumming for me, princess?”

“Ye- yes! Just a bit more! Fuck! I’m close!”

“Good, cum with that slutty pussy of yours. Take all my cum!” you exclaimed.

“Breed me! Please, claim my pussy! Claim it till it's full of cum!”

You didn’t move a bit the entire time. All of the work was from Yeseo. She wanted it. You just want her to experience things. Explore. Figure what works for her and what isn’t. She insisted to all of this. It’s a fact that makes you less guilty and not to think about it too much. You had a good time and the same goes for her. And that time tonight is about to reach its conclusion—pleasurable conclusion.

“Yeseo, I’m cumming!”

“Me too, I’m cumming! Don't hold back!”

“It’s coming! Ah!”

There it is, the climax. Ropes and ropes of semen filled Yeseo’s walls. Her walls convulses as she reached the promised land but also making sure not a drop of cum will escape from her cunt.

The highs from the sex slowly declines, and both of you came back to your senses.

“Amazing.”

Catching her breatg and drenched in sweat, Yeseo happily responded biting her lower lip, “Yeah, you’re the fucking best.”

[greengoblinswifey]

A Christmas To Remember—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— Nicholas is away filming and tells you he’s flying to his family for Christmas, leaving you alone. But when you’re on the phone, crying over spending the holiday by yourself, he shows up at your door at midnight, determined to make this Christmas one to remember.

warnings— slight angst, crying, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, fluff, perfect christmas ending <3

a/n— lmk if you guys want to be on my nicholas tag list cuz I just tagged people I thought would be on it!!

It was Christmas Eve, and the air was colder than usual, both outside and in your heart. The phone was pressed to your ear as you sat curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the Christmas lights doing little to comfort you. Nicholas’ voice came through the line, warm but distant, just like he was.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said gently, regret in his tone. “I’ve never spent Christmas away from my family before. It wouldn’t feel right not seeing them.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I get it, Nick. I really do.”

But you didn’t. Not entirely. You understood his love for his family, but this was supposed to be your first Christmas together. You’d envisioned mornings spent in pajamas, unwrapping presents under the tree, and nights filled with laughter and love. Instead, he was across the country, and you were alone.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he added, his voice hopeful.

Your voice cracked as you replied, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Just- just have a good time with your family.”

Nicholas sighed. “I love you. You know that, right?”

You closed your eyes, tears spilling over. “I know. I love you too.”

The call ended, and the silence in the house became unbearable. You tried to hold it together, but the loneliness hit you like a wave. You buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly. Your family was out of state, and it was too late to book a trip to see them. This was supposed to be a joyful holiday, but instead, you felt completely alone.

Hours passed, and midnight came. It was officially Christmas, but the weight in your chest didn’t lift. You wiped your face, deciding to head to bed when a knock at the door startled you.

You froze, your heart racing. Who could possibly be here at this hour? Another knock came, louder this time. You slowly approached the door, hesitating before unlocking it.

When you opened it, your breath hitched. Standing there, suitcase in hand and snow dusting his coat, was Nicholas.

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” he said softly, his lips curving into a sheepish smile.

“Nicholas?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “What—what are you doing here? I thought you were—”

He stepped inside, setting his suitcase down and wrapping you in his arms before you could finish. The cold from his coat bit at your skin, but his embrace was warm and safe. “I couldn’t leave you alone,” he murmured against your hair. “I thought I could, but the moment I hung up the phone, I knew I made a mistake. I caught the last flight out.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. You pulled back slightly, your hands clutching the front of his coat. “You’re really here?”

“I’m really here,” he said, his hands coming up to cup your face. “I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone. You’re my family now too.”

A sob escaped you as you threw your arms around his neck. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

He chuckled softly, brushing your hair back as he looked into your eyes. “I think I do.” Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to your lips, slow and tender, filled with all the love he couldn’t express over the phone.

You pulled back, laughter breaking through your tears. “Your mom is going to kill you.”

“She’ll get over it,” he teased, kicking the door shut behind him and shrugging off his coat. “Right now, this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Taking your hand, he led you to the couch, pulling the blanket over both of you as he nestled close. “Come on,” he said with a soft smile. “Let’s do Christmas the right way—together.”

The two of you sat there, wrapped up in each other as the Christmas lights blinked softly around the room. The ache in your heart faded, replaced by a warmth you hadn’t felt all night.

Nicholas glanced at you, his hand lacing with yours. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, leaning into him. For the first time all night, everything felt perfect.

Nicholas adjusted the blanket around both of you as the two of you nestled closer together on the couch. The twinkling lights on the tree reflected in his warm brown eyes, and his hand found yours, holding it tightly.

“You’re really here,” you murmured again, still trying to process it.

“I’m here,” he whispered, brushing his lips softly against your temple. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he added, his voice low but full of admiration.

“Nick,” you said as your breath caught.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss, like he was savoring the moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured. “I can’t believe I almost spent Christmas without you.”

Tears stung your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of happiness. “You’re going to make me cry again,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Then I guess I’m doing something right.”

The kiss deepened slowly, his hands gently finding your waist as he pulled you closer. You didn’t stop him, feeling the heat of his touch and the love in every movement. The weight of loneliness and the ache of missing him melted away entirely, replaced by warmth.

Nicholas pulled back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours. “You okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern and love.

You nodded, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “More than okay.”

He smiled, leaning back against the couch and guiding you to rest against him. His arms wrapped around you protectively, and for a while, you simply lay there, enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s presence.

“Can we stay like this forever?” you whispered, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“I’ll stay here as long as you want me to,” he promised, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But—” He paused, his voice dipping into a playful tone. “Maybe we should make this Christmas a little more special.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, his hands sliding to your hips as he lifted you slightly, adjusting your position so you were straddling his lap. His gaze softened, full of adoration. “This is your chance to tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he said quietly, his thumbs brushing small circles on your sides.

Your cheeks flushed, and you buried your face in his neck, suddenly shy. He chuckled, tilting your chin up gently with his fingers.

“Hey,” he whispered, his tone serious but tender. “Look at me.”

You hesitated, then met his gaze, your heart racing.

“Tell me what you want,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I need to hear you say it.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finally said, “I want this.”

His eyes darkened slightly, but his smile widened. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

He stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Let’s take this upstairs,” he murmured, kissing your forehead as he carried you to the bedroom.

He set you down gently on the bed, your legs still loosely wrapped around his waist, and pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, his hands steady on your hips.

You nodded, your heart racing as your fingers slid into his soft hair. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He smiled, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “Then let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

He eased you out of your bottoms before he kicked off his, the heat from both your bodies creating a warm, intimate moment. You bit your lip in anticipation as he stroked his hard cock, spreading the pre cum that oozed from the tip. He dragged it along your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it as your pussy quivered.

“No teasing Nick,” you whined, “I need you right now, I’ve missed you so much.”

He smiled and put your legs over his shoulders, lining up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Ready baby?” he asked and you nodded in response.

Slowly, he eased into you, his cock already making you feel full and he was barely in. You groped your boobs, lost in pleasure as his cock bucked inside you and he finally began rutting into your pussy, steadily.

“There we go, you’re taking me so well, princess,” he whispered, kissing your foot on his shoulder.

Your back arched from the bed as the head of his thick cock slammed against your g spot and making your toes curl.

“You’re so beautiful like this, taking it so well, baby,” he said.

He increased his pace, bringing down your feet to wrap around his waist. He leaned down, kissing you all over your face as your body jolted upwards from the new intensity of his pace. Nicholas took his time, making sure you felt cherished in every moment. He praised you endlessly, calling you beautiful, perfect, and everything he’d ever wanted. The intimacy wasn’t just physical, it was a deep emotional connection that solidified just how much you meant to each other.

“Oh my God, baby, I need you to cum with me, please,” he gasped as he felt your pussy clamp around him.

You nodded frantically, wrapping your arms around him as an intense orgasm took ahold of you, causing your entire body to shake. You felt him fill you up at the same time, his warm cum making your pussy flutter and throb.

“Good girl, that’s my beautiful girl,” he cooed, pressing kisses all over your face.

By the time you finished and he had cleaned you up, you both lay tangled in the sheets, your head on his chest, his arm around your waist and nothing but love surrounding you. Nicholas kissed the top of your head, his voice soft as he said, “Merry Christmas again, baby.”

You smiled sleepily, tracing circles on his chest. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You woke to the smell of hot chocolate and the faint sound of Christmas music coming from the living room. For a moment, you stayed under the covers, savoring the warmth of the bed and the realization that Nicholas was really here.

Curiosity got the better of you, though, and you slipped on one of his oversized sweaters and padded into the kitchen. There he was, standing at the stove in plaid pajama pants, humming along to Last Christmas. His messy hair and focused expression made you smile.

“You’re cooking?” you asked, leaning against the doorway.

Nicholas turned, grinning when he saw you. “Good morning, beautiful. And yes, I am. Don’t look so surprised.”

You laughed, crossing the room to peek over his shoulder. “You making pancakes?”

“Attempting to,” he admitted, flipping one with surprising skill. “It’s not going to win any awards, but I figured you deserve breakfast in bed.”

“You’re already winning awards for effort,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

He turned his head to kiss your forehead. “Sit down. Let me take care of you for once.”

You sat at the table in the corner of the kitchen, watching him plate a surprisingly fluffy stack of pancakes. He set them in front of you, along with hot chocolate and syrup, looking far too proud of himself.

“Taste test,” he said, sitting down across from you. “Be honest.”

You took a bite and smiled. “Nicholas Chavez, you’ve officially passed the boyfriend breakfast challenge.”

He smirked, reaching out to steal a piece. “Told you I could pull it off.”

After breakfast, the two of you settled by the Christmas tree you’d put up weeks ago. Nicholas sat on the floor, his legs stretched out, while you curled up on the couch, your hands wrapped around your mug.

“Okay, gifts time,” he announced, pulling a small box from behind his back. “This one’s for you.”

You eyed the neatly wrapped package, already touched by the care he’d put into it. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Nicholas. You being here is already the best gift.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m not letting you win this argument. Just open it.”

You unwrapped the box slowly, your breath catching when you saw the delicate gold bracelet inside. The charm dangling from it was small but meaningful—a tiny, intricate star.

“Nicholas,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over the charm. “It’s beautiful.”

“I saw it while I was filming,” he explained, his voice soft. “It reminded me of you. A little star, shining brighter than everything else around it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you let him fasten it around your wrist. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Okay, next one,” he said, pulling out a larger box.

Your brows shot up. “There’s more?”

“Of course,” he replied.

Inside the box was a gorgeous, plush blanket in your favorite color, embroidered with your initials in gold thread. “For all those nights when I can’t be here to keep you warm,” he said, watching your reaction.

You couldn’t stop smiling. “This is perfect.”

“And one more,” he said, sliding a smaller package over.

You unwrapped it carefully, revealing a hardcover book with a handwritten title on the front, Our Story. You opened it to find pages filled with photographs of the two of you, ticket stubs from your first date, and little notes he’d written about the moments you’d shared.

“You made this?” you asked, tears threatening to spill over again.

Nicholas nodded. “I wanted you to have something to remind you of how special you are to me. Every page is another reason I love you.”

You threw your arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re incredible.”

“Well, don’t cry just yet,” he teased, brushing a tear from your cheek.

You reached behind the tree for the stack of gifts you’d carefully wrapped. “Okay, this first,” you said, handing him a small box.

He opened it to reveal a sleek black watch. “Wow,” he murmured, running his fingers over the face. “This is beautiful.”

“I noticed your old one was scratched up,” you said. “I thought you could use an upgrade.”

Nicholas leaned over to kiss you. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Wait, there’s more,” you said, grinning.

Next, you handed him a framed photo of the two of you from your first trip together, laughing and holding hands. “I figured you could take this with you when you travel,” you explained.

“This is perfect,” he said, his voice soft.

Finally, you pulled out a handmade scarf in his favorite color. “I knitted this,” you admitted shyly. “It’s not perfect, but I—”

He cut you off with another kiss. “It’s perfect because you made it. I’m wearing it everywhere.”

You spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch together, watching Christmas movies and sharing the cookies you’d baked. At one point, Nicholas pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he buried his face in your neck.

“I don’t ever want to spend Christmas apart from you again,” he said, his voice muffled.

You turned to look at him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You promise?”

He nodded, his gaze earnest. “I promise. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

Later that evening, the two of you bundled up and went for a walk through the snow-covered streets. The Christmas lights strung along the houses sparkled like tiny stars, and Nicholas held your hand the entire time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

When you stopped under a particularly festive display, he turned to you, his expression soft. “Thank you for making this Christmas perfect,” he said.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He shook his head. “You’re wrong. You’re the reason it’s perfect.”

As he leaned down to kiss you, snow began to fall, blanketing the world around you in quiet magic. It was a Christmas you’d never forget.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69

[kurokawaia]

DAY TWENTY THREE - BABY TRAPPING 彡 Aizen Sosuke

WARNINGS :: x fem reader, afab, yandere, coercion, manipulation, baby trapping, no protection, missionary, fingering, cervix kissing, NC cumming inside, + more

| WC :: 2.8k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You knew about Aizen, what he wanted to achieve-you were the only person he had told apart from three others. You were going to go ahead and help him make this dream a reality. To be in the company of Aizen was to be with a God-the level of control he had, it scared you, couldn't tell if you felt safe too. He's always there to protect you, keeps you hidden away so you can't get hurt. Still, something has always been a bit off about him; you noticed it, how his eyes would follow your every move, every breath. It started innocently enough with Aizen as a perfect gentleman, never forcing and yet giving you just enough space to feel independent. Subtle changes began to happen over time. "Are you going out again?" Aizen's voice came out soft, he is masking his disapproval, he's waiting for the right moment to force you to stay with him. You lifted your gaze from the mirror in front of you and finished styling out your hair. "Just for a little while. Soon I will be back." His eyes stayed on you a moment, his smile false as he stared at you. "I worry about you," he said, moving in behind you and setting his hands on your shoulders before trailing off down to your hands. "The world is a dangerous place, and I'm not always going to be here to protect you. You're only a healer, you can't do much, my love." Comforting, even, his words were sweet. You think. A lump, tense feeling began to grow in your stomach but you laughed it off, brushing his hands with a soft touch. "I'll be fine, Sosuke! I can take care of myself." But the seed had been sown. Over weeks, he came further into your life, and what you used to decide for yourself would, it seemed henceforth, have first to pass through him. And he keeps reminding you so often with a soft chuckle that he wants nothing but the best for you. "You know, you need to take more rest," Aizen said to you one night while doing reports. He leaned over you with his hand tucked in the back of your nemaki, drawing circles, almost to sooth you. "All this stress isn't good for your health." You faltered, words caught in your throat. "I need to finish this." "You don't," he returned smoothly. His fingers closed over your shoulder, tightening just a fraction. "What you need is to unwind. I don't like seeing you overexerting yourself." Before he could object further, he leaned forward and rolled the scroll shut before taking it in his hands. "I'll take care of everything," he whispered. "Just trust me." At first, it was very easy to confuse his overprotectiveness with care. He was attentive, loving in his own peculiar way. Before long, the control started to become more evident with each passing day. 

He never raised his voice nor did he yell. He didn't have to. His words had been enough to lead you to wherever he wanted you to go. And they were so gradual besides, too slight, almost imperceptible. He started taking you away from your friends, from your captain, your lieutenant, subtly making you feel they were not people you should trust. "They don't understand you the way I do," he'd say stroking your hair as you lay in his arms. "They'll only hold you back." And when you fell, he'd lift your chin so it faced his eyes, the skin of your forehead grazing his lips in a feather-soft touch. "I only want what's best for you." You had begun to lean on him, questioning your choices, and if indeed you really knew what was best for you. Then you went to Aizen to see if it was okay-the things you were doing. Aizen had this way of speaking, as though he was the only one who knew you. Lying beside him in bed, as night fell, you said what was pent up inside your mind, "Aizen, am I the only one who thinks this all went a bit too fast? I feel like... I'm losing myself." His response was immediate. "You aren't losing yourself, my love, you're finding who you're really supposed to be. With me, you don't have to worry about a thing. Always, I will take care of you," he says with a softness, but his words are like honey. Still, with those words somehow, it sent shivers down your spine. That was when the future conversations started, light at first, talks about what life could be if you stayed together. A house, peaceful life, children. "You'd make a great mother," he said one afternoon as his eyes latched onto yours. "Can't you imagine building a life with me?" Your heart had skipped a beat, but there was a growing discomfort. "Perhaps someday, but I don't know if I'm ready for that as yet." Aizen didn't press the issue then, but the subject kept coming up. He'd casually touch your belly, remark on how ideal it would be to have a family, how complete your bond would be if you were tied together in every possible way. "It's natural to be wary," Aizen told you one evening while you sat before the fireplace. His hand lay limply on your thigh, his thumb tracing soft patterns. "But do think about it. A child would only strengthen our love. We'd be forever bound." You laughed a little nervously and brushed the suggestion aside. "That's a big step, Aizen. I'm just not sure I'm ready." He smiled gently, his eyes concealing something, something that you don't notice. "You will see, in time, it is the best thing that can happen to us." You didn't know that in his mind, a decision was already made.

Aizen and you have had sex multiple times, so it isn't a rare occurrence for the two of you to have sex at least once a day, at the least, it would be once every two days. But, Aizen makes sure to leave you every night, making sure that you are so fucked out due to pleasure that you forget to notice particular things. 

Specifically, something that is about to happen tonight. 

Your arms are pinned above your head, as Aizen's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

 A moan left your mouth as your back arched to his touch. Your reaction made Aizen press down slightly more, and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

You felt his fingers slide down, and he found your seeping hols drenched with arousal. A finger slowly slid inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Aizen asked, and you nodded frantically.

"F-Fuck... feels so good, Sosuke," you whimpered as he started to slowly pump in and out your soaked walls.

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

Overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and intensity, it leaves you unable to hold back your moans. You lean your lips against his shoulder, muffling those sounds that burst from deep inside you. His fingers delve deep inside your core, firing a flame that engulfs every thought. Every movement, every curl sends shockwaves of pleasure across your body.

You let go and surrender to his intoxicating rhythm of touches. The junction of his skilled fingers with the intensity of our connection cossets you closer to the edge and teetering on the precipice of release. It was just a pure moment of bliss, where time seemed to stand still, filled completely with an overwhelming pleasure that coursed through the veins.

With Aizen's fingers pumping in and out of your seeping hole relentlessly, there was a familiar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, and pleasure that had tightened inside your stomach. You wrap your shaking legs around him, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure overflows. Anticipation ripples your body, reacting to every single one of his touches and movements.

You chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

At your pleading, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice husky with desire. His thumb starts pressing your clit with its fleshy pad, another layer added onto the sensations that are already so intense. The touch is electrifying, your back arches in response.

"Please, Sosuke," you sob. "I need to..."

"Let your body take over for you, you want this and I've got you," Aizen reassured, intertwining your mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. You managed to release myself from Aizen's neck and move away from his hold.

"Feeling alright?" Aizen asks cupping my cheeks.

"...yeah..." you breath out slowly while looking into his eyes. Aizen makes you feel so good, all the time, always focusing n your own pleasure, it's like he's trying to win you over for something, to distract you from something-

"There is more coming," Aizen said slowly, his brown eyes piercing into your own and they widened.

"More?" you tease, "What possibly could you give me more of?"

"So much, my love," Aizen hums. "Just let yourself loose, don't focus on anything, just on the pleasure I will give."

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Aizen's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Aizen moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against yours and you whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up agasint your stomach. His lips mingled with yours his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to go explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Aizen groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his chocolte and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"Look at you," he teases. "Trembling under my touch."

Aizen pants against your lips and you didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "Please," I whimper out.

"Hmm?"

"I want you...." you mumble. "Stop teasing me."

Aizen kissing your forehead like you were a child who listened to their parent. "Good girl."

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Aizen whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

You moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

You feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Your moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Aizen held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Aizen continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-" you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Aizen's bare chest causing Aizen to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you.

You arched your back heavily, able at last to sink further into his embrace. Aizen leaned over, drawing you near to him and initiating a messy, moist kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting out grunts as he absorbed your sounds of pleasure. 

Effectively distracting you as he cums half in your cunt and the rest all over your stomach. He mimics that he's pulled out when in reality, he's got you filled with his seed, ready for you to bare his child.

-------------------------------------------------

 Aizen watched you from his chair.. "You're shaking, dear. What's going through your mind?" His voice was smooth, treacherous in a way that completely made it impossible for you to feel anything but relaxed and on edge all at once.

"I-I just don't understand...," you stammered, your hand falling to rest on your stomach, that for the last couple of weeks had started to show the signs of the life growing inside you. "How could this have happened? We were careful..."

Aizen chuckled low in his throat. "Oh, my love. Did you truly think I would leave something so important to chance? This was always a part of the plan."

You froze, your mind racing. "Wha... what do you mean?"

He stood, moving towards you with the grace of a predator stalking his prey. His hand cupped your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "I made it happen. I want you bound to me in every way possible. You're mine now-mind, body, and soul."

It swept over you, you realise everything now. Every sweet word, every tender touch, was all an act to trap you. And in one swell, tears began to well within your eyes, but a gentle smiling Aizen wiped them away.

"There is no reason to cry, dear, this is for the best. Now you shall never leave me. You shall carry my child, and we will be bound together, forever." His lips pressed against your forehead. Your breath hitched as his hand slipped into your stomach. How had you not seen this all along? All those nights he had held you close, whispering sweet promises to your ear-all part of his carefully designed trap. He straightened, watching your. "You're too precious to let slip away. You see that, don't you?" His fingers brushed your skin. "You planned this," I whispered, more for my benefit than his. "You wanted this all along..."

Aizen smiled. "Of course. You really didn't think I'd leave a thing like that to chance, did you? I have always had a vision for us-a future wherein you would be mine-completely." You took another step backward, feeling the beating of your heart within your chest, but there was nowhere to go. "What if I don't want it?" you whispered almost soundlessly. "You are emotional now. Understandably so. But time will let you see this as precisely what you need." His voice was coaxing, speaking as he would to a frightened child. You shook your head, fighting down the panic rising into your throat. "I don't want to be trapped like this, Aizen. You can't just take away my choices." Aizen's hand rose to your chin, the pad of his thumb tipping your face upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Oh my love, I have not taken anything from you. I've simply... ensured that we shall never again be parted. Is it not what you wanted, deep down?" "I... I don't know," you said, voice shaking. "Shhh," Aizen cooed, pressing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are overwhelmed now. But in time, you shall see: our child will bind us together, and you shall understand that was the only way. You shall thank me for protecting our future. "Why?" one finally asked, barely above a whisper. "Why go to such an extent? Aizen's smile pulled taut over his lips, never quite reaching his eyes. "Because I love you. And when I love someone, I make sure they can never leave me." Aizen leaned down until his lips brushed against your ear. "There's no escape, my dear. Not now, not ever."

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

tag list :: @love-eien @enouche @dreaddful @z8riah

@yanakurokawaaa @princesstiti14 @bontensbabygirl @mitsuyas-version

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[nayaesworld]

Mafioso

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Warnings: Murder, manipulation, drugs and violence

Terry Richmond X OC!Marina

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The collective clink of champagne glasses filled the large venue as self-made millionaire and philanthropist Terry Richmond concluded his speech at the second annual charity event for Black women and children. Thunderous claps and cheers bounced off the walls as he exited the stage and came down to thank each and every single person that had come out to support and donate to the amazing cause. He was elated and proud of the turnout; truly grateful.

At 43 Terry felt at the height of his career. The comings and goings of life reflected well on his face and he carried all those trials and triumphs with him on his sleeve next to his heart. His story was a story of the people.

The night was a huge success. A large volume of high profile people had pledged and donated to this cause right along with him. Close family and friends came out in support and he circled around the room checking in on them and taking breaks to hit a shimmy or two on the dance floor.

He had also allowed some of his favorite black journalists and reporters to give interviews, but he was most interested in one in particular that had been very vocal and fierce about the safety of black children in spaces that society deemed not fit for them. How many times had a black child been harmed or put in a traumatic situation due to racism? Far too many times to count and they deserved a space to perfect their crafts without fear or judgement.

Marina Evans was a woman of poise, integrity, and culture, and at 25 she was at the top of her game. Not many could deny her journalistic credentials. She was the first person he wanted to give an interview to tonight and he sought her out quickly through the sea of people. The bold black gown had been a wondrous choice against her bronzed skin. Honey blond braids highlighting the warm undertones of her skin and dark expressive eyes styled with a natural set of wispy lashes. She was a show stopper. A true beauty.

She had just ended an interview with Weston Troy, a filthy rich middle aged man that owned a few hospitals in the area. Her eyes drifted over to him and she began to set up for his interview. A warm welcoming smile graced her face and he made sure to return it. Cameras and microphone ready, Terry adjusted his black suit and freed his mind.

“Tonight I am here speaking with local philanthropist and founder of ‘Hearts of Grace’ a charity founded to give aid and relief to underprivileged families…and without further ado I’d like to welcome Mr. Terry Richmond. How are you feeling about the turnout tonight… did you project the earnings for year two to surpass year one by so much?”

“ I’m feeling amazing tonight, the turnout was more than I could have ever imagined. When I initially started this charity I had no idea that anyone would ever give money to the cause at such a high volume, it's too often that things within the affiliation of the black community are not taken seriously or into consideration… I would like to change that, and with all the resources at my hand I'd be foolish not to invest it into people who look like me and sound like me.”

“I love that, what you did here tonight was jaw dropping. The kind of things I want to see more of, what does it mean for you to give back and support black families,businesses, and neighborhoods?” He pondered a bit before answering and pulled his lip from his teeth.

“It means that I have an opportunity to cater to and serve these underprivileged families, I too come from very humble beginnings. I grew up in a single parent household, it was just me and my mother so sharing this wealth with many people is top priority.”

“Terry, that is just amazing, I’m excited for more people to hear your story… for you it's been a long time coming, but for many of us this is our first time seeing someone who we relate to so much do as many great things as you have…and that brings me to my next question. How does being a role model to the younger generation speak to you?” Her questions were definitely living up to her reputation, she asked the real shit and he paused to gather his words, this was a passionate subject for him so finding the right words was essential.

“Being a role model for the younger generation entails a particular type of character and finesse… I want them to know that yes hard work and dedication can afford you the luxuries of life, but I also want them to understand that mental health is just as important um..if not more important than any career field or industry they choose.”

“I also saw that you named your charity after your mother Grace, how does it feel tonight to share this with her… I’m sure she is so proud of you.”

“My mother means the world to me…for any time I was ever in trouble or needed her she picked up the phone, she lifted me up, and she molded me into the man I am today. I don’t care how old I get or how many things I achieve, I'll always be her baby.”

“It was such a pleasure to interview you tonight, I thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to allow me to talk and pick your brain.” Marina had interviewed many men and women of different backgrounds and profiles, but none had ever struck her as truly genuine people quite as he did. He truly meant those words.

“Oh no anytime..you’ve had the best questions I thank you for that. And when I’m ready for another interview I know how to find you, thank you for coming out tonight Ms.Evans I truly appreciate it.” Terry left it plainly at that. He didn’t wanna seem weird by telling the young girl that he was an avid viewer of her podcast and hadn’t missed any episodes thus far.

The night carried on and people filled their bellies to the brim with liquor and a catered banquet of savory mouth watering food. Terry was on his second plate of food and had been cackling loudly in his mothers ear, all tipsy and giggly from the constant glasses of champagne.

“Boy you are just tickled to death ain’t you, what’s so funny son?” He rested his head onto her shoulder and squeezed her into a warm hug.

“I’m just happy ma..that’s it. Tonight turned out amazing and I get to honor you right along with it..I hope you’re proud.”

“Son is proud even the word for what I feel? You make me ecstatic, I hoped and prayed for so many long nights for you to have something…anything to call your own, and look at you now.” Grace pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before standing from her seat.

“Walk your mama to her car, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Terry walked his mother to her car and watched her disappear into the distance before he walked back into the building. Standing with his hands in the pockets of his smooth slacks, he surveyed the area with calm eyes. He was looking for someone. Ahh there she is. Honey blond braids swaying gently behind her as she rocked in her chair to the music. Headed in her direction he grabbed a freshly poured glass of champagne from the table and handled the delicate glass in his hands carefully.

Cognac eyes met his as he finally made it into her line of vision. “Champagne? I wasn’t aware you were still here Ms.Evans.” Her pretty manicured hand accepted the drink from him and she sipped a little before answering him.

“Yeah I guess I’m a bit of a recluse…I prefer to fade into the background at events like these. Sometimes it’s better to just watch.” Terry hummed in his throat before taking a seat in front of her crossing his left leg over his right.

“And on that point we do agree…for causes such as these I can show up no questions asked, otherwise I’m home nose deep in a good podcast.” His deep rumbling laugh coaxed a cute chuckle from her mouth.

She sipped a little more of the sweet champagne before she answered him. ”Oh wow me too , so you have a favorite one you listen too?”

“Yes…yours. It’s the only one I can sit through and enjoy without a missed episode. You’re great at what you do Ms.Evans…very captivating topics.” Terry watched a hand press to her chest in shock as her mouth fell in shock.

“You watch lil ole’ me, wow Terry I really appreciate that. And I try to make things interesting as well as informative… I'm happy it reaches you well.”

“There’s nothing little about the work you do, remember that.” Maria shyly tilted her head to the side, peeking up into his face from under her lashes.

”Thank you so much Terry, you have the kindest eyes by the way…sorry if that was weird.” He dropped his head and let his eyes lock onto hers and watched her skin heat up under his gaze.

“No no, not weird at all. I receive that..thank you beautiful.”

Terry enjoyed picking her head for the reminder of their time together. By 9pm the event had wrapped and everyone filed out of the large double doors to head home. Terrys large hand graced the small of her back not wanting to lose her in the crowd of people, he hated that their time was cut short because he had really enjoyed chatting with the smart woman.

“Did you drive here?” He looked down at her once they’d made it outside, the middle of people around them creating the perfect bubble for tj to talk.

“Mhmh I did.. I’m right over there, the black Acura.” Her dainty finger pointed at the sleek Acura suv that was coincidentally parallel parked behind his Manhattan Green BMW X6.

“ I’ll walk you..we’re parked right by each other.” Her heels clicked against the dark asphalt and she let a yawn escape her pretty lips.

“Tired Ms.Evans? Sorry to keep you so late, I’m sure you have other obligations.”

“Mhm it’s all the food and champagne getting to me, and no please don’t apologize I had such a nice time tonight… thank you again for extending an invitation to me.” The two stopped in front of her suv and it had Terry wishing he could turn back time.

“And miss an opportunity to talk to the gorgeous and seriously intelligent Marina Evans… not a chance. Thank you for your support, and drive safe.” He helped her step into her vehicle before he closed her door and watched her leave before pulling out his phone to make a call.

“Yeah she just left..keep close to the plan and do exactly what I told y’all to do. I find out you niggas did anything other than what I asked…yall are finished.” He hung up the phone and hopped into his car heading to his house. He knew what he was doing was fucked up, but rarely did Terry ever not get what he wanted. Only this time he wanted Marina Evans and he was willing to stage whatever freak incident he could think of to appear as the white shining knight in her story.

The contemporary home was a perfect mix of neutral earth times and dark greys. Features within the home had donned it with eco friendly and smart house features putting it at a price point of a whopping 1.2 million dollars. A price point Terry would pay and then some for a house that was exclusive to him. The story he told the public about his upbringing was slightly altered and fabricated. The money was only halfway clean, but his appearance needed to be crystal. No past offenses or charges, no run-ins with the police, and no witnesses.

He put people in the dirt for a living and that was just the true facts. The true underground king with an empire spanning throughout the states.A dr. Jekyll and Hyde if you will. The boogeyman. An assassin with the precision to kil. Right now his cousins were ransacking the cute little craftsman style house that belonged to Marina Evans. A sick way of pushing her into his arms he knew but having her would make it all worth the risk.

A new obsession had squirmed its way into Terrys head one night during a masturbation session. The video practically screamed out at him and he had nutted enough that night to fill the Mississippi River; twice,his eyes were glued to the computer screen as he watched the younger woman be pumped full of grown mature dick. The idea had crossed his mind plenty of times, something young and hot to trick on and fuck whenever he wanted to. It seemed maybe he’d be getting his wish sooner or later.

__

Paranoia and fear gripped Marina in the coming days after the charity ball. When she had made it home and into her driveway that night she knew something was off. The linen curtains that lined her French doors to her kitchen blew in the night winds, signaling the doors had been smashed. Eyes wide with fear and shock she held her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She frantically dialed 911 to report a burglary. Her house was a mess, picture frames broken and everything rummaged through. The following nights she spent in the guest room at her moms house, too afraid to sleep in her own house.

She had called into the local newspaper that she worked for letting them know of her unfortunate situation. Work would have to be put on the back burner for a few days right along with her podcast episode. She was still practically new to this neighborhood having only just closed on her home two months prior. It was a quiet safe neighborhood, and all her neighbors had kindly welcomed her into it. But now she wasn’t so sure about it being safe. What if she had been home When this happened, would she have lived to tell the tale?

She felt hopeless and the police had no leads yet. What was life without a curveball? She was currently wrapped up in her mothers guest room

sick with the flu. Coughs and sniffles were the soundtrack of life right now and the pungent smell of Lysol was in the air. She had no appetite and a slight migraine sat at her temples, and yet her phone began to ring excessively loud into her ear.

|“Hello?” She was sure she sounded as stuffy as she looked.

|”Marina..hey sweetheart it’s Terry. I called as soon as I heard the bad news, I’m so sorry.” His deep voice sounded apologetic over the phone and she had almost forgotten the exchanging of numbers almost a week ago at the charity event.

[-My uncle works at the police department..he mentioned your name and burglary in the same sentence and I just had to call and check in on you. I hope I’m not overstepping.

[-No not at all I appreciate you calling me..um yeah it hasn't been the best week for me so far it’d be better if I could find out who did this to my house…and now I’m sick with the flu.She heard shuffling and muffled talking on his end and she sat up further on the headboard of the bed.

[-Let me send you something Marina, a little get well soon basket…if that’s okay with you I can have my assistant drop it to you. Marina pondered a bit, and honestly what was the harm in accepting it?

[-I don’t know Terry, I couldn’t ask you to do that. One day you'll have to let me repay you back for your kindness.

[-I insist, and pay me back in good health.. and let me take you out some time when you’re feeling better. Some time had lapsed and he had seriously caught her off guard with the question.

[-Marina? You don’t have to give me an answer right now… my ego can handle it, trust me.

[-Sometime when I’m better definitely, I’m completely in the dumps right now..but I could definitely use that basket if it’s still on the table.

[-It is..I’ll get my assistant to contact you and get everything delivered to you. Get well Marina I’ll talk to you soon.

The call ended and she finally felt some strength in her to get up and tend to herself. Her braids had been in her bonnet for the last 48 hours and her face looked drained of all her color. She definitely wasn’t in any shape to look Terry’s handsome ass in his face. Her moms house was quiet, and she knew her mother wouldn’t be home from the hospital until 7 that evening so trying to get better was definitely the plan for the next few hours.

As he said, Terry had his assistant message her about her location to send the basket. It arrived well packaged with an aroma that was clearing her nasal passage. Two dozen crimson red roses and a large woven basket was on the front porch waiting for her in less than an hour. She hurriedly sat it on her mothers dining table and pulled the contents from the basket. Each item she was excited to use. Multiple face masks to bring back the color to her face, an expensive looking full body massager, a cozy pajama set, and a container of chicken noodle soup that was still piping hot from the deli uptown.

“How freaking sweet, now these are gifts worth having for sure.”

She sent a picture over to Terry letting him know that everything was revived with the highest appreciation. He hearted her message but didn’t send back a written reply.

__

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out my fucking city?!” Terry let his bloodied fist fly into the man’s face for a third time, he winced and shook his hand quickly before his phone vibrated in his pocket. A picture from Marina showing him the basket had made it to her and would be used gratefully. But she'd have to wait. Terry was in his mode. The kill a nigga and ask questions later mode, he had two run ins prior to this one with the same pesky ass excuse for a human being.

“Pass me my shit, I’m ending this. Motherfuckers need to know that I don’t speak twice.” The heavy gun was laid in his hand and he screwed on the silencer. The man in front of him cried and begged for his life, but time was out for him.

“Mario Brown…I’m sentencing you to death for not obeying the nigga that owns you.” A quick pull of the trigger put a silver bullet right through his head. His crew needed no words as they immediately rolled the body into a tarp to be burned.

Terry shrugged off his suit using it to wipe the blood from his face and neck. He had a warehouse stacked to the brim with cocaine that needed to make it to El Paso, Texas. Terry wasn’t a cliche in the world of drugs, he chose the mafia life willingly; it didn’t choose him. It was all he knew and it was all he’s ever done outside of his coverups, that consisted of real estate and stocks. All three things he needed to know the ins and outs of to keep up the facade. He was no good person and he was no angel. He maneuvered through this life cunning and forcefully, and yet he did so with grace.

Drugs had afforded him the type of access he wanted in life. A payroll full of law enforcement, cars and houses, and the baddest bitches on the continent. But he was getting older and more irritable with it all, and that was bad for business. A man that stayed irritated was a man bad for business, he had stacked and put so much money away his grandchildren’s grandchildren would be rich. And yet having all he had he still longed for a woman to call his, someone to marry and give his last name and kids too. Marina Evans was what he wanted-no needed, and he would pull out any stop to have her.

His clothes would be a pile of ash by the time he finished using the warehouse shower, black and purple bruises littering his back and side from a recent brawl with a new business partner who would ultimately be his way out. He didn’t believe the old heads that told him he only had one way out of this kinda life, he refused to put that shit on himself. Death was not the only way out, past men just didn’t have his sharp mindset and it showed because they all rested eternally in cemeteries.

His matte black Range Rover practically drove itself home. He was worn out and needed food and sleep. Public speakings to keep the wool over the public’s eye and the night time escapades that always ended in a dead body or two lying around, were getting the best of him. For the next month he planned to pull back from the public slowly but surely, only popping out to speak when absolutely necessary. The only person he cared to be around was her. What a fucking joke. Terry knew better about this situation and still refused to do better, he wanted what he wanted. Marina… Just the sound of her name rolling off his tongue enticed him and his dick had jumped multiple times in his pants when she complimented him at the ball.

A pretty lil thing with a good head on her shoulders and outside of wanting to put her through his mattress he was actually genuinely intrigued by her. And when he finally laid down it was her pictures and voice that invaded his privacy so badly he stalked all her socials. Her vibrant colorful pictures on her Instagram page pulled a smile from him, such an interesting girl.

__

The next morning came to Terry in peace. No nightmares and no tossing and turning, he felt well rested above all else and the pain he felt from his bruised body had subsided and drowned out without painkillers. His morning routine came effortlessly and he ended it all with a 30 minute meditation to thoroughly decompress his body to prepare for his day.

He scarfed down a savory bagel sandwich and washed it down with his herbal tea. His agenda for the day was light as planned, he was to be kept updated on the whereabouts of his drugs every hour on the hour and not a second late. A large sum of money was headed his way if shit went smoothly.

His fingers itched to message Marina; so he did. He wanted another try at seeing her. To his surprise she had responded quickly and said she was feeling well enough to meet at her house. She spoke of wanting to replace the broken glass on her French doors so he dressed casually and responded letting her know he’d see her shortly.

His Ford Raptor rounded the block into a cute quaint neighborhood. Children rode their bikes and sprayed each other with water hoses as their parents watched, and the background noise of barking dogs made it all full circle. He spotted Marina’s suv quickly and pulled in alongside it in her driveway. Getting out he noticed her still sitting inside and tapped on her window lightly.

“Hi Terry… I know I look weird still sitting in here. I’m just scared to go alone.” She gave him a bashful smile and opened her driver side door. Black biker shorts showing off her thick thighs and plush lower half, had him shaking his head. A Tupac graphic tee shirt and white sneakers completed her looks and her neat braids rested atop her head in a tight bun.

“Come on I’ll go with you, nobody will mess with you while I’m here I promise.” She obliged and walked side by side with him to the side of her house where the doors were. Terry measured where the glass was supposed to be and got the measurements for replacements and let the tape measure shoot back into itself before turning to Marina.

“I have a guy that does this kind of work. I'll get in contact with him for you. No cost to you, but for now I’d say invest in security cameras…they’ll bring you a good peace of mind.”

“Will do, that’s not even out of the question anymore… thank you for extending this kind of generosity to me.”

A smirk graced his face as he stared down at her, hands itching to touch her. “Let’s get lunch and you can thank me all you want afterwards.” He helped her up into his truck with a hand on her waist, green eyes going wide at her ass in his face, and on his way around the truck he was silently praying to god.

She was definitely chatty when she got comfortable, but he didn’t mind listening. They filled their bellies with Korean bbq and sushi and Terry was still ordering appetizers.

“Please no more, are you trying to stuff me?” In more ways than one he thought to himself, he just loved watching her eat. When she tried something new amongst the appetizers she hit a little happy dance if she liked it. They had ate their fill in food with plenty to bring home, Terry paid the bill and carried their Togo bags and she kept up beside him sipping quietly on her lychee tea. His phone buzzed in the console a few times and he ignored it knowing it was about his shipment, he would get to it when she was no longer around.

“Do you need to get that… am I intruding or something? You can let me know, I’m sure you’re practically booked and busy. Please don’t let me hold you up.”

“They can wait, you’re more important right now.” She turned slightly in her seat and her cognac eyes held his for what felt like hours. And she leaned closer into his space, holding that eye contact.

“You have the most beautiful eyes… they just seem never ending.” His stare intensified and he watched her smile dreamily at him, whatever effect he thought he had on her had been confirmed.

“You keep complimenting me like that and I’ll start to think you got a little crush on me Ms.Evans.”

“Would that be so bad…me liking you?” He shook his head and tucked a braid back into her bun fingers slowly grazing her neck. How bold of her,

“Only if I didn’t like you back.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers against her open palm watching her fingers twitch slightly. “You’re an amazing woman Marina… I’ve been interested in you for a while, but things just didn’t make sense then.” He thought back to a few months ago when he had initially intended on meeting her but he was busy trying to wipe a whole bloodline out at the time and that was time consuming.

Her eyes danced around his face as she listened to him intently, and his right hand rose to her chin to focus them, letting her lean into him to initiate a kiss. But she put her hands up pulled back slowly.

“But Terry what if-“

“Shh.. put your hands down and let it happen, let me in.”

His hands found her face and he pressed his lips to hers in a rush. Her tongue tasted sweet from her drink and the strawberry flavored lip gloss had him sucking her lips into his mouth like a savage. She gripped his shirt and he pulled her into him with a hand on her waist hand rubbing along her back soothingly, chest to chest heads turning left to right to increase the experience. He pulled away from her reluctantly and brought a hand to his lips to kiss.

“Give me a chance to court you and prove myself…if you don’t like what I offer you, then that’ll be it and I won’t bother you again, but if you do..I have so much to show you.”

“A deal is a deal Mr.Richmond..let the games begin.”

__

A/N: The girls called for Mafia!Terry??? HERE HE GO😗. Like and reblog if you enjoyed this🫶🏾

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy @ovohanna24 @talkswithdesi @notc0rtez @becauseimswagman1 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @mysteryuz

#terry richmond #aaron pierre #terry richmond x blackoc #rebrl ridge

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face “everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕰XES & Os

Lara Raj x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been seeing lara for a while and she’s finally invited you to see them perform at an award show from the vip lounge, but you didn’t expect to see the last person you’d want to run into on the way to the bathroom, and lara isn’t too happy when she spots the both of you from onstage

warnings: nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, hickeys, biting, rough!lara, dom!lara, jealousy, possessive!lara, semi-public!sex, car!sex, teasing, dirty talk

Y/N adjusted her dress—red, lara insisted she sported her favourite colour for good luck—smoothing the fabric over her hips as the bass from the concert hall vibrated through the walls of the VIP lounge. Tonight was a special night. Lara had personally invited her as her plus one to this show—a full house for some award show.

She had the perfect view of the stage—of Katseye.

Y/N had heard Lara sing before at Katseye concerts, but seeing her command an entire stage with her group was going to be such a new experience. The anticipation of watching her girlfriend in her element sent a thrill through Y/N’s body.

The woman decided to step out for a moment before the show began. The hallways were bustling with staff and a few other VIP guests milling about. There were tables on tables of food and drinks ordered perfectly, before a fancy bar offering many tapped kinds of beer. Y/N barely had a chance to orient herself and take in the room when she collided with someone.

“Oh, sorry!” Y/N started, but her voice faltered as she looked up and locked eyes with a familiar face.

Billie Eilish O’Connell.

“Y/N?” Billie’s scoffed, her voice like a melody she hadn’t heard in years but still recognized instantly. Her ex’s trademark smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Wow, it’s been a while.” Her eyes raked over the red, silky dress hugging Y/N in all the right spots. “You look… good.”

Y/N’s heart sunk. Of all places, why here? Why tonight? She cleared her throat, trying to maintain composure. “Yeah, it has. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m performing tonight,” Billie said casually, brushing her red rooted hair back. “And you? Who’re you here for?”

Y/N hesitated, debating how much to share. “My girlfriend, Lara invited me.”

“Lara?” Billie’s smirk widened knowingly. “As in Lara Raj from Katseye? I always knew you liked a woman with a bold hair colour,” she joked, “Small world, hm?”

Y/N nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Billie’s piercing gaze always had a way of making her feel exposed, even when there was nothing to hide. Before she could figure out how to end the conversation gracefully, a deep voice called out. It could only be whom used to be one of Y/N’s more familiar friends, Finneas. “Hey, Billie! We’re needed backstage!”

“Coming!” Billie called back before turning to Y/N. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. Maybe we’ll catch up later?”

“Sure,” Y/N lied, already dreading another conversation.

Billie leant forward for a quick hug, her hand placed securely on Y/N’s waist before pulling away with a grin.

As Billie disappeared down the hallway, Y/N exhaled shakily. The timing couldn’t have been worse. She knew Lara wouldn’t be thrilled about her talking to her ex, especially not tonight of all nights. Y/N made her way back to the VIP lounge, hoping to put the encounter out of her mind.

The concert was electric. Katseye’s energy was infectious, and Lara shone brighter than the stage lights. Her voice soared, her movements captivated, and Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off her. Every so often, Lara’s gaze seemed to flick toward the VIP lounge, and Y/N felt her cheeks flush under the weight of her attention. It was impossible for Y/N’s voice to go any louder, she practically lost her voice shrieking her girlfriend’s name as they moved around the stage for “Touch”.

Lara made sure to blow a kiss her way before they ended.

A couple more acts came on after Katseye, all delivering unique performances. When Billie sauntered onstage, the audience erupted. Y/N froze in her seat as the spotlight illuminated her ex. She watched Billie and Finneas exchange a quick nod before the music started. Their voices blended beautifully, creating a hauntingly powerful harmony. But as Y/N’s eyes darted between them, she couldn’t shake the tension knotting in her stomach.

Toward the end of the song, something caught her off guard. Billie’s eyes flicked toward the VIP lounge—toward her. It was brief, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

And backstage, watching the dozens of screens streaming different angles of the show, it was nearly impossible for Lara to miss the deliberate motions Billie seemed to throw her the VIP lounge. Initially, she thought she was crazy, there were a couple other people standing behind the glass of the lounge, it could have been to anybody. But, after a wink, a blown kiss and intense eye contact as she moaned in apart of the song “Bitches Broken Hearts”, she was almost certain her girlfriend, standing out amidst the others in that linen dress, was the target of Billie’s affection.

And the girls’ teasing just seemed to solidify the theory.

“Damn, Billie’s really coming for your girl, huh?” Manon joked, nudging a tense Lara with her elbow, “Look at her face.”

Daniela exhaled deeply, “I could feel the heats from here.”

Megan whistled, fanning herself. “Can you blame her? Y/N’s looking mighty fine in that dress.”

Sophia playfully shoved her in the shoulder as she eyed the tight clench of Lara’s jaw. “Don’t go instigating, guys. There’s like twelve other people standing in that VIP box.”

Yoonchae tilted her head, before pointing at something on one of the screens. “Is Billie… pointing?”

The six members gathered around the screens, their headsets and mic’s still clutched in their hands. It looked to be Billie standing from her seat beside Finneas. And as the man played the tune to “I Didn’t Change My Number”, Billie walked her way to the edge of the stage, gazing over thousands of fans reaching for her and letting out shrill screams. But her own gaze landed on the woman up in the VIP lounge, shimmering red beneath the showcase lights. Her hand rose to point at the woman as she belched a particular line, a line she had written for her when reminiscing on the times Billie would love waking to this woman’s bare back.

Lara knew of Y/N’s past, her friendship then turned brief but toxic relationship with Billie. Y/N had assured her many, many times there was nothing there anymore, they don’t even talk, but the way Billie seemed to be flaunting her feelings for her girlfriend was like waving red before a bull.

She was going to fucking murder Billie Eilish.

Assisted backstage by Katseye’s manager after the concert, Y/N waited anxiously, knowing she’d have to face Lara sooner or later. She was excited to jump into her girlfriend’s arms, showering her with kisses and praise for how good she did onstage. She hoped to explain everything in case she had seen the whole Billie fiasco, but fate had other plans.

“Oh, hey!” Billie called out. She was catching her breath, sweat dripping from her head with her hair clipped up lousily. She had a bottle of water in her hand, half-drunk and crushed in between her fingers. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N swallowed, nodding politely. “Yeah, you were good.”

“Yeah?” Billie smirked, looking down to wet her lips as she capped the bottle. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

The woman glanced past the singer’s shoulder to scout for her girlfriend or somebody from Katseye who could get her out of this situation. “Yeah, I really enjoyed the show. Hey, maybe we should catch up some other day over drinks, yeah?”

Billie tilted her head, “Really? I’d love that.”

She pulled her phone out her pocket, “I’ll text you a time and place. You still have the same number?”

From behind Y/N, Katseye had changed into the outfits they came in. They were laughing and chatting about the success of their performance. But Lara was ahead of the group, buzzing on her feet in excitement to see her girlfriend.

“Oh my God, is Y/N… talking to Billie Eilish?” Daniel gasped, “Wait, Lara, I didn’t know your girlfriend was friends with her. Maybe she could introduce us.”

But Lara stopped in her tracks, staring at the singer inching closer to her woman with a phone in her hand. She was sporting that signature smirk, her sleepy eyes drinking in the perfect skin to dress ratio her get-up offered. Without another thought, she strode over.

Y/N felt big hands palm her waist, sliding down and around her back. Warm lips met her cheek, before a taller figure loomed over her and alluring dark eyes met her own. She was basking in that post-performance afterglow and she looked ethereal. Before Y/N could greet her girlfriend or contain the excitement she felt suddenly surge from her head to her feet. Lara was already glaring at Billie, who just looked between them with an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, baby” Y/N started, the smile on her face spreading as she grabbed Lara’s face, pressing a couple kisses against her cheek. “You were incredible tonight.”

“Thanks,” Lara said curtly, her attention still trained on Billie, who brushed her nose and looked away. Her grip on the shorter’s waist tightened, fingers making its mark on her skin beneath the dress. She nodded towards Billie, who slipped her hand in her pocket. “What’s good? I’m Lara.”

“Billie.” The latter stuck a hand out, but retreated when Lara didn’t seem to entertain the offer for a handshake. “I’m a big fan. You guys looked amazing out there.”

“Mhm. What’re you guys talking about?”

“Nothing, baby, we were just catching up.” Y/N’s hand rested on Lara’s chest, fingertips caressing the fabric of her top in attempts to soothe the seething rage from the singer. “I was just saying goodbye to Billie. I’ll, uh—see you around?”

Billie nodded, winking. “See you around then, pretty girl.”

As she turned to leave, Lara pried herself from Y/N’s grasp. Her jaw locked and her fist clenched, she would have thrown a punch if Sophia and Y/N hadn’t held her back. The girls circled around the couple, keeping the redhead from getting in any trouble cameras could potentially catch.

“Lara, baby, please!” Y/N gasped, both hands on Lara’s chest as the taller looked over her shoulder at Billie disappearing into her dressing room.

“What the fuck is her problem, doesn’t she see me here?”

“Just let it go, it’s what Billie does, she’s trying to get a rise out of you.” The younger fixed the hair that fell into Lara’s face, gently cradling her face. Sophia motioned for the other girls to leave the two of them alone, they slipped away to the Katseye lounge for the afterparty. “Breathe, baby.”

Lara huffed, her lip twitched. Her nostrils flared as her jaw remained clenched, still looking anywhere but at Y/N.

Still, she didn’t reject her girlfriend’s touch.

Y/N’s arms circled around Lara’s neck, her fingers nipping at the baby hairs under her waves. Her body leant into Lara’s, gently tugging her into an embrace.

When she pulled away, Lara’s harsh grip on her hips softened.

“What the fuck was that? ‘Pretty girl’?” She scoffed.

“This is what she does, you can’t let her get to you.” She assured, “Billie’s just being… Billie.”

“And the fucking serenading? Is there something you wanna tell me, Y/N? She was singing and pointing at you during all her fucking sex songs.” Lara grunted, crossing her arms. “What, it’s just a fucking coincidence she was looking straight at the lounge of all the places she could’ve looked at?”

“Baby, you’re being ridiculous.” Y/N sighed, “I told her I was here with you. It’s not like that.”

“Really? After that whole show she put on onstage?” Lara’s jaw tightened. “And you just happened to run into her tonight? Backstage? With her all up on you like a slobbering dog even when she knew you’re here for me?”

“I didn’t plan it,” Y/N said quickly. “I bumped into her when I was tryna look for you. We only talked for a minute, I swear.”

Lara’s eyes searched Y/N’s face, her walls firmly up. “She was staring at you the whole, fucking thing. Do you have any idea how that looked? To me? To the audience?”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I only have eyes for you, Lara. Billie doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

Lara hesitated, her tough exterior cracking just slightly. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“No, you had other things to worry about,” Y/N said earnestly. “You worked so hard for this, and I didn’t want to distract you. I’m sorry for talking to her, she just wanted to catch up.”

Lara sighed, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “It’s not just about tonight. It’s about how I feel when I see you with someone like Billie—someone who clearly still wants to fuck you. Have you seen the way she was ogling you like you were a piece of meat?” She took the brown leather jacket she had on off, draping it over Y/N’s shoulders. “This pretty little body should just be for me, you got it? Me. Not Billie.”

“Lara,” Y/N gasped, feeling the taller’s hands palm her ass.

“I wanna hear you say it, baby girl,” Lara looked down at her girlfriend’s body, her eyes darkening and her lips slightly parted. Her hand slid beneath the base of Y/N’s dress. “Who does this body belong to, hm?”

“You, baby,” Y/N moaned softly, “Only you.”

Without warning, Lara closed the distance between them, capturing Y/N’s lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/N’s breath hitched, but she melted into it, letting Lara’s touch silence every worry. Lara’s hands moved to Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer as if to claim her in front of the world.

When they finally broke apart, Lara’s eyes burned with intensity. “Come on.”

Y/N doesn’t even remember how they guys got there, but they were parked in an empty lot somewhere on the way back to the dorms. She was too focused on Lara’s hand inching higher and higher each minute as she sped down the streets. Then, Lara would hop out the car, circling around to pop open the door on the passenger’s side. Y/N let out a loud squeal as the Indian leant in to pick her out, carrying her in her arms. She kicked the door closed, opening the one in the back and gently setting the younger inside.

Getting in, Lara cramped herself in between the woman’s legs, closing the car door behind her.

As she leant down to push her own jacket off her girlfriend’s shoulders, her free hand raked up the woman’s bare thigh, scrunching her red dress. The two of them were making out like two animals in heat, a complete mess. The Indian’s teeth grazed the skin of her jaw, trailing wet kissed down her neck to her collarbone. Her lips latched onto the smooth skin of her chest, sucking red, dark bruises onto her.

“Fuck, I love this colour on you.” Lara growled into their neck, her hands caressing the curve of her hips.

With her mascara running and her lipgloss smudged, Y/N looked up at Lara’s darkening eyes taking in her disheveled look. The straps of your spaghetti dress were already halfway down your arms. She smirked, “I prefer it off of me.”

Her hands had found their way under her dress, fingers lacing into the waistband of her red laced thong. She rubbed her clit through the fabric, drawing out a moan from Y/N’s lips.

Growing frustrated with the fabric, she slid them off her legs.

Automatically Y/N spread her legs, giving Lara better access to her glistening pussy.

"Aww, baby. Look how wet you are for me." She teased as she rubs her bud gently. “You this wet for Billie too?”

The car filled with the sound of their bodies shifting, fabric rustling, and harsh breaths as they both grapple for control. Lara’s fingers grabbed one of her legs, throwing it over her shoulder, her fingertips digging into her skin, while Y/N’s hands tangle in her hair, pulling roughly. The younger woman shook her head, whimpers escaping her swollen lips.

“Please, Lara, don’t tease.”

Lara pulled away quickly, hand raising to grab Y/N’s cheeks harshly. She whimpered at the loss of friction, fingers reaching down the older’s back, nails scratching lines into her skin. Y/N bucked her hips into the knee between her legs, needing more.

Y/N can't help but focus on the sensation of her leg between hers, the friction sparking a tickle within her. She ground against her harder, the heat building between your legs, and she let out a soft moan, her head falling back against the seat.

Lara’s hand trailed down her inner thigh, teasingly close to where she need her most.

"Nobody fucks you like I do." Her fingers slip further under her legs, tracing her fingernails against the skin around her core. Y/N can feel the heat of her hand, fingers inching closer, but not close enough. "Say it." she groaned, her lips brushing against her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.

Her hips move with the rhythm of her hand, pushing against it, seeking more. "Yes, Lara," Y/N whispered, her voice hoarse with desire, "Nobody fucks me like you do.”

“Mmh, that’s what I thought.” she smirked, her warm breath brushing her cheek as she slowly pulled her hand away, leaving you empty and aching.

She watched her girlfriend squirm under her, a leg still held over her shoulder. Her eyes flicking down to where she was still pressed against her thigh, seeking relief. She spread her legs slightly, allowing her more room to grind against her. “Such a fucking brat, flirting with your ex.”

“Stop being an asshole and fuck me already!” Y/N whined desperately, her nails digging into her shoulders.

She moved her fingers to plunge into her girlfriend. Y/N let out a loud moan.

“At least when I’m an asshole, I have enough gas in the tank to fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked.” she growled, pressing herself against her. “In the back of my car like a whore.”

Lara dove into the crook of the younger’s neck, her teeth sinking into her tender flesh to silence a groan coming from her own throat at the feeling of your cunt around her, starting a steady rhythm, she gripped your hips harder. “You gonna go talk to Billie after this? Show her the marks all over your body?”

The younger moaned loudly, the sound reverberating off the car walls. Her hand grasped at Lara’s hair.

“Shut up and keep fucking me.” she argued back, pushing back against her to meet her thrusts. the force of her movements made the car rock, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate as she continued to pound into you, one hand moving to grip your hair roughly. “Oh, fuck—God, Lara!—don't stop!'"

Lara’s other hand reached around to rub her clit, her fingers pressing hard against the sensitive nub as she fucked the younger mercilessly. Y/N’s body shook with the force of her movements, her legs trembling on the seat.

She hissed in Y/N’a ear, her breath hot and heavy, “You take me so well, baby,” she bites and sucks, quick to muffle any noises with her mouth, “just obsessed with my fingers, right?”

Y/N arched her back even more, pressing herself against Lara’s hot body as she filled her completely.

“Y-yes. Lara…” she slurred, “You feel so good!”

The windows of the car fogged up as the vehicle rocked violently with each thrust. Lara’s sweat dripped down her arm as she drove into Y/N relentlessly. By the way her legs were shaking, Lara knew she was close. “Cum for me, baby.”

Y/N’s moans grew louder, more urgent, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. Lewd noises escaped her parted lips. She clawed at Lara’s back as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Lara helped her ride out her high, before sliding out. She plugged her fingers straight into her mouth, moaning at the tangy taste. She leant down, ignoring the slight burn she felt along her spine, kissing a panting Y/N’s forehead.

“Next time I see you with her, I’m gonna make her watch as I fuck you silly. Got it?”

[fallbhind]

my girl dick is hard rn btw thanks to perv!classmate!rafe <3 “he was getting harder every time he heard your chuckles.  and god,when you wrapped that pen between your glossy lips, he just wanted to force his fat dick against the gap of your mouth, watching you struggle to take him with those pretty eyes of yours rolling in the back until he’s crying and his tip leaking on your favorite lipstick.” if i could read this everyday all day I’d constantly stay hard. need someone to get hard listening to my chuckle &&. everything in between.

“you probably didn't know it, and it was one of his many dirty secrets, but he had a sex doll in his room that looked exactly like you and that he fucked every time he came home. he was a premature ejaculator but above all compulsive. you could be sure that this doll was fucked ten times in a row until he was out of breath, sweaty and stinking, until his hair and sheets were drenched in sweat and juices with his muscles drained and body shaking under painfully spasms.” this was so incredibly detailed in my opinion, so at least we know exactly what he does in his room as well as what it smells like.

“‘god, you're pathetic.’ you muttered before sitting next to him.  ‘did you pee your pants ? you've got a stain.’ you whispered in his ear. ‘i know what you are, cameron.’ but you were in a good mood today, so you wrote on a paper.  — meet me in the girls' bathroom upstairs. (I know how much you love this place. I'm even sure you have lots of photos of me in the cabins.)” god that’s hot mean!popular!reader is hot w pervclassmate rafe holy shadooks.

“as soon as you touched it, his stomach clenched. you were so kind to do that for him. you only thought of yourself. your fingers moved speed around his shaft while his balls slapped against his muscular thighs in motion. he was hard since this morning, so it was hurting him so bad, to the point he was terribly miserable and unsteady, just waiting for your touch since he watched you this morning in the hallways.” god nemyesyaaa ur starting to make me feel like this his something personal 😞. my girl dick got harder, making my stomach clench at the perfect description of dried cum.

“

“‘good boy, aren’t you rafe?’ you replied while gently slapping his heated cheek, before squeezing both of them between your fingers.  ‘you definitely are.’ you said, watching his face blushing under your touch. ‘y-y-es…’ ‘so you will do anything for me…?’ you asked with a smile on your lips. he nodded again. anything you wanted. absolutely anything. ‘fine…i'm gonna give you what you want.’ ‘what do you mean?’ ‘that i'm gonna use you until i'm tired of you. it's my turn to have fun. but it will stay a secret between us of course. this is my number, and i better find you all submissive when i call you.” mean!popular!reader is such a girl boss helping out perv!classmate!rafe fulfill his sexiest nightmare.

ain't nobody business // classmate!rafe cameron x mean!popular! reader

summary ; your classmate was too obssessed with you...but you were also too cool to care about him....only at first....

warnings ; 18+ smut plot. verbal violence. oral(f&m receiving). public masturbation. sub!rafe (simp obssessed and loser). nosebleeding so kind of blood. spitting. pervy behavior/needy depraved attitude. light praising. weird obssession. minors dni. be aware of the warnings before reading please.

author's note : none.

pervy classemate!rafe who's always been your biggest simp. not only had he always been a simp when it came to you, but he was totally sick and completely depraved. he was the very definition of the word pervert in its most terrible sense. he never missed a single class where you were present because he was completely obsessed with the idea of being close to you, of sharing the same space as you. he loved to hum the air you breathed because your scent was the one that intoxicated him. he was constantly at the back of the class and you were only a few feet away. he was a pathetic gooner who knew he had no chance with popular chicks  like you. your standards were — too fucking high.  you were the kook princess,  too classy, too hot, too perfect, the mean girl out of his league.

 then, he was never presentable. 

you didn't necessarily notice it because you liked to ignore the existence of your fan. but he was constantly looking at you, his blue eyes glued to every one of your moves. he was like a stalker, watching you from afar in the hallways as you walked through the crowd with your group of friends. you were the prettiest of them all, your hair was always clean and neat, your face soft and made up, your lips covered in gloss and your mouth chewing a bubblegum. you always wore skimpy outfits because it was always horribly hot even inside the school. 

he was desperately waiting for you to burst into his line of vision, his hand already stuck in his pants. his locker wasn't far from yours. there were photos of you and accessories belonging to you inside. everything you thought you throw away, he would get it back. he had a huge collection about it.

he was too freaking weird and lame — kind of the pervy freak your girlfriends make fun of it.  the kind of losers that upset you and made you roll your eyes when he was staring or talking to you. the kind of idiots that was always in your fucking way instead of getting lost somewhere you didn't care. 

but despite your mean and cold attitude toward him, rafe was always so eager to see you. 

out of the pathetic man he was, rafe cameron was big. even when his dick was limp in his boxer, a fat bulge was outlining the fabric of his underwear. when you were in the same room as him, he always felt the need to palm himself, literally stroking his aching cock through his pants as you took a seat. it was crazy because your back was only shown to him but his dick was already growing in his grip, the veins of his length bulging thick against his touch. 

he was getting harder every time he heard your chuckles.  and god,when you wrapped that pen between your glossy lips, he just wanted to force his fat dick against the gap of your mouth, watching you struggle to take him with those pretty eyes of yours rolling in the back until he’s crying and his tip leaking on your favorite lipstick. the way you swirl your tongue around the hood, leaving a trickle of drool webbing from your lips to the pen while you pretended to think, sweet moans escaping your lips as you fixed your mini skirt was too much for him. 

you were such a bitch. 

you probably didn't know it, and it was one of his many dirty secrets, but he had a sex doll in his room that looked exactly like you and that he fucked every time he came home. he was a premature ejaculator but above all compulsive. you could be sure that this doll was fucked ten times in a row until he was out of breath, sweaty and stinking, until his hair and sheets were drenched in sweat and juices with his muscles drained and body shaking under painfully spasms. when he had to jerk off, he didn't need to go to pornsites, he just needed to open your insta page. and it was even better when you posted stories because you were always half naked in them. he masturbated until his screen was covered in hot and thick spurts, his liquid hiding your face.

he was such a dreamer and you were such a fantasy. 

one time, you were in physics class in this lab-like class and you were across from him. he spent the whole time looking at your cleavage. his eyes were deep down on your boobs.  but he was also suffered from  a  painful boner that you were aware about, but was ironically under your control.  

“ want a picture of them, cameron ? ” you said with exasperation. “ because you're never gonna touch them. never in your life so stop watching. ” 

he knew it. losers like him didn't stand a chance with girls like you and that was what made him even hornier. 

sick.

the slightest contact with you was enough to ignite him. and telling him that he had no chance of touching you or going out with you made his cock bigger. 

" god, you're pathetic. ” you muttered before sitting next to him.  “did you pee your pants ? you've got a stain. ” you whispered in his ear. “ i know what you are, cameron.” 

but you were in a good mood today, so you wrote on a paper. 

— meet me in the girls' bathroom upstairs. (I know how much you love this place. I'm even sure you have lots of photos of me in the cabins.)

you kissed him on the cheek. as you were looking down on him, he just gasped while swallowing hard as you were laughing out loud with your girlfriends.

you were waiting for him  in the bathroom after class. it didn't take long for him to arrive. you had locked both of you in a cabin. he barely had time to open his mouth when you were already pulling down his pants to give him a blowjob. 

his boxer was wet and covered with dried cum. it was so gross and god so disgusting. you couldn't believe yourself that you were about to do this.

“are yo..." 

“Be quiet, Cameron. or i might kill you. ”

“ Please, you turn me on. ” he pleaded with a hard breath. 

his dick was fat and hard, literally twitching under your touch as you tried to not think too much. he was already whimpering like a crybaby when you hadn't even touched him yet.

he was in heaven. you were like a goddess for him. 

“ You really don't deserve me. and not even what i'm going to do to you. So you better not  screw that moment because it's gonna be the  first and last time a girl gonna ever touch you in your shitty life. ” 

as soon as you touched it, his stomach clenched. you were so kind to do that for him. you only thought of yourself. your fingers moved speed around his shaft while his balls slapped against his muscular thighs in motion. he was hard since this morning, so it was hurting him so bad, to the point he was terribly miserable and unsteady, just waiting for your touch since he watched you this morning in the hallways. 

he was shaky and breathy, drooling and moaning like a slut. and it was also ironic too because you were supposed to be the whore in general. but rafe cameron was one of the biggest bitch you ever seen. 

he was a kook but he was so shitty. 

“ i said be quiet. ” you ordered with a firm voice, tired of his whines. “ since you struggle to listen to me, i'm gonna put this in your mouth. better hold it tight with your teeth because if i hear another sound from you, i gonna take those high heels that you love to see me with and step on your dick with it. understand ? yea, i can give you real reasons to be noisy.  " 

you took off your underwear to stuff it in his mouth. you had hooked it tightly enough behind his head to keep him from dropping it. 

when you wrapped your mouth around his cock, you felt him shudder as you began to suck him gently. you moved your mouth as far as possible until you felt his girth at the back of your throat.  you had pushed your mouth to take all his inches, making in it fit between your lips. you were now full stuffed with his cock that was throatfucking you senseless. 

you were licking and sucking, giving him the blowjob of his life. he started to foaming at the mouth over your panties, his drool dripping from his chin to the raging dick that filled you. 

you were literally taking the saliva he was raining over you, giving no shit at this point.  when he began to move his hips, guiding the pace while fucking your throat, and you let him do as he was driving himself between your lips. a hand was tangled in your hair, getting them messy. your tongue was so soft, the sweetest he ever felt.

his lower tummy was twitching, abs flexing deep to the feeling you gave him. a sloppy head  that made him cum so fast, coating your lips with a splash of sperm, as he held the back of your neck, forcing you to gag over the fat length. you were still hot, but messy. your vision was blurred and your face was covered with his drop of white loads, and streams of saliva. mascara was dripping from your eyes, your lipstick was smudging on your cheeks and his cock, your mouth was damping with drool and small bubbles connected to his sticky soaked tip.

you sucked him again and he came five minutes later inside your throat. after that, he had stuck two fingers down your mouth. it was as if the roles had reversed for a moment because you were now his whore. 

he had started to thrust in and out, free-using your cavity while you took his fingers deep in your mouth. they were big and wet, making you gurgle terribly. his digits felt even more thicker inside you. he was brushing them against your tongue, forcing you to take them and lick them until they were nice and clean.

 

when he was satisfied, you had collected your panties, getting ready to leave. “please, die now. it's so embarrassing for me. ” you looked down and your eyes widened. “i don't mean that to see you being even bigger, cameron. you're such a trash. ”

“ please, can i touch you ? ” he was whimpering to your ears. 

“ think you deserve it ? ” you answered. “ because no, you can't. ”

he was under you, his grip so weak around your naked thigh, while he was pleading under his breath.  

he was staring at you with desperate eyes  that you agreed. “ but you're not gonna touch me. you're gonna watch only. you understand ? ”

he nodded, before getting on his knees. you took a seat in the cabin, and spread your legs, skirt on your knuckles. his hand was already on his cock, the tip leaking on the floor, as you opened your thighs wider to watch him losing his mind fully on the sight of your gleaming pussy. 

you hate yourself for being so soaked that wetness was running down your skin. rafe was now jerking himself off, his heavy and shaky breathing escaping his lips. you had brought fingers against your pussy after having moistened them then you had started to play with your lower lips with your hand before starting to caress yourself. your legs were feverish because you had already shoved three fingers inside  you. 

rafe was obsessed. you managed to drive him crazy, to dehumanize him. he had lost control when you added another finger, making it seem like you could fit the whole hand. you were so naughty, but your moans were so sweet. then the way you squirmed as you fingered yourself made him sick and perverted. “ easy pretty, you can't cum before me. ” 

but he couldn't take it anymore, he had soaked his hands from touching himself so much while he watched you fucked yourself with your fingers. “ c-can…i cum..please…” he was breathless, mouth running like a pup, eyes filled with tears as his hands were trembling over his throbbing dick. “ n-need…it…! ”

“ it's all you got, baby ? i'm disappointed. looks like someone doesn't really want to cum…” you teased, still playing with your insides. 

he knew he was stupid but you made him even dumber. when it came to you, he had nothing in his head, no self-esteem, no dignity. your fingers worked hard in your insides. the wet sounds of your digits going back and forth in your plushy canal as he was stroking himself harder. his fingers were in rhythm with yours, matching the way they were moving in your pussy. 

you were like a movie star. a fucking porn star. the one he's dreamed about in the dark of his room.

your cunt was clenching over your fingers, sliding in and out of the wetness that came from your walls. but you continued to push them deeper and deeper to bring you close. you feel your hips lifted up, your legs trembling and you find yourself on your tiptoes as you reach your digits further in your swollen cunt. rafe couldn't help himself, and moved from your place to lick at your pussy when your fingers were still inside you. he was eating you out at , tongue sticking at your drooling slit that he was lapping while golden stars were taking you away from reality. he was so needy, the way his voice was breaking into your pretty cunt. he spreaded your folds way with his tongue, lapping through the needy hole before starting to make sloppy licks. you could feel his heavy nose rubbing against your clit, stroking it gently as he was lapping and stretching your canal. 

you had to admit, he was good and if you didn't have so much ego you would let him know. but instead, you let him continue, the weight of his tongue shoving inside you, forcing you to squirm as he tickled your sensitive bud with his face. he was thrusting in and out, letting you leak your juices on his chin.

he was so deep in the thing, twirling his tongue to feel all your insides, driving his mouth so deep that he could not miss the spot, hanging his jaw open to let your wetness drip down his chin. 

he was about to pass out, living the dream of his life with you. the way your pulsing clit was rushing into his fat nose making him nuzzle stronger , slow back and forth to messy rubs. all your pussy was now so tough on him, stroking him harder, forcing him to gasp and wimps. you didn't make it stop because you were too selfish to care about what he felt. 

his mouth was working on your slit, as your clit was still evilly running the sensitive spot of his nose, getting it all wet and red until you heard a small crack from the pressure. his nose was now bleeding but that didn't stop him from pleasuring you. he was still eating at your cunt, metallic taste added to the sweet of your hole. after a wild minute, his entire face was coated with blood and seeds as he cried harder, his hands tugging the skin of your hips. 

his nose was bleeding against your bud, as a line of the red liquid was trailing over the opening of your cunt making a way to his driving tongue. he was buried inside your whole sucking you to depth with blood foaming under his teeth — so close to bleed into your folds. 

when you exploded, his tongue still fucking you, he had been so quick to swallow it all.

“ it's not gonna happen twice…” you muttered, still a little dizzy.  “And if you tell anyone, I’ll find you and kill you. And please, take a fucking shower,  Cameron. ”

“ It's Rafe. ” 

“ I know your name. I just don't care about it. ” you replied with a sigh. “ Now, i'm leaving. Stop, gooning yourself. It's so gross. ”

You began to walk away but you wanted to add something more. 

“ Did you understand ? Nod your head…”

You smiled when he obeyed. 

“Good boy, aren’t you Rafe ? ” you replied while gently slapping his heated cheek, before squeezing both of them between your fingers.  “ You definitely are.” you said, watching his face blushing under your touch. 

“ Y-y-es…” 

“ So you will do anything for me…? ” You asked with a smile on your lips. 

He nodded again.

 Anything you wanted. Absolutely anything. 

“ Fine…i'm gonna give you what you want. ”

“ What do you mean ? ”

“ That i'm gonna use you until i'm tired of you. It's my turn to have fun. But it will stay a secret between us of course. This is my number, and i better find you all submissive when i call you. ” 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyNine

prompt from @mugloversonly @after-the-end-times @spectrum-spectre

It’s a little odd having a birthday banner hanging across the Christmas Tree, but everyone was pretty determined that this is Eddie’s birthday, and that’s a totally different thing to Christmas Eve. So everyone is here; Joyce even baked a proper birthday cake, and now they’re doing the thing where they bring out the cake and everyone sings.

It feels bittersweet to Steve; Eddie’s first birthday. It was a year ago today that Steve pulled Eddie out of the pool. A year ago today Eddie came back to him. He remembers vividly struggling to get Eddie up the stairs. Cleaning all the filth off him. How he’d looked, with no hair at all, all skin and bones, wobbling his way down the stairs. The noise he’d made the first time he ever tried bacon; the startled look on his face the first time he’d ever hiccuped.

Eddie stays where he’s been put, sitting at the head of dining room table, proudly wearing a Birthday party hat. Eddie’s been to a couple of birthdays this year, mainly for the kids, so he knows what’s coming. He looks fucking delighted at the sight of the cake, but he still checks, “I can blow out the candles?”

“Yeap,” Steve tells him.

“Make a wish first!” Joyce calls.

“I wish-”

“Nooooooo!” probably half a dozen people yell, “keep it a secret or it won’t come true,” Robin adds. Eddie stares hard at the candles for a long second, and then he looks up, finding Steve. Steve can see the moment Eddie settles on his wish.

He’s still staring at Steve when he blows them out.

“So...things with Eddie are good then?”

It’s a little uncomfortable, but all the stuff that happened feels like it was a long time ago now. Nancy has definitely been making an effort to build a fresh friendship, and Steve can’t fault her for it, not really. Steve finds Eddie, he can see him through the doorway into the kitchen, making something with Robin and Chrissy, “yeah everything is...great. Like really great.”

“I was...a little surprised, you know?”

“Yeah that’s...understandable,” and it is. Eddie is literally a creature from The Upside Down; he didn’t even look remotely human to begin with, half of him was literally a fish. Plus Steve’s never really been interested in guys before, but he guesses there must have always been a little something there for him to take to it so easily. Granted the circumstances forced his hand a little, and he’s still had a couple of things to work through but...he feels pretty good about it. Besides, Eddie still isn’t even really human, so it probably doesn’t exactly count. Not with his lack of nipples and his downstairs situation anyway; you can’t exactly try to stick Eddie into a category...he’s Eddie, a unique and perfect thing all his own.

In the kitchen, Robin spills something, Chrissy shrieks and Eddie manically dashes for a cloth, cackling. The chaos of it makes Steve smile at them; everyone is at least a few drinks deep, Steve’s sure.

“You really care about him though?” She presses a little. Nancy’s never been able to just let it go, especially if she doesn’t understand it. She always needs to know, Steve’s pretty sure it’s not a nosiness thing; more an understanding thing.

“Yeah, yeah I love him,” Steve tells her unabashed, it is the truth, “he loves me too.”

“You’re sure it’s not just...I mean you did rescue him, plus, where would he even go if you weren't together-”

“Are you suggesting Eddie has some sort of-of-of Stockholm syndrome?” Steve can’t help but laugh, a little incredulous at the suggestion.

“Well no, I just. Think you should both be sure-”

“How are you and Jon then?” Steve cuts her off. He chooses to lean into the spirit of Christmas and assume that Nancy’s concerns all come from a good place. Even so, it’s not a good intention Steve has to tolerate if he doesn’t want to. He raises his eyebrows at her, waiting.

Nancy draws breath, like she’s not done, but then clearly rethinks it and chooses her battle, Steve can see the moment when she decides not to pursue it, sipping her drink before she replies, “yeah, really good,” over her shoulder, Eddie, Chrissy, and Robs have their heads together, the conversation clearly turned serious.

“That’s good Nance,” Steve chooses to be the bigger man, “I’m just really glad you’re both happy,” he tells her pointedly. In the kitchen, Eddie’s turned to find Steve, watching him back. Steve can’t quite decipher the look on his face, but Robin’s clutching his arm, on her toes, speaking urgently to Eddie. She looks kind of panicked, which immediately worries Steve.

“Well, I mean, obviously I want you to be happy, I mean I’m glad, really glad it all worked out for you.”

Eddie has a look on his face that Steve’s pretty certain he’s never seen before. He can’t quite work out what it means other than...Eddie’s pissed. Like, really fucking angry. And he’s marching closer, shaking off both Robin and Chrissy in the process.

Steve has no clue what’s happening as Eddie approaches, pushing Steve away from Nancy to press him against the wall and then...kisses him. Steve has his eyes open, not sure what to make of Eddie’s rage, but he soon lets them slide closed. He melts against the wall. Eddie’s kissing him like he’s got something to prove. He’s almost bitey as he sucks at Steve’s lips, leaving little scrapes that don’t quite break the skin. The passion is surprising, but so fucking hot Steve leans into it fast, matching Eddie’s energy and he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, curling his fingers around Eddie’s hips to pull him closer, no longer wanting to stop to question Eddie’s motives.

Eddie pulls back, pink and flushed, an inch of space between them, panting for breath Eddie asks, “you and Nancy used to be together?”

“I-” Steve can’t help his gaze flicking side wards to Nancy, and then back to Eddie, Eddie’s eyes narrowing at the sight, something flashing in the depths, “yeah?” Steve confirms weakly.

Eddie presses closer, his claws pricking Steve’s skin through his clothes; Eddie’s never been possessive like this before, and Steve is...well they’ve had a lot of sex, and Eddie pressing himself against Steve like this, kissing him like that...Steve’s body is only reacting the way it always does, which is a little mortifying in a room full of people.

Eddie leans his face closer again, his hair brushing Steve’s forehead, his breath warm as he growls, “you had sex with her?”

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, but apparently even that is too much, Eddie has him by the wrist, not quite painful, but very harsh compared to Eddie’s usually gentle nature. Eddie turns, pulling Steve along and he...bares his teeth at Nancy, actually hissing at her on the way past.

“Eddie!” Steve starts again, shocked, this time a reprimand, “be nice!” That’s no way to behave, and Nancy is unnerved enough that she takes a big step back. Steve is dragged along behind Eddie, ending up locked into the downstairs bathroom together. Eddie pins him against the door with his body, kissing Steve soundly.

“Baby,” Steve starts, his words broken by kisses, “what’s gotten into you?”

Eddie just growls. It’s not a sound Steve’s ever heard before, and he can feel it, rumbling in Eddie’s body where their chests are pressed together, “need you.”

Eddie starts nipping at Steve’s throat, stinging kisses that makes Steve’s hips roll, looking for friction against Eddie’s thigh. His brain feels like it’s going a little mushy, Eddie’s being unusually forceful, and Steve’s vaguely aware that everyone is still out there and, probably, are now very aware that they’re shut in here together but...as Eddie’s questing fingers find the button on Steve’s jeans, he’s struggling to care about that stuff.

“We’ve got to be quiet,” Steve breathes out, a final token protest, giving in to what's about to happen. Eddie huffs dismissively, tugging down Steve’s jeans and underwear together, Steve angling his hips away from the door to help. Eddie abandons them there, bunched around Steve’s thighs, surging up for another possessive kiss. Eddie grabs Steve’s bare ass with both hands, his claws digging into the meat a little as he squeezes, pulling Steve against him.

“She not touch you again,” Eddie growls against Steve’s mouth, words choppy, “promise.”

“I...I promise baby, of course,” Eddie stares into Steve’s face, their warm breaths mingling as Eddie inspects him from inches away, like he’s searching for any hint of a lie, “no one else ever again, I swear it.”

Eddie nods once, sharply, before spitting into his palm and grabbing Steve's now, very hard cock. He had no idea he’d be into this, but possessive, bossy Eddie is lighting him up in a way he didn’t know he’d like, his brain turning to mush a little as Eddie touches him. He feels too warm, flushed and sweaty already, the world narrowed down to Eddie’s touch on him, hard and fast, intent on getting him off.

“And you,” Steve’s mouth is insisting before his brain catches up, he needs it, needs to make Eddie feel good too. Eddie doesn’t stop jerking him, but he does slow it down, leaning back a tiny bit, giving Steve space to reach past the bend of Eddie’s own arm to get to the button on his jeans.

Steve sees the fabric move. He can see Eddie’s cock desperately wriggling for freedom beneath his zipper. Eddie’s told him before that it gets real uncomfortable real fast, and Steve tuts quietly, “baby.”

Eddie’s cock forces it's way free before Steve even has the zipper half down, already having found it’s way through the slit in Eddie’s boxers, it rushes into Steve’s fingers, greeting him eagerly and tangling itself firmly there. Eddie groans, shuffling close again. The head of Eddie’s cock opens, setting sucking kisses on every part of Steve’s hand and fingers it can reach. They arrange themselves as Eddie’s hand speeds up again, “fuck, baby, yeah.” Steve’s cock is leaking, making Eddie’s hand slick, but Eddie still stops to spit again, landing the glob on the exposed head of Steve’s cock. It’s red already, and Eddie squeezes, forcing Steve’s foreskin up to roll back up and partially cover the swollen head.

Steve’s guts are tight already, the muscles in his ass and legs tensing, he can’t stop the shift of his own hips as he works his thumb in circles across the head of Eddie’s own cock. Eddie jacks him again, slow and so firm, forcing a massive dribble of pre come out of the head of Steve’s cock. Steve groans again, “baby, I’m gonna’-”

“Wait,” Eddie uses his free hand to push Steve’s hand off himself, letting his cock to wriggle free between them. It stands tall, searching, the black petals rippling.

Eddie angles Steve’s cock out, pulling the head down and towards himself, and Steve instantly knows what Eddies planning, “oh fuck baby, yes, yes please.” They’ve never done this before, but just the idea of it makes Steve hips shift, his balls going tight, the orgasm bubbling at the base of his cock, “please, now,” Steve vaguely aware that he’s whining, loud and desperate.

People can hear; he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants this.

Eddie’s cock latches to the head of Steve’s, the black petals stark against the dark pink spongy head. The fit is perfect, the slit of Steve’s cock, the head, being suckled and gently rubbed by all those little bumps, the sucking pulse feels like a mouth, the texture incredible. Eddie drags his hand upward, forcing Steve’s skin up again, his foreskin sliding over top of the petals. Eddie makes a choked noise, his free hand scrabbling again at the meat of Steve’s ass. Steve desperately locks his knees to stop himself from falling. The pulsing, sucking, pulling sensation is relentless.

Eddie moves his hand again, dragging Steve's foreskin back down, revealing the filthy sight of those jet black petals cupping the head of Steve's cock, the body of Eddie's cock writhing. Steve’s head thumps back against the door, his hips wriggling now, unable to stop himself moving in tiny little thrusts, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve groans, “baby-”

Eddie leans up for a kiss. It’s messy, uncoordinated, both of them groaning and panting into each others mouths, and Steve cries out against Eddie’s lips as he comes. The pull is sharp, the stimulation on the head of his cock turning frantic as, just like with Steve’s spit on his cock, Steve’s come works to push Eddie into his own orgasm. Eddie accidentally catches Steve’s lip with his teeth, and the sting is delicious. His orgasm seems to go on forever, Eddie's cock suckling fiercely, and Eddie’s hand working him so perfectly.

Eventually, Eddie slumps forward onto Steve, Steve using his back to the door to keep them both up. “That was…” Steve starts, but doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t know how to describe what just happened. It was maybe the best orgasm of Steve’s life.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, muffled where his face is smushed into Steve’s shoulder. The head of Steve’s dick is suddenly cold, and he figures Eddie’s dick has gone back in. They stand there for a few minutes, Steve rubbing Eddie’s back, gathering themselves. Eddie clears his throat, lifting his head so he can look Steve in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

Steve frowns, brain still a little flooded with happy chemicals, “what?”

“For before. I just...I found out about you and Nancy and I got...I got so angry. It,” Eddie makes a motion between them, a churning of his insides that he can’t express, “I’ve never felt like that before it was...like I hated her. And I needed you and I don’t understand-”

“You were jealous, baby?”

“I...yeah, it was horrible. And stupid- I didn’t – there’s no-” Eddie huffs, struggling for the words.

“How you feel doesn’t always make sense. There’s no...rules, you know.” Steve frowns, remembering, “should probably say sorry to Nancy though, you like, hissed at her which, kind of funny but still.”

Eddie looks a cross between horrified and mortified, “I don’t even remember.”

“Wow,” Steve can’t help being smug, “got it bad for me, huh?”

Eddie limply slaps at Steve’s chest, sighing through his nose, “shut up.”

Steve hums, “uh huh. We should get cleaned up.”

“Probably.”

They peel themselves apart, Steve leaning to grab for some tissue off the roll as Eddie starts to pull his pants down a little, but as Steve investigates, his finds his cock dry, “huh, where did it go?” He wipes up a little, the skin tacky with spit and precome, but otherwise everything is clean and dry, “uh...is my come on you? I can’t, uhm, find it?” He tucks himself away, pulling everything up so he can help Eddie.

“I don’ t think so?” Eddie replies, touching himself, his slit, the crease of his thighs, when Steve goes to wipe at him with the tissue, since Eddie usually makes a lot of come, there’s nothing, “I’m clean,” Eddie tells him.

Steve frowns, “did you come?”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, “I definitely, definitely did. That was…”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “but you’re dry?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scissors his thighs together, something he normally does when he’s spreading all the jelly like come about, “nothing there.”

“This is weird, where'd it all go? And why haven’t you, you know?” Steve feels for himself, running two fingers gently along Eddie’s slit, pushing in to part him the tiniest bit, Eddie makes a breathy little noise as Steve pulls away, “you sure you came?”

“Steve,” Eddie replies flatly, pulling his pants up and buttoning them.

“Right right it’s just...weird, right?”

Eddie shrugs, “makes it easy?”

“Yeah...don’t look a gift horse in the mouth I guess, considering we now have to go out there and face everyone.”

Eddie grins, “I like that they know.”

“Of course you do,” Steve sighs, fixes his hair in the mirror, and opens the door.

It’s after midnight; Eddie’s birthday is officially over. All the kids have gone home with Hopper and Joyce, and before everyone else heads home, since it’s Christmas, they’re going to exchange gifts now.

Steve had been, mildly mortified after they came out of the bathroom, not really wanting to face Joyce's raised eyebrows or the girls giggling...Eddie however, has been strutting around like a proud peacock, so Steve hasn't been feeling too ashamed about the whole thing. He is however, glad of the distraction of the gifts.

All the gifts are stacked under the tree, and Steve has been voted to distribute. A lot of the labels have been made from cut up magazine letters so that the hand writing won’t be recognized; to Steve they vaguely look like ransom threats.

They go around the room, opening their gifts one at a time, trying to guess who got them. They mostly work it out. Steve isn’t that interested in his own; he’s more interested in what Eddie got. The box is actually kind of heavy, and it’s pretty big.

Eddie opens it happily, pulling out a record that Steve knows he’s wanted for ages. And then...a denim jacket with no sleeves that Steve knows he was eyeing at the thrift store. Steve watches with mounting suspicion as Eddie pulls out a book he's talked about. The box, now Steve’s thinking about it, is wrapped with very familiar wrapping paper.

“Eddie, you got loads, they definitely didn’t stay on budget. Who got Eddie? Steve, was it you?”

“No, no it wasn’t me,” Steve quietly chuckles to himself. He half listens as Robin goes around the room, and every single person denies getting Eddie.

“Whoever pulled your name must know you pretty well, huh Baby? They got you exactly what you wanted.”

“Yup,” Eddie grins happily.

“Steve, come on, it must have been you, it wasn’t any of us.”

Steve just shakes his head in denial before turning back to Eddie, “baby...it’s kind of against the rules to pull your own name.”

Eddie frowns, “no it isn’t,” the whole room erupts into laughter around them.

Steve tries to clear up some of the aftermath, but it’s nearly two in the morning and he can’t be fucked really. He collapses on the couch, finishing his now warm flat soda. He can hear Eddie pottering, “we should go to bed!” Steve calls. He’s not loud, not much above speaking volume really, but he knows Eddie will hear him.

“Can we do our gifts now?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

“Sure Baby, if you want to. We’re going to be out most of the day tomorrow anyway,” they’re spending Christmas with the Hopper-Byers brigade, and Steve is kind of looking forward to it. Eddie’s second ever Christmas.

Steve heads off to his hiding place in one of the spare rooms to get Eddie’s gifts, Eddie does the same; Steve knows his are stashed out in the utility.

He’s been pretending not to know.

“Okay, me first,” Eddie says, sitting and pulling out what Steve knows is the record. Steve eyes the gift he has from Eddie; just the one, but it’s fairly big looking. Square. Steve has no idea what it could be.

Eddie likes the record; he absolutely loves the book of Metallica tabs and almost leaves to get his guitar right there and then, but Steve stops him, “tomorrow baby. We really need to sleep after this.”

Eddie laughs at himself and his own excitement, agreeing. When he opens his final gift, the guitar pick necklace, he puts it on immediately and swears he loves it so much he’s never going to take if off. Steve’s glad to hear it, even if it makes him feel, momentarily, a little weirdly possessive.

“Okay, this first,” Eddie pulls over the box, “Chrissy helped me,” he admits as Steve unwraps it, carefully pulling out the frame inside. It’s wrapped in soft packing paper, and Steve pulls that away to reveal his crown. It’s been artfully arranged behind the glass, all dried now, the tufts of grasses stand tall, still twined up with all the little flowers that Eddie had included. Clearly someone spent a very long time carefully setting it out, and it looks beautiful. Steve had carefully stored it away in a shoebox, so he hadn't even noticed it was gone. He’s...touched, by the memory of them in the woods around Hopper’s cabin. Eddie had told Steve he loved him for the first time not long after.

“Thank you...it’s so thoughtful. Thank you. I can hang this up and remember it forever, I love it.” Eddie smiles, slipping off the couch to kneel in front of Steve. Steve sets the frame down.

Eddie pulls a little velvet box out of his pocket, “I didn’t understand what it meant,” he starts slowly, “when you put this on me,” he lifts his left hand, rubbing at the ring with his thumb. “I didn’t know what being engaged was, or weddings or...any of it. I didn’t know, but you loved me anyway, and I’ve never taken it off,” Steve swallows thickly, he knows, he knows in his bones where this is going, but he lets Eddie speak. If Eddie’s saying so may words in one go, it means he’s really thought about, and Steve won’t interrupt him. “But I know now. I understand all of it, and I know I’m a guy, and...we can’t get married, but I...wanted to show you that I know. I know now, and I love you too.”

Eddie opens the box, it’s a simple silver band, thicker than Eddie’s but still, it matches. Steve isn’t sure he’d be able to speak, his eyes already feel wet, so he silently holds his hand out for Eddie to slide the ring on; it fits perfectly.

Steve feels like he’ll crack open if he tries to talk about what he feels right now, it’s too big, too much, “you measured my finger didn’t you. Before the mall? So sneaky.”

Eddie nods, his own eyes looking suspiciously misty, smiling and biting at his lip, clearly nervous, “do you like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I love it, thank you. I love you.”

Eddie smiles, sitting up for a kiss, “love you, too.”

[reverieblondie]

Surprise Guest

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some dry humping, language, and self indulgent to the max.

Summary: Your brother Bucky invites a guest to spend Christmas with your family... you should have known it was Steve and that old feelings would come back up...

A/N: Hello, This is my first time writing for Steve and I would like to thank @buck-star for showing me their wonderful Fluffy Winter Event! Now if you are used to my BG3 content, this might be a bit different. But I love Steve so please don't judge! The heart wants what the heart wants. If you are new to my writing hi! hope you enjoy and if you have any ideas for Steve (or Chris Evans characters) just ask!

Tropes: Brothers Best Friend, Baking together, Dancing.

Word count: 6,469.

"Bucky's bringing a mystery guest? What, is it some new girlfriend?" 

You tease, watching as your mother picks up your brother's old childhood room, fussing over the bedding and ensuring everything is still just as he left it. The only changes made are the sublet Christmas decorations to make the room appear more festive. She also kept your room in the same state when you left for college; it was like a time capsule every time you two came home for the holidays. 

"Well, from my understanding, it's supposed to be some kind of surprise for us?" She says as she brushes the nonexistent dust from the curtains.

Scrunching your face and piercing your lips, you try to think about who Bucky could be bringing. It's no surprise Bucky is bringing a guest; he always seemed to bring home a stray or two when he came around for the holidays. Sometimes, it was girlfriends to meet Mom or friends from college, like Sam, who had spent last Thanksgiving with your family. But it's supposed to be a surprise… so it would have to be a girlfriend, right? 

You end up just shrugging your shoulders. As long as Bucky didn't bring anyone that would make the holiday awkward, you really didn't care who was coming around. 

Hours later, you're all still waiting for Bucky and the mystery guest to show up. Dad was asleep in his recliner as you and Mom wrapped presents while sharing memories from past Christmases. Fond memories flooded as you thought of the play fighting you and Bucky would always get into and the delicious sweets you would make with Mom. But the best part was just getting to see your family and making more memories with each other.  

During your trip down memory lane, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, and you definitely didn't hear your brother sneaking up behind you. You did, however, feel when he suddenly squeezed you in a tight bear hug, making you scream. 

Embarrassed at being spooked, you turn around and see that it's just Bucky laughing at your reaction. The panic you felt turns into elation as you hug your brother, "You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!"  

Bucky laughs before ruffling your hair, "Wow, language Goober, we have a guest." 

Ah, yes, the guest! You let go of Bucky and finally look towards the door, expecting to see an excited girlfriend, but when you look, your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Filling the doorway with a massive form was the surprise guest…tall, blonde, cute... Steve Rogers? 

Blue eyes watch you intently as he stands holding what you assume to be his and Bucky's bags. You're still not even convinced it's him until you fully take in all the features of his face, full lips, nice nose, and sweet smile that shows off his cute dimples and perfect teeth. Holy shit, that is Steve.

Mom rushes up with a squeal when she sees Bucky. The loud squealing finally jerks your father awake from his snoring as he looks at what his wife could be screaming at. He seems to relax when he sees she's just fussing over Bucky like always. Usually, you would be messing with Bucky at this moment, teasing him about being late and being a mama's boy, but your focus has gone to the elephant or, well, the big bulky guy shaking your father's hand. 

It's been years since you last saw Steve. Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to your lips as what feels like a storm floods your gut. You didn't mean to be staring at Steve, but you feel as if you're in shock. Of course, as you're staring, his eyes leave your fathers to return to you. He smiles at you, and it almost looks like he's about to approach before an excited, pitched scream from your mother has him startled and shooting a wide-eyed look at her.

Her excitement leaves your ears ringing as she goes to Steve, giving him a hug and promptly rubberbanding him for not coming to visit sooner. Steve just fumbles out some excuses as his eyes go from her to you and back to her. Looking back at Bucky, you inch yourself closer to him before swatting his shoulder. 

"Ow! What?" He gripes. 

"You didn't think to tell us it was Steve coming over?" 

Bucky just gives you a smirk, "It was a surprise; you're surprised, right?" 

“yeah…real surprised…” you mumble under your breath.

Both of you watch as your mom continues to gush over Steve, how it's been so long, how he's so tall and different looking, what he has been up to. All questions you wanted to ask yourself. Seeing Steve again throws you for the biggest loop, and frankly, it makes old feelings you thought died freshman year swell up. Why the hell is he here? After all this time, his face looks like some kind of sexy lab experiment gone all too right. 

"Steve, we are just so happy to see you. It's been forever. I should have guessed it would have been you! Right, honey, we should have guessed!" Your mom throws her eyes towards you to see you with confused glare. "Sweetie? Aren't you going to say hi? It's Steve. Isn't that incredible!"

Some might think it's unbelievable… 

Plastering an awkward smile to your face, you give a slight wave, "Hi Steve." 

"Hey, Scout, it's nice to see you again; it's been a while." A smile is stretched on his full lips as he calls you his old nickname, you haven't heard in forever. You almost forgot how he always called you Girl Scout for running around with him and Bucky playing army and then baking cookies afterward. You hated that nickname before, but now that you think about it, the name fits. 

There is a silence as your family watches the lukewarm reunion. Finally, your mom is moving over to you with a wide grin. "I don't think you're going to have to compare heights with him anymore." -Why is she bringing that up… 

You may have had an obnoxious habit of every time Bucky would bring Steve over, you would stand next to him to compare heights. At first, it was just your little secret. You would be behind his back to make sure you weren't getting too tall too fast, but then it became a game. Steve was always a good sport about it, and you always hoped you wouldn't become taller than him. But now, as you look at his 6'2 stature, it's clear that fear wouldn't happen. 

"I'll stand still so we can double-check," Steve chimes in, "It is kind of a tradition, Scout. What do you say?" Your mom looks expectantly as Bucky just gives Steve a quick pat on the back before sneaking off to the kitchen. You walk over to Steve, keeping your eyes steady on his, finding it hard not to roam your eyes down over his broad build. Okay, maybe you did seek a glance down his tight shirt, screaming across his chest, which leads to what you're sure is an impeccable abdomen and narrow waist. God, even his thighs underneath his jeans just look perfect to sit on. -Shit!

Burying down some horny thoughts, you stand in front of Steve, who now towers over you. From this close, you see that he's still every bit as cute (maybe even more handsome…), And he smells of that same musk you have come to recall so well, just this time there is just a hint of spruce. Steve has a smirk on his lips as he looks down at you, "Looks like you never got taller than me." he whispers as you judge your height with your hand; he's a whole head taller than you, maybe more. 

Your cheeks flare with a blush that you're sure is reaching your ears. You look at his face, your eyes immediately going to his smiling lips, and those memories of that night in that lonely hallway come rushing back. Why is it equally wonderful to see him and make your stomach twist into a sicky storm? 

"You're so tall now…" is all you can seem to answer, making Steve chuckle even more and you wish the ground would swallow you up ‘You're so tall now’ yeah no shit!

Finally, you're able to slip out an excuse completely modified at how you're turning into such a flustered schoolgirl! Steve stutters some kind of goodnight after you as you make your way up the stairs; turning back, the last thing you see is a concerned-looking Steve watching you. 

You're quick to rush past all the Christmas decorations and tuck yourself away into your room, leaning your back against the door and doing what you found yourself not doing when you were so close to Steve: Breathe. 

Steve Rogers, honestly, of course it's Steve. You should have considered it sooner since he's been your brother's best friend for years! He's so different now. He was as thin as a pin the last time you saw him. Now he's a total beefcake, and those fluttering feelings of a crush you thought were tamped down years ago are bubbling forward. 

Steve was always a good friend, not only to your brother but to you and your family. Now that you think about it, he was always just a good person? He always defined your brother no matter what and would always help anyone in need. He was bullied and teased when you knew him, but that never stopped him from voicing his opinion and standing up for what was right. Sure, it often ended up with Steve with a busted lip and Bucky pummeling the bully, but you couldn't help but admire his courage and willingness to help people and his kindness.

A sigh slips from your chest… Steve's kindness… he really was kind, sometimes confusing, but ultimately kind…

During the winter dance, you still remember all the beautiful snowflakes in the air and the way the silver tinsel shined under the sparkling lights. It was a tradition that the school put on a Dance before winter break. As a jaded Senior, Bucky wasn't as impressed, but you, as a freshman, were beyond excited. You had saved for new heels, Mom helped you pick the perfect dress, and you even managed to somehow get a date! There was no way this night was going to be ruined! 

The night did not go as planned. 

Your new heels you got on sale? Snapped. The new dress you got? Ruined when someone ran into you with a full glass of punch. And your date? Your oh-so-wonderful date? He left to dance with some flirty junior…

Now, here you are, sitting on the floor outside of the dance, trying not to cry in the dark hallway. You listen to the music, just waiting until you finally hear the last song end. Then you can walk home with Bucky and Steve and forget about this embarrassing night. As if it were fate, a nearby door swings open, and who do you see? Steve Rogers.

Steve looks at you, and his jaw tenses; he immediately turns to go back into the dance to find and try to beat up your ex-date. Before he can, however, you're standing up and quickly grabbing Steve by the sleeve. Steve, being Steve, of course, pauses per your request, but you can tell he didn't want to. 

Steve sits on the floor as you talk about your series of unfortunate events.

"So, how did you figure out I was out here?" 

"When I saw your date dancing with Suzy, it kind of clued me in..." There was a short pause before Steve looked at you confused.

"Why did you even say yes to that idiot?"

Of course, that made you laugh before you shrugged, "I don't know. I think that I was just excited to be asked…" 

Steve nods in understanding, "If that's the case, then I should have asked you." 

You feel butterflies when he says it, and when you turn to look at him, he's looking forward with a noticeable blush. Dammit, he's cute.

As you sit there with Steve, the announcement of the final dance is made, and as you gather your courage to ask him to dance, Steve beats you to the question, "Dance with me?" he asked so quietly, almost like a whisper…

You smile, "I thought you didn't dance?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to dance with you."

"But I don't have shoes."

Steve just looks over at you with a warm smile before he stands, reaching his hand down towards you. "Then I guess you won't be taller than me." You bite your bottom lip as you take his hand, letting you get up. You look into his beautiful blue eyes, "I'm only an inch shorter than you and still growing." 

Steve carefully places your hand on his shoulder before placing his hand on your waist, "Then let me enjoy this while I'm still tall enough to lead."

As the song goes, you dance with Steve, loving how he slightly stumbles and needs to look down at his feet every couple of paces. It's not until you move both his hands to your hips and wrap your arms to hug around his neck that the tension leaves him, and you can sway together in harmony. As you lean your head down to his shoulder, you take in his scent and surprising warmth.

"Thank you, Steve..." you whisper in his ear, Steve chuckles for a moment, his hands seeming to tighten slightly.

"I just wish I was a better dancer... for you." 

"Well, I think that this is perfect." You look into his ocean eyes, "That you're perfect." His cheeks flush red as he smiles clearly not used to the complements. 

You take the time to trace over his handsome features like you have so many times before, but instead of your staring being secret, Steve's eyes stay on you before they flick down your lips. Your heartbeat races, and you can feel yourself blushing redder. Caught, he quickly looks back into your eyes, but that's when you lean in, moving to play with the golden hair at the nape of his neck. 

Swallowing, Steve focuses his eyes on your lips as he places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"Steve... please…"

"Y-You Sure?"

"Yes." That's all you had to say as you closed your eyes and felt Steve take your first kiss. His full lips started sweet and shy before you felt the feeling of his tongue timidly asking for permission to push past your lips. As soon as you let him in and his tongue brushes against yours, he pulls away.

Steve looks at you guilty before he backs away. "I gotta go... tell Bucky I said goodbye."

"Steve, wait!"

But as the song ended, Steve was already gone... leaving with your first kiss and leaving you completely confused.

Thinking back on the memory makes you groan as you go over to your bed, plopping down with a thump. Who the hell kisses someone then leaves! Were you bad at it? Damn you, Steve Rogers, you fucking nerd! That stormy feeling of rejection starts to bloom within your chest. Was it rejection? It felt like it... and after the kiss, things were different. He didn't come around as much, and then he graduated.

Now he's back, tall, and still so cute. Who are you kidding? Steve looks downright sexy, and it isn't even fair! People are not supposed to get hotter like that! Steve looks like he's been living at the gym while your acne just cleared up. And from what you have seen from him tonight, he's still just as charming and lovely…

oh, universe, tho, are such a cold bitch...

The following day hits you like a ton of bricks. You feel as if you didn't get one wink of sleep last night. Dreams ranging from memories to fantasies have kept you from getting any rest. Sighing, you roll out of bed and maybe put on just a little bit of makeup... - Just to look less tired, not for any other reason…

Finally, you make it downstairs, rounding your way over to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee wafs through the air. The sight looks like one from a Christmas card, with the garland hanging from the window and the Christmas-themed tea towels everywhere. Then there's Mom making a frantic list of last-minute needs, Bucky checking his phone, and Steve? Oh, Steve. He stands drinking his cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to go from tired to bright as soon as they lock with yours.

You chime out a good morning as you enter the room. Mom and Bucky mutter out a grody morning in response. 

“Good morning Scout, Coffee?” Steve says in what seems like anticipation and you just give him a small nod and a yes please as you walk to see what your mom is scratching away at. 

Looking over her shoulder as you sit confirms your thought that she needs last-minute things. As soon as you sit, a mug of fresh coffee is placed in front of you, with cream and sugar to follow. Looking up, you see Steve looking down at you with that same kind smile. 

Dammit, he's still so sweet…

"Such a gentleman..." your mom says almost teasingly. Yes, mom, you know! She gives you an expectant look, and all you can do is roll your eyes. 

"Last-minute list? I thought last year you said you were never shopping on Christmas Eve again?" she sighs, ripping the paper from the pad. “Unfortunately, some things can't be helped. So while me and your brother are at the store, you, my favorite daughter, will do the baking."

"I'm your only daughter."

"Jury is still out on that." Bucky snarks

Rolling your eyes, you discreetly shoot Bucky the bird that he fakes being insulted by. Though as soon as mom looks up you two are going back to being civil. . 

"What am I making this year?"

"Your wonderful Chocolate pie and Steve has requested Chocolate Chip Cookies." The request makes you give Steve a pointed look. He quickly turns away, making a fake whistle. You swear if he has only come back for your cookies, you don't care how big he is; you will throw him off the roof.

With the plans set Bucky slides out from his chair pocketing his phone, "Alright, Steve, let's get ready to go."

"Actually, I was going to hang back and give a hand with the baking." -what? 

"She would love that! So kind!" Your mom beams -excuse me? 

"Yeah, maybe you can help her keep the pies in one piece this year." Bucky snickers, teasing at the fact that every year, the pie always has a missing slice by morning. Bucky suspects it's you, considering you made it. You think it's Bucky, but nobody truly knows the truth. 

"I'm not the pie thief you are," you say, pushing Bucky with your elbow. Of course, Bucky isn't just going to take that… so he shoves you back, and the sibling bickering starts. 

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Am Not!" 

"Are Too!" 

"Shut up!" Mom is quick to end the immature argument, but it doesn't stop you and Bucky from sticking your tongues out at each other—very mature.

"You, desserts, Bucky, with me, Steve, I'm sorry." With that, Buck and Mom are gone to do late shopping, leaving you and Steve alone in the kitchen.

It's quiet for a minute before Steve finally turns to you with a wide smile. "Just tell me what to do, Scout. You're in charge."

Ah, so you're leading now.

Grabbing the recipe book, you quickly flip through the pages until you find the right one. With a smile, you shove the book into his large hands. Steve doesn't even seem fazed as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"Chocolate pie, it's foolproof."

Steve cocks his head to the side, "Foolproof? Ouch, Scout." 

"Don't pretend to be offended. I've heard you and Bucky call each other much worse."

Steve steps closer to you, “I don’t know you seem to have a bit of meanness in you know, I saw you give him the middle finger.” Steve tsk his lips and you wince, of course he saw that…  

Not backing away from a challenge, you get even closer—so close you can smell the coffee off his breath. “Well Steve; you haven't seen me in a long time. I guess it only makes sense that I changed."

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as he looks over the recipe but keeping your little game going, "Don’t worry I plan on figuring that out while I'm here." 

“Figuring out what?" you say crossing your arms and popping out your hip, Steve's eyes move to you as they roam slowly over your body, then he smirks.  

"If you're still as sweet as I remember..." The way it just rolls off his tongue is so Sinful. Sure, he's still sweet, but now he's seemed to learn how to flirt. And with how your cheeks heat up from his words, you might be in trouble for falling even more for him.

Instead of quipping back, you just turn away and start gathering the ingredients you need. Trying desperately to ignore the budding tension. Baking in a kitchen with a handsome man can create its own kind of testion. But baking alone in a kitchen with an attractive man you once shared a first kiss with, now that tension could be cut with a knife. 

Time passes as you two continue to silently bake, you wish the teasing had not ended so abruptly because now you are coming up with all the best comebacks, figures…

Turning your head over your shoulder, you watch Steve cut up the chocolate bricks in fine flakes. His large hands are coated in chocolate, and watching his muscles tense and move with the quick movements of the knife is mouthwatering… 

Steve turns to look at you and gives you a soft smile. Quickly, you move your eyes to the cookie mix you're putting together, trying to seem like you are totally not staring at him, imagining how sweet his chocolate-coated fingers would be in your mouth. Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to ground yourself in reality for a moment; you're in your parent's kitchen with your brother's best friend; this is not the time to be thinking horny thoughts.  

While lost in your internal struggle, you feel a large hand placed on your hip; The hand is gripping tightly making warmth instantly shooting tingles down your spine. Looking up, you see Steve reaching for a bowl that is very conveniently placed in the cabinet above you. His cologne invades your senses, and you can't be too mad about it. Also, the subtle way he's pushing and leaning on you is making his crotch rub against your ass, either he knows exactly what he's doing or doesn't care to give you any personal space. You imagine it's the latter. 

Once he's retrieved the bowl his breath is fanning against your ear, and his velvet voice numbs your mind to mush: " Sorry, Scout. I needed to grab a bowl." Oh, he's toying with you. 

Finding your grip on reality, you take your bowl of cookies and push yourself out of Steve's sexy radiance. "Next time, ask, huh?" 

You move over to the mixer and start mixing up the dough. You hear Steve clear his throat over the mixture. Looking over your shoulder again, you see his broad frame diligently mixing the filling over the stove. You hate how much you enjoy looking at him and his cute butt…

"Are you worried I'm messing up the mixing?" he calls over his shoulder. You quickly turn around and add the chocolate chips to the fluffy dough.

"Like I said... foolproof, I'm not worried." You say, trying to sound confident.

"So there's another reason why you're staring at me this whole time?" Does he have eyes in the back of his head!?

"I wasn't-"

"Don't even try it," Steve warns as he finally pours the chocolate mix into the pie crust and puts it in the oven to bake. Finally, he turns to face you, Crossing his massive arms in front of him. "I've felt your eyes on me this whole time." 

Shit... Returning to your mixer, you do your old faithful tactic when you don’t want to answer a question, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

You hear a groan thinking you have won but then there's a small sigh, "I know you're mad at me..." 

That makes you pause. Mad at him? Were you mad at him? Part of you was for awhile but when you really think about it now you're more confused than anything. You take a deep breath and finally say the one thing you had thought about most after that kiss. 

"You don't just kiss someone and then run away you know." 

You finally turn and see that you have Steves full attention, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know." he finally gets out.

"Then why did you-"

"I kissed you at the wrong time..." That throws you for a loop. Steve's blush makes the tips of his ears bright red as he continues." You were... lonely and sad..." 

It's your turn to interrupt, "Steve Rogers, did you pity kiss me?" 

Steve's eyes widen as he quickly reaches for you but holds off, "No! No, it was a real kiss... for me, it was a real kiss."

"What do you mean? That kiss felt real to me, I mean, it was my first kiss..." 

You feel yourself wanting to put up your guard but before you can you feel Steve's hands gently sliding up and down your arms before moving to your shoulders carefully brushing away your hair, "I want it to be better. To be right.” Steve's blue eyes look so softly down at you and you feel ensnared all over again. You lean in, and it feels all so familiar. When his hand comes to your cheek and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, “When I kiss you again, you will know what I mean..." 

God, you want him to kiss you again,

”When?” You question. 

Steve leans in, his breath fanning over your lips, “How else will I know if you taste as sweet as you did that night..” 

You feel like you're melting as you close your eyes, the memories of his tongue tasting like peppermint making you crave it now. You rise to your tiptoes as Steve's arms curl around you,  but before you can do anything, the oven's timer is going off. 

Both of you jump before frantically looking for the oven mitts, running into each other as you reach for the oven. Finally, you two get the stove open and pull the pan out at the same time. It's so frantic and excessive you both can't help but laugh as you hold the pie.

"What are you two doing?" The sudden voice of bucky practically scares the crap out of you. 

Steve looks at his friend then just cocks his head, “Baking, obviously.” 

Bucky, ever clueless, just shakes his head as he puts bags of groceries away, you can not believe you almost kissed him again! And almost got caught. You take the pie and place it down to get cooled off. As you turn you run into your mother who is looking at you confused, you think for a moment she's trying to read your mind but then she places her cold hands to your cheeks. 

“Steve, what did you do to my girl? She looks flushed?” 

Steve just chuckles as he helps with the groceries, “I think she was standing too close to the oven, making her get hot.” 

You give him an unamused look, he knows what made you hat and it wasn't a damn oven. 

Hours later, long after you and Steve had finished the desserts, after sitting with your Mom and watching the same Christmas movies you did every year (though this year you might have been distracted…) and going to bed, you find that you're still tossing and turning thinking about Steve; what does he mean when he kisses you again… is he going to? You almost did, but then your family walked in… Will he have the chance? And what does he mean you taste sweet!

2am, and you're still thinking about him; years later, he can still rile you up and keep you second-guessing. Just is not fair, damn hot people…

Not seeing any end to your torment, you decide it's time for the perfect late-night medicine: a sweet treat. Making your way down to the kitchen as quietly as possible, you find the Christmas-themed Tupperware stashing the cookies and take one. The sweetest is only a temporary relief to your racing mind, however. Further trying to distract yourself, you open the fridge, checking the pie, making sure it's still intact, and it is. 

When you close the fridge, you lazily look around the dimly lit room till you see Steve in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Seriously, universe… 

"Looks like Bucky is right; you are the pie thief." 

"I was just checking on it, not eating it." 

Steve steps into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and gets himself a cookie as well. You decide to join in, your minds already filled with him. What's the harm? 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

"I thought I heard a pie theft." he taunts, making you chuckle, but it dies off quickly, and that same tension starts piling up again. 

"I was up thinking about you," Steve suddenly admits, "Thinking back on that night…" 

"The night you ran off with my first kiss?" You say it more bitterly than you meant it, but Steve doesn't seem to flinch. 

"I had thought of kissing you a long time before then," he confesses, warming your cheeks. 

"Why didn't you?" 

Steve doesn't look at you while he shrugs his mind on the past, "One, there's an unspoken rule about best friends, sisters, and… I didn't feel good enough, scrawny punk kissing a beautiful, kind girl like you. Thought you would have been modified. Then at the dance when we danced together… you called me perfect. Girls would have never thought to say that, but you did, and I just couldn't help it. When I kissed you, I knew it was wrong, and then I ran, which was even more messed up."  

Steve ends his confession by turning to you with a smile, "I screwed it up," 

You two sit silently, looking out the window into the dark, snowing night, "If you messed it up, why come back?" 

"I was hoping for a second chance, but… when I saw how mad you were and when we interrupted it… it kinda brought me back to reality, shook me and my plan up…" 

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, "Your plan?" 

You see, Steve blushes, "Charm you, and I hope I get to do it right this time…" 

Your laugh was involuntary. You couldn't believe that after all this time, he wanted a do-over. Steve Rogers, you are the biggest dork, and you love it. He looked embarrassed at you, laughing at his confession, but then you stood from your chair and reached down towards him. "Well? How are you going to charm me sitting down? This is your last chance, Steve. Don't blow it."

Steve grabs your hand, standing to his towering height, "What's the first step in the plan, Steve? I'll let you lead."  

"First…" Steve steps closer, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands to hide purchase on your fuzzy pajama bottom hips. "We sway just like that night." 

The two of you start to sway in that same slow dance, and though there is no music, you both know which one is playing in your mind as you move in perfect rhythm. Your hands move from his soft hair to slide down to his chest, where you feel his heart racing through his bare chest. He watches you intently before carefully bringing you to press against his warm body. You can no longer tuck your head into his neck, so you lean into his chest. Steve pauses, and you feel him bring his hand to your cheek, having you look up at him. 

"Second, I will tell you how I think you're the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met and how, for years, I have thought of you." 

You bite your lip as you look into his blue eyes, which reflect the colors of the Christmas lights. "When's the part where you kiss me?" you say, a tad breathless. 

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at their flushed color, "That's step three after I ask…" 

"Steve, kiss me before I lose my mind and pummel you." 

That was the exact invitation Steve was waiting for because the next thing you know, he's leaning down and kissing your lips slowly. His hands cupped your cheeks before sliding back down to your waist, his mouth carefully guiding you. It's just as sweet and warm as the first time, but now, with how he moves his lips gently with yours, you can tell he's practiced. Rising your toes, you wrap your hands around his neck and swipe your tongue against his lips, begging for them to part. Once they do, you slip your tongue to taste his. A slight grunt leaves his throat as his hands tighten -Yeah, you learned some things last time. 

Steve slides his hands down your body to find purchase on your ass, giving a squeeze and forcing a moan from you in the process before he lifts you up and places you on the contour. Breaking the kiss, he looks at your red face, catching your breath, "taste sweet.." he mumbles before tilting your head up to leave open-mouth kisses on your neck. 

The feeling of his burning tongue swiping at your sensitive skin has you tightening your thighs to try to ease your aching clit that's begging to feel him closer. As he's licking and marking your skin with reckless abandonment, your hands are pawing and tugging at his soft hair. Holding on to dear life, his head goes lower and lower, passing your collarbone. This must be that real kiss he talked about before. 

Your wandering hands meet the prominent bulge pressed against your leg; softly touching the hardness makes Steve pause as he softly moans into your neck. 

"Steve.." His lips kiss your neck slowly as he spreads your thighs, moving in between them. 

"Yes, baby… what do you want? Anything you want..." he says into your skin, making you shiver as his lips caress your sweet spot. 

You feel his bulge finally press against your covered cunt, and you can't help but gasp, "I want to feel you…" you finally tremble out as you move your hips slowly over him, grinding on his cock. 

Steve watches you in awe for a moment before he's repositioning himself and rocking his hips so the nip nudges your clothed clit over and over. Part of you think this might be a delicious dream; there is no way you're actually dry-humping with Steve on your kitchen table in your parent's house, is there? But when his fat tip teases your clit again, making your toes curl, you know this is a dream, this is real, and you don't care. You need him now. 

You're about to shimmy out of your bottoms and pull Steves down as well,  but the sound creaking of the stairs has you both snapping back to reality. The reality is your hands are about to pull down your pants while Steve has a huge tending boner, and you're on the kitchen table; if caught, there is no explaining that one. So quickly, you're hopping off the table and eagerly pulling Steve to hide in the kitchen's pantry with you. Safely hidden, you and Steve peer through the panty's louvered door to see who is ruining your late-night treat. 

Tiptoeing through the kitchen, you see your father making his way to grab a fork and then going to the fridge. Unbelievable. You owe Bucky an apology.

"That sneaky little—" Before you can finish whispering, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you, his length pushing against you. Turning around carefully, you face him. Only the light streaming in illuminates his face, and you can just see that affection filling his eyes. 

Steve gently kisses your lips again, finding them way too easy in the dim dark. His hands curl around your waist, and his head rests in the crook of your neck. His warm breath makes you melt all too quickly. 

"Scout, I've liked you for so long…" he says into your neck. 

Cuddling him closer, you're about to confess your feelings, those feelings that you had from the moment you met him. Then, the pantry door opens, and you meet your father's shocked expression. His daughter is hiding in the pantry with tousled hair, and her brother's best friend, who is shirtless, is embracing each other. Not a great look…

Eyes going wide as you push yourself away from Steve, trying to fix your hair. Steve clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back towards your father, trying in vain to hide his prevalent bulge. Starting to fumble out an excuse, you're stuttering and panicking for an explanation, but your father is slowly shutting the door before you can even get out a syllable.   

You stare at the Shut door in shock. "He's so going to blab to my mother," you groan.

Back in the darkness, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you. "Would that be so bad? She has been hinting about us getting together."

"Bucky is going to kick your ass."

Steve kisses your neck again, quickly learning where to tease you with his soft lips. "That's fine if you agree. Come out with me for New Year's." Turning, you press your cheek to his chest, cuddling closer. 

"Can we go dancing?

Steve Chuckles as he kisses your head and holds you tighter, says, "We can do whatever you want. I want to make up for lost time."

"Better late than never."

[messenger-of-babel]

Three Year's the Charm

Summary: You're nervous to make yourself known as Bruce's partner at his annual winter gala. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 1.4K

Notes: Please see the note attached to the Christmas Masterlist! Due to unforseen circumstances I've had to slow and put a pause entirely for some places. I'm going to try and double posts when I can. Much love and Merry Christmas!

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Christmas was supposed to be a time of peace, of getting together with family and friends. To open presents in front of a roaring fireplace, to eat baked treats with festive drinks. 

Your Christmas was shaping up to be wildly different. Sips of alcohol or eggnog made you more nervous as you watched guests pile in, filling the foyer of the manor.

This year’s tree was magnificent, covered in blue and silver and stretching to the ceiling of the ballroom. You had watched Alfred give harsh instructions to the workers setting it up, standing at the top of the stairs like a foreman till it was perfect. Bruce had told you it was his pride and joy each year, and it was better to not get involved when Alfred was tasked with decorating the tree. The year before Alfred had often for a beautiful golden look, and the year before had been a wonderful red and white combination.

This was like any other Wayne Christmas Gala, (you had attended three so far) except this time, you were going to be introduced on the arm of THE Bruce Wayne, the namesake and host of the entire thing.

While you two had been in the talking phase Bruce had an excellent handle on his public image, and any paparazzi that managed to steal a snap from you was unable to locate it when they went to work the next day. You relationship had been reduced to his hand on your thigh when you went for late night drives, or even later romps in the back of his car with tinted windows. Stolen kisses normally held behind the enormous Christmas tree once all the guests had gone were now to be on display for all to see, and more accurately, for every glare. 

You weren’t a stranger to the way that the public cast looks to every supermodel, reporter, and actress that had been on the playboys arm over the years. You had seen the snide glares and haughty stares afforded to his partners, and you know that once you walked down those steps on his arm you’d be next. 

When you feel him step behind you, warm palm on the hand of your back, you tense. “You’re worried.” He murmurs, voice low as he scans the ballroom below. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You cast your eyes back. “It’s hard to not be. I’ll be torn apart by angry women and billionaire men alike. What a Christmas.” You mutter back. 

“It won’t be so bad, baby, I promise.” He says, moving his hand in circles to try and sooth you. “But if you prefer we can-“

“No.” You sigh. You had thought about that all day and had been half tempted to ask him to call it off. But you couldn’t.

In The early years of your relationship you didn’t mind being a secret, knowing that Bruce wished he didn’t have to keep you out of the light either. Yet as they wore on and you fell for him more, you got selfish. You wanted him to yourself.

So even if it came with the stares and made the pit of dread coil in your stomach, there was still the part of you that wanted to be with him down there under those Christmas lights.

“I want this.” You say softly. “I mean, I want to be with you. Properly.” You give him a small smile. “Besides, I’ve just gotten Damian to like me. I’m not going to back down at something infinitely less scary.”

Bruce gives a chuckle to that and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You really did get him to warm up, in the end.” He teases.

“I don’t know if I’d consider him warm, but he’s definitely less cold.”

“Oh come on, he shows affection.”

“Just last Tuesday he rolled his eyes in my direction and muttered something under his breath in Arabic.”

“See? He does that to me all the time too.”

“I don’t know if that’s an affectionate thing either.” You laugh, grinning wider when he lightly pecks your shoulder. His warm hands pat down your sides and you step towards the staircase yourself.

The chatter was like a low hum as Gothamites socialised below, drinks in hand as they circled the floor like well dressed sharks. “Don’t worry,” Bruce whispers, smiling softly as if to encourage you. “I’ve got you.”

With a squeeze of his hand you moved your other to the banister, steeling yourself as you both begin to descend the stairs. As if your first step set of an alarm, heads began turning your way and narrowing in on your form. Each step down, every inch down the curved staircase made conversations hush. You could feel the stares piecerce through your outfit, discoing you from the inside out.

Were you good enough for Bruce? Had they seen you before? Were you famous? What were you this time? A swimsuit model? A CEO? From old money? New money? A stray from the side of the street? An accountant on wall street?

The questions were heavy in the air, easily crushing out the Christmas spirit that the band weakly tried to keep alive. When you hit the final step and felt the smooth marble of the ballroom floor beneath you, the feeding frenzy started. They began to circle you and Bruce, smiles shining and fake.

They offered you greetings, and handshakes and smiles,  but the beating of your heart made it hard to focus on them. Silently you looked up for Bruce, and he understood what you were asking.

“Everyone,” He called into the crowd, tone charming and sly smile on his face. At the sound of their host the guests turned like dogs, focusing in on the billionaire in front of them. “I hope that everyone is enjoying the festivities, please, help yourself to the drinks and more, God knows I can pay for it.”

Theres a scattering of laughter as he jokes with them, flashing them that billionaire grin. “I want to take the time to introduce my partner here,” he looks down at you, tugging you closer to him. “No better time than Christmas, I think. So on behalf of us Waynes here,” his hand tightens around you. “and all of my sons, we wish you a very Merry Christmas.”

Theres applause after he raises his glass in a toast, and the band starts again with full force. You flick your eyes up to Bruce, who is currently studying the chattering that has spread across the guests with a smirk.

“What did you do that for?” you hiss, tugging him closer to your face. He smirks back, that boyish glint in his eye returning.

“You wanted me to fix it, darling.” He chuckles. “I did.”

“You called me a Wayne.”

“That I did.” He grins. The band starts a slow rendition of ‘Last Christmas’ and he tugs you towards his chest, feet already moving in a lazy waltz. “It’ll keep them guessing for a while. They’ll try to figure out what we are, but they’ll behave in case you’re already my spouse.” He smiles down at you, watching you follow his waltz.

“Already?” you raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head softly, lowering his head towards yours. “What do you mean already your spouse?” you ask.

“It means,” he murmurs, spinning you till you were dancing under the light of Alfred magnificent Christmas tree. “That I may have just spoiled my New Year’s surprise.” He huffs.

You study him under the LED’s, how the light flickers off the edges of his face, highlighting the contours and shadows of his skin. You raise a hand to trace them softly and he turns his cheek into your palm. This was Bruce Wayne, the man who fought for the betterment of Gotham every night. Who looked nothing but weary standing in front of you now, about to mark the end of another year.

“Merry Christmas, Bruce.” You say softly, offering him a small smile.

“Merry Christmas.” He rumbles back, eyes lighting up again. He dips his head down to press a kiss to your lips, and you can feel the corners of his mouth tilt upwards when he does.

You loop your arms around his neck, foreheads touching. You could only wonder what tree Alfred would put in the manor next year, and if once you were officially a Wayne he’d let you help choose the colours.