#these specials are the gift that keeps on giving | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

narrycherries · 2 days ago

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ivy: how’s one to know..

(enemies to lovers) harry is just an ass and (Y/n) is just a stranger

masterlist // ivy series (link coming w part 2)

word count: 8.6k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x reader, fem reader, angst

[before you start: I wrote the female character with a description (blonde, blue eyes, short, thicker build) but of course feel free to change the descriptors to whatever you prefer!]

The holiday season had wrapped up a handful of days ago and things were slowly starting to go back to normal. The sparkling strings of lights decorating neighborhoods and businesses all around the city were being taken down and shoved back in their storage boxes until the last month of the year circled around again. The weather was staying consistent, though. The gloomy overcast skies and chilly wind that whipped through the streets were enough to keep people bundled up and wishing for spring to arrive.

Most people she knew enjoyed the holidays a lot more than she did. Sure, she loved to see the colorful lights lining roofs and windows of boutiques and restaurants along the main strip. There was something so juvenile, so innocent about the giddy feeling that would fill her stomach as she saw a pile of fake presents and a decorated tree in a shop window. Somewhere deep down inside of her heart, she still had that spark that a child would have.

When she was growing up, she sought happiness during the holidays by admiring other people’s outdoor decorations or gazing in awe at the displays put up in her schools. She didn’t have what most people had that she went to school with, but she tried to be grateful, even as a young chlid, and appreciate what surrounded her.

A strong sadness was building in her chest as she slid the ceramic Santa Claus into his box to pack him away with the other Christmas decorations. She thought about the many years she questioned if Santa was real. There were so many nights when she’d squeeze her eyes shut and whisper out loud, her knees on the floor as she put her elbows into the mattress. There was so much hope in her. She believed that if she wished and prayed and dreamed enough, Santa would leave a present or two on the coffee table next to her dad’s stained coffee mug. There wasn’t a tree most of the years of her childhood, but her dad give gift her things (there was no magical Santa though). There were no twinkling lights outside of her window, hanging down from the roof with a clumsy droop. There were no ornaments to place on the branches of a fake tree, lined with a dusty skirt that would be covered with presents. There were no fresh baked cookies and steaming hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The television never displayed joyful Christmas movies and specials. The radio on the kitchen counter never once sang a tune of a wintery song about snow and ice. No, none of that. It was just her dad, her brother, and herself for a while.

“Did you keep the box for this guy?” Emma’s curious voice snapped her from her trance.

She cleared her throat and looked up from her spot on the living room rug. Her ‘new’ roommate was holding a ceramic snowman who’s decorated style matched the Santa she just put away. She reached into the plastic storage container and grabbed the box, passing it up to Emma.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, (Y/n).” She smiled back, noticing that there was a glimmer of disappoint on her face, but she didn’t mention it to her. “You didn’t have to put everything away so fast. I would’ve been fine with it for a few more weeks.”

Emma had just moved in before Christmas. Her things were half way unpacked throughout the small house they now shared.

“I didn’t want it to crowd you. Besides, Christmas is over.” (Y/n)’s tone was partially rough as she began to pack away the miniature houses placed across the console table that the television hung above.

“I’m so excited to actually be here, like, full time. Niall’s a bit upset.. but I told him he’d survive.” She said with a laugh as she started to collect the small figurines that went with the village.

“I’m excited, too. I’m glad you’re actually up for decorating the space and not just.. letting me do it all. My last roommate was not particularly outgoing.” (Y/n) snickered at the thought, knowing she wouldn’t be missing that person at all. The girl was nice and all, but she was quite boring.

“Oh, totally! I’ve already got some stuff I want to show you in my room. Maybe we could put it out here or something.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s cute.” She shot her friend a grin.

Emma wasn’t a new friend by any means. They met early on while they were both at university. Emma was actually her first partner for a project in one of their biology classes. They met on the third day of class and became friends very quickly. Their chemistry went far beyond the confines of the science lab. Emma was joyful and adventurous and offered (Y/n) that motivating spark to actually go out and have fun. Not that (Y/n) couldn’t match Emma’s energy once her veins were filled with alcohol, she just didn’t go out as much.

“Speaking of Niall, I haven’t seen him a while. How’s he doing?”

A proud smile crept to Emma’s lips. “He’s been good. But he’s been super busy with the store.. almost never get to spend time during the actual day with him.”

“But it’s going well, the store, I mean? Like he’s having success?”

Emma nodded. “It’s been great. I told him it would do good around here, especially with the college students. And besides, people are always looking for music lessons. I’m glad he took my advice and decided to offer those through the business.”

Niall was an excellent musician, or so (Y/n) has been told. She hadn’t actually seen him play anything in person, only through recordings and videos Emma had shown her. She knew Niall was talented, though. He played the guitar and the bass, both of which seemed entirely too complicated in (Y/n)’s mind. When they started dating last year, Niall was in the midst of finalizing a business plan and opening his music store. Emma told her all about it, including her fears and anxiety about the situation - but only because she was afraid Niall would get so caught up in the store that he would abandon their relationship. Niall ended up not doing that, obviously, and was able to balance everything in his life. He and Emma would be celebrating their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day - which (Y/n) thought was particularly sweet and romantic.

“I’m glad everything’s working out.”

The store opened back in the summer, and (Y/n) had only gone by once to see the place. It was in a part of town she didn’t frequent very often, so the opportunity to casually stroll in was rare. It wasn’t like it was Emma’s store. While she did know Niall well enough to refer to him as a friend, she wasn’t close with him. She was supportive, of course, but not overly involved.

“He’s coming by later to help me put together the dresser. Well.. he’s going to do it for me, not help me.” She snickered as she joined (Y/n) on the floor to start gently laying the mini figurines in a small cardboard box they knew as home.

“I can make dinner if you’d like. Niall likes that pasta I make, right?”

“Yeah! He actually asked me about that a few weeks ago. He said I have to get your recipe.” She grinned back, rolling her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend’s obsession with food.

“He’s only had it like twice.. but it’s flattering to know I’m such a good chef.” (Y/n) laughed under her breath. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on putting away the last of the decorations and moving them into the hallway closet. The box fit perfectly in the bottom of the closet. Emma disappeared into her room to continue unboxing her belongings. (Y/n) was mostly occupied with dusting the wood furniture and wiping down the kitchen. She liked a neat, tidy home and she was very glad to know that Emma did as well. She checked the cabinets to make sure she had the ingredients required for the pasta she’ll be making later on.

Every now and then, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor come from the hallway, presumably from Emma’s room. She would just giggle to herself as Emma’s dramatic cries of curses and sighs would fill the small home. Despite being friends for a handful of years, they had never lived in the same space before. Even while at university when it was mandatory for them to live on campus, they lived in different dorm buildings. Emma was in a sorority and definitely more comfortable with herself than (Y/n) was. She kept to her small dorm with her roommate, whom she didn’t have anything in common with but she was kind to her. If she were being honest, she thought Emma would try to move in with Niall once her old lease had expired. But, Niall was comfortable where he was in his apartment and he already had a roommate. As much as Emma wanted to live with him, it was just too soon anyway. They tossed around the idea, but (Y/n) mentioned to her that perhaps she needed to wait, just in case. Niall wasn’t upset with Emma’s decision to move elsewhere, as long as she was in the city close to him. (Y/n) was also informed that Niall’s roommate wasn’t too keen on letting someone else share their space. She had never met him before, didn’t even know his name, but she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her house to be permanently crowded either. Niall let Emma stay over there a lot, though, but spending the night for the weekend or on a random weekday when it was too late to drive back home was different than staying full time. And of course, Niall was allowed over whenever he wanted and she made that clear to Emma before she signed the lease. As long as he respected their home and didn’t leave a mess behind, he was welcomed.

A gentle sigh slipped past her thick lips as she trailed back to the living room. The open concept of the front of the home meant the living room was attached to the kitchen with no barrier other than the island. She sat down on the end of the couch, the damp kitchen towel she used to wipe down the furniture sat on the side table. She picked it up, along with the framed photo that was next to the pretty gold lamp. The gold of the frame didn’t quite match the lamp, but it was still beautiful to her. The ornate metal that decorated the frame was cold as she carefully rubbed the pads of her fingers over it. She stared at the photograph locked behind the glass, the speed of her heart beating increased only slightly.

The image was of her and her mother when she was around three years old. It was Halloween, she was dressed in a pink dress that was modeled after Princess Aurora, and her hair was curled and a little makeup playfully swept over her features. Her mother was dressed in a Cinderella themed costume, her matching golden blonde hair curled, too, and pinned up. It wasn’t the last holiday they spent together, but it was one of the only ones (Y/n) remembered. She doubted herself at times about the memory - she was only three and a half, did she actually remember it or was she imagining it? Despite always doubting herself, she knew too well that the memory was burned into her brain. She can remember the smell of the burning iron as her mom curled her hair. She remembers getting tickled by the fluffy makeup brush as a bit was applied to her face just to add to the illusion. She remembers the taste of the mini chocolate bar her mom unwrapped for her in the car in between neighborhoods - the night was full of trick or treating and giggles and squeals. She even remembered the way her mom’s hand carefully adjusted her curls when they got caught in the zip of (Y/n)’s costume. It was a memory she held dear to her heart, one she prayed she’d never lose. (Y/n) had always tried her hardest to find things to fill in the void of not having her mother around. But no matter how determined she was, nothing ever seemed to be enough. She found joy in little things, like collecting whatnots and trinkets that reminded her of the ones that littered her house when her mom was alive. She enjoyed searching for squirrels and birds in the park, collecting odd looking rocks during her walks, listening to her favorite songs on repeat, and a plethora of other things. But nothing could really fill the space in her heart.. It was quite a big space, after all.

That evening, after the sun nestled below the horizon and stars littered the dark winter sky, Emma invited Niall over for dinner. It was third day of actually staying here, since she opted to spend two weeks with Niall for Christmas between her parent’s place and his. (Y/n) was working on preparing the ingridents for the pasta when Niall knocked and was let in with a grinning Emma planting a kiss to his mouth. He laughed and brushed her off, not a big fan of showing affection in front of other people, even though he knew (Y/n) wasn’t watching.

“Hey, long time no see!” Niall said with a smile as he followed Emma into the kitchen.

(Y/n)’s eyes glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Niall. It’s been a while, yeah?”

“I think you guys haven’t seen each other since the day we moved my crap in.” Emma said with a slight unsure tone.

“Your crap that still isn’t unpacked.” Niall sighed as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing on his chest.

(Y/n) chuckled to herself as Emma began to give him excuses for why her things weren’t put away and in their new spots yet. The list included things like being busy with work, having errands to run, and of course ‘spending all my time with you’ that made Niall smack his lips and give her a sarcastic ‘okay, sure’.

They kept up their banter for a bit while (Y/n) rinsed her hands at the sink. She had finished everything she needed to do before actually cooking the food. When she turned towards them, Niall was peering his eyes into the pot of boiling water, frowning as he saw it was empty.

“She’s making the pasta you said you like.” Emma said as she grabbed his forearm to tug him away from the oven.

“Oh, really? That stuff was so good.” Niall’s eyes shot to (Y/n)’s. “I want a whole pot of it for my birthday, please and thanks.”

She shook her head in disbelief as a laugh rolled out of her mouth. “Isn’t your birthday in September?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just don’t want ya to forget.”

“C’mon, let's start with the dresser, Niall. Let (Y/n) cook.” Emma said after checking the time on her phone. “We’ll clean up the kitchen after dinner, okay? Don’t worry about it!”

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when it's done.”

And just like that, she was alone in the kitchen again. It didn’t bother her to be alone, she had been for most of her life, especially her late teenage and adult years. Finding something to occupy her bored mind was not a new task for her to learn. She opted for sitting at the small dining table after setting the timer on the oven in case she forgot to check the time.

(Y/n) pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and started to maneuver through the notifications that had come through since she last checked. One was a message from a random company that was offering a sale this coming weekend, there were two texts from Niall - the first asking if he needed to bring anything, the second saying Emma told him not to and to just ignore the text - the rest were random notifications from different apps.

Her attention went to her photo app as she scrolled to a few days ago, just a day or so after the New Year began. She went for a walk in the park close by one day during lunch when she had nothing else to do. She snapped a few photos of little random things, like a wild flower that had somehow managed to survive the low temperature, a bird that was perched on top of the black metal fence that lined the park, and a snapshot of the sky with the clouds parting in such a way that made it look like heaven. After having lost so much in life, she learned and forced herself to appreciate the little things that were around. Details of daily life, like the fall of a leaf to the ground or the chirp of a bird in a tree, were almost therapeutic for her.

Dinner didn’t take too long to cook, but the dresser was seeming to take much longer than Emma had expected it to. When (Y/n) knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in, she grinned as she saw Niall sitting on the floor with his head thrown back and Emma pacing the room with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her once neatly fixed dark hair was messily tied in a bun on the back of her head. The instruction booklet for the dresser was laid out in between Niall’s legs, along with a torn bag of hardwear.

“Food’s ready.” She said with a singsong voice that made Niall pop his head up.

“Finally.” He quickly rose to his feet and grabbed Emma’s wrist, tugging her behind him as they followed (Y/n) down the hall and towards the kitchen.

“Eat as much as you want, I made plenty.” She said as she let them make a bowl first.

“Don’t have to tell him twice.” Emma’s mouth shaped to a smile as Niall practically pushed her aside to be first.

“Guests eat first, right?” He joked as he gave them both a quick glance, a smirk on his face as he grabbed the serving utensil.

Once the three of them had fixed what they wanted and claimed a spot at the table, (Y/n) offered to grab everyone something to drink. Emma and herself chose a glass of ice water while Niall requested a Coke. Emma had just brought home a box this morning after her quick run to the grocery store. The food appeared to be a big hit as Niall scarfed it down, spitting out compliments and satisfied hums that made the girls giggle and roll their eyes jokingly at him.

“Em told me the store is doing great.”

Niall nodded as he sipped his drink. “Yeah, it’s been good, actually. I’m glad.”

“I’m glad you do the lessons. I told her that people are coming in pretty much all day long.” Emma said.

“Yeah, if it’s not someone who’s into music already or just curiously out shopping.. The sign about the lessons really brings people in. And even if they don’t go through with it, they end up looking around and finding something.” Niall told them with a pleased smile, he was relieved his business was staying crowded and people actually enjoyed coming to the store.

“Did you end up finding someone to teach the guitar lessons? I know Emma said something about you were looking for someone else, since you got so busy with your bookings.”

“Yeah, my roommate actually. He’s decent at guitar and he’s just working with the beginners. I’m sticking to the people who sorta know how to play around that just wanna get better.”

(Y/n) nodded as she took another bite. “That’s good.”

The cooking had made the kitchen a bit warmer than it was before, so she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. The exposure of the small tattoo on the inside of (Y/n)’s elbow caught Emma’s eye.

“Oh!” She chirped suddenly, making Niall flinch. “I forgot to tell you, (Y/n), I’m getting a tattoo in a few weeks. Already got my appointment.”

“Oh, really? Where at this time?” (Y/n) asked with genuine curiosity.

“On my foot. Just a cute little flower. Niall says it's going to hurt.”

(Y/n) squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “You don’t have any, do you?”

Niall chuckled. “No, but I’ve been told the foot is terrible.”

“I’m not a baby, Niall. It’s not my first one. Besides, Zayn said it would be fine since I’m used to the feeling.”

“Zayn is lying to you to spare your feelings and get your money. He is my friend, I think I'd know when he lies.” Niall was only teasing her, but it brought a flush to Emma’s cheeks.

“Shut up.” She mumbled through a pout.

(Y/n) was amused by their interaction, but she chose to move on with the conversation so Emma wouldn’t get too sensitive. She wasn’t over emotional or anything, but sometimes she would get embarrassed if Niall playfully taunted her in front of other people.

“Zayn.. is that the guy I met that time at the bar?” (Y/n) couldn’t remember the person’s name, but she was sort of sure that it was the same person they’re referring to.

Niall nodded to her. “Yeah. The one with all the tattoos.. I would say the one with the black hair but right now it’s platinum blonde.” The lift of Niall’s brows made her think that maybe he didn’t approve of the look, but he had no choice but to accept it.

“I thought that was the same guy. I’m pretty sure he told me he owned a shop.”

“He’s the best around.” Emma said with a laugh. “Plus.. he gives me a discount.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Niall puckered his lips and leaned her direction, demanding a kiss that he knew he wouldn’t get.

“Hush.” She pushed her fingers to his mouth and gently shoved his head back.

He laughed at her reaction. “Just saying, Em. He’s my friend.. like I said before.”

Emma ignored him and turned her eyes to (Y/n). “Anyway, Niall can’t come with me.. so I was going to see if you wanted to go.”

“I can see if I can.. just let me know the date and time.”

“Alright. I will. Niall, don’t be a pig.” She groaned as she saw he had slipped from the table and was at the stove, piling his bowl full again.

“Let him eat it. That way we won’t have to worry about leftovers.”

Emma shook her head. “He’d eat the actual house if you’d let him.”

—•—

(Y/n) was puckering her lips in the mirror of the car visor as she applied her lip balm. It was chilly outside and the weather wasn’t being kind to her skin at all. She huffed as she saw the patch of dry skin right in the middle of her forehead. She had just applied her moisturizer before they loaded in the car to drive to the tattoo shop. Emma was driving, and every now and then she’d glance (Y/n)’s way and notice she was still staring in the mirror.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asked as (Y/n) slid the cover over the mirror and flipped the visor up, her back hitting the seat as she felt defeated.

“My skin is horrible right now.” She rolled her eyes to herself, upset that it was bothering her this much. It was just a bit of dry skin and chapped lips, she shouldn’t be so affected by it.. but she was. “Even my lips are dying.”

Emma smiled. “I’m sure lots of people are struggling right now. I’ve got a dry spot on my cheek. It’s been there for a few days. Just the weather.”

“But it's annoying. Y’know my hormones are whacky sometimes.. feel like as soon as I get it under control, I break out or have something like this happen.”

“When we get home, we can look up some different products. Maybe we can find something better for seasonal dryness. My cream isn’t working either.”

(Y/n) shrugged and took out her phone to mindlessly look through one of her social media apps. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Even though the shop wasn’t too far from where they lived, Emma didn’t want to walk in the cold and she didn’t want to have to cover the tattoo with thick, tight shoes afterwards. So, (Y/n) agreed to drive back after they left, and after they grabbed some food. The shop was right around the corner, and it caught (Y/n)’s attention as they turned onto the street. It was just off the main road of the downtown area. The street was lined with different restaurants, stores, thrifting spots, boutiques, and a few law firm offices and an emergency clinic that stayed open during the weekend. She was familiar with the area, and had actually looked towards the tattoo shop’s sign plenty of times. They pulled into a spot and Emma took in a deep breath before pulling the keys out.

“Are you nervous?” (Y/n) said with an amused grin plastered over her lips as she opened the car door.

“What if Niall’s right? What if it hurts real bad?”

“You’ll be fine. You got one on your ribs and your spine. You can take it.”

Emma was still nervous as she followed (Y/n) to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, allowing Emma to slip into the building first. It was warm in the small lobby of the tattoo shop. She was unfamiliar with the specific shop, but not the reality of one. It looked like the others she had been to and the place she got her tattoos done at. The walls were dark grey and decorated with interesting pieces of artwork and posters. There were rock band posters, most of which she recognized, on the wall behind the dark wood desk that acted as a check in counter. Nobody was at the counter, though. There was a small sleek, black leather couch pressed against the side wall, above it hung a large canvas with what appeared to be an original artwork painted on to it. She saw the signature in the lower left corner and smiled as she read over the name she had heard Niall use a few weeks ago during dinner. So this Zayn character was more than just a tattoo artist? She was intrigued by the brush work on the canvas, the beauty of the image was breathtaking. The muted colors stood out oddly bold against the stark white and midnight black areas. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Although she didn’t partake in any form of art herself, she was an admirer. She enjoyed frequenting art galleries and museums and contributing to artists as much as she could. She once got a commissioned painting of a bouquet of flowers from an older woman in the area who was a somewhat known artist. The piece lives on the wall near the hall closet.

“Zayn?” Emma called out suddenly as she grew impatient with standing in the middle of the lobby.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as Emma disappeared through a door. It lead to the main tattoo room, with three different stations placed in it. The back room was Zayn’s private room that his clients were able to be secluded in. Emma knocked on that closed door and waited patiently. A few moments later, Zayn opened the door with a smile, happy to see her.

“Hi, Em.” He said, his accent thick as it rang through the small building.

(Y/n) heard them chatting, so she decided to peek through the door, a nervous smile on her face. Zayn’s eyes caught hers as he towered over Emma. He offered a friendly wave and gestured for her to join them. She nervously stepped over the threshold and swallowed gently.

“Zayn, do you remember (Y/n)? You guys met a while back.” Emma said with a gesture of her hand as (Y/n) approached them.

Immediately, she recognized his features - from his dark eyes to his nearly fully inked arms. His tattooed sleeves wrapped over his shoulders, around his neck, crept over each wrist and wiggled around his fingers. He was covered, to say the least. She could only presume the rest of him looked like that. Colorful tattoos mixed with jet black ones littered his skin. And she noticed, of course, that his hair was blond now like Niall had mentioned.

“I think so, yeah. You’re the chick Niall said could outdrink me, right?” Zayn asked with a laugh.

“I don’t drink that much.. but yeah, that’s me.”

Emma gave her a nudge of her elbow. “She can out drink anyone when she actually lets loose.”

Her eyes rolled as a smile toyed on her lips, still slick from the lip balm. “Yeah yeah.”

“Let me get my chair cleaned off and you ladies can come back here.” Zayn said just as he grabbed the knob to his private room.

They heard something hit the floor and then a shuffle of shoes moving against the tile. Emma furrowed her brows and gave Zayn a curious look.

“Someone in there?”

“Yeah, I just finished a piece.”

He opened the door and went inside, shutting it behind him again. (Y/n) turned towards Emma and gave her a smile, unsure of what to do next. Emma grabbed her hand and nodded towards the open lobby door.

“We can wait in here.”

They returned to the lobby, where (Y/n) was easily distracted by the art on the walls again. There was a print of a skull near the door. It had flowers pouring over the crown of it, which then melted to puddles as they hit the imaginary ground. She thought it was interesting and quite cool. From what she could tell about Zayn’s vibe, it fit it well. The music playing from the speakers in the ceiling was loud enough to be heard but not too invasive. She could tell it was a curated playlist going, because the song that just begun seemed to be sung by the same person as the one before.

“Zayn just texted me.. he said we can come back.”

“I thought someone was-“ (Y/n) stopped speaking the second a body appeared in the doorway. “Oh.”

“Hey, Harry.” Emma said with a friendly tone as she stood up, motioning for (Y/n) to follow her.

“Hey, Emma.” The stranger replied with a quick lift of one corner of his mouth.

(Y/n) was slightly confused because it obviously appeared that the two knew each other. She had never heard Emma refer to anyone by the name of Harry, at least not that she could recall. She licked her lips and let her eyes fall down his tall, broad frame.

“What did you get?” Emma asked with her usual curious voice.

(Y/n) was listening, but she wasn’t paying that much attention. She couldn’t help but be taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of them. He was tall, much taller than Niall but probably close to Zayn’s height. He looked like a sky scraper standing in front of Emma and herself, both of which were shorter than average. His long, dark hair shaped into curls that were messily laying on his shoulders. He suddenly swept his hand through his roots the second she realized he had such long hair. The motion caused the lights above them to ricochet off the rings covering his fingers.

“This.” He said as he extended his right arm to them, well mainly to Emma.

There was a freshly inked snake curling around his forearm, each scale placed perfectly on his tanned skin. There were remenents of blood speckled across his skin, and a deep redness that hazed over the entire tattoo.

“Wow! That’s so good.” Emma beamed at the delicate work.

“Yeah, took two sessions. Zayn got a bit tired last time.” He smirked gently at the girl he knew, completely ignoring the one he didn’t.

“Well, it was cool seeing you! Are you headed home?”

He shook his head. “Gonna sit here for a while. I’ve got to be at the store in an hour to help Niall.”

She checked the time. “Yeah, he said he was the only one closing tonight.”

“Emma?” Zayn called from the back room, his head looking around the doorframe searching for her.

“Coming!” She hollered back, taking one last look at Harry’s freshly inked arm. “It was good seeing you. If you leave before I get out of here, I’ll see you later.”

(Y/n) didn’t even realize she was tracing her eyes over his body. His arms were like tree trunks, muscles taut under his skin and veins popping out, rolling around as he moved. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of dark jeans, she could tell through the fabric that they were toned as well. It wasn’t until he suddenly walked past her, not even sparing her a glance, that she realized she had been standing frozen.

Emma started towards the back room, (Y/n) in two as she felt an embarrassed blush cover her cheeks. She didn’t know this Harry guy, but she hoped she wasn’t staring too hard at him. It definitely wasnt polite to just stare at a stranger, especially when she was blanking out. What if she was making a face at him? Something nasty, or something rude looking? She was unsure, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t seem bothered by anything as he took a spot on the couch.

Zayn’s office was just as she expected it to be. It was a deep shade of green, the walls coated in framed prints and a few smaller canvases of what she figured was his work. There was a small accent chair placed in the corner for guests. She sat down and started darting her eyes around the room. The type of work that Zayn had pinned to a board on the back wall caught her eye. He seemed to be good at everything, but most of it was bold color work or extremely detailed realism, sort of like the snake she saw on Harry’s arm moments ago. She wondered if Zayn had given himself any of his own tattoos or if he went to someone else. Surely, not every place on his body was accessible by his own hands, but maybe some of them were done by him. She felt like an amateur compared to him. She had a few tattoos placed on her body, but nothing quite as big or detailed as what she saw on the board or on Zayn’s skin.

“(Y/n) is your new house mate, right?” Zayn asked Emma as she got comfortable on the chair.

“Yeah. I moved in before Christmas.”

“But.. you’ve known each other for a while, right? I can’t exactly remember.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, since we were in college together.”

“Zayn.. do you mind if I look through this?” (Y/n) asked politely as she picked up the small binder off the console table next to the chair. A few figurines of characters she recognized, an hour glass with black sand, and a plant lived on the table as well.

“Of course not, that’s why it’s there.” He gave her a chuckle, but kept his response nice.

She opened the book and started to slowly flick through the pages. She saw his signature on the bottom of the designs. They were all so perfect. Some were executed with such detail and precision that she could've sworn they were fake, others were more loose drawn in a free handed style or just more whimsical in nature. She saw a sketch of a few bees on one of the pages. They were in black and grey, mostly realistic with subtle, soft shading and delicate lines. The drawing was pretty and neat. She glanced to the corner, searching for his signature, but she didn’t find it. Instead, in the corner opposite of where Zayn favored to sign his name was a small H. She hummed to herself, curious to know why Zayn had someone else’s drawing in his book. She quickly shook the thought out and reminded herself that there three other stations in the front. They were not abandoned by any means, she could tell people worked at them based on the different things displayed and the personal trinkets and objects adnoring the areas. Maybe this was one of his college’s work or maybe it was random.

For the most part, the book was filled with things Zayn did. Some of them were his own creations while others were common tattoo designs just drawn by his own hand instead of being pulled from the internet. She liked the way he had a bunch of his own things offered in styles that were more popular. He appeared to be a well versed artist with the talent to create just about anything.

As Zayn prepped Emma’s skin for her tattoo, he was talking to her about Niall’s store. He asked how it was going and if she had heard any horror stories yet of Niall messing up payroll or forgetting to stock an item. She only laughed and said she was surprised he was staying so calm and organized. Everything about the store was going more than according to plan, as at least as much as (Y/n) could tell from what she’s heard. She was still so happy for Niall. His hobby had turned into a passion and a business and he was able to share it with others, it was like a dream come true she bet.

“Alright, are y’ready?” Zayn said with a deep breath of his own as Emma grew more and more nervous in the chair.

“I think so.”

“You’ll do fine, Em.” (Y/n) encouraged from the corner, her eyes now focused on her friend.

“Just take some deep breaths. Tell me if it’s too much.” Zayn told her as he pulled the stencil paper off her foot. The flower wasn’t that big, but there were lots of tiny details that Zayn knew would probably hurt her more than anything else she’s gotten. “Just a tattoo.”

“If I cry, you can’t tell Niall. I told him I could handle this.” Emma mumbled out with a frown as she stared at her foot.

Zayn smiled and leaned back, the gun still buzzing in his hand. “Before I start, is it in the spot you want?”

“What do you think? Is it good?” She asked him, twisting her foot to a different pose.

“It’s not my foot, love.”

She groaned and looked over towards (Y/n). “Can you check?”

(Y/n) laughed a little but nodded as she stood up. Just as she was about to step towards them, Emma called for someone else to take a peek at the design.

“Harry? Are you still in there?” Her voice echoed through the room, she hoped that it spilled into the lobby so he could hear her. After a few seconds, she grunted and pulled her phone out to shoot him a text. “I’m so nervous.”

“It looks fine to me.. but it’s your decision.” Zayn told her with a gentle sigh.

(Y/n) looked down at the placement of the tattoo, her arms behind her back with her hands locked. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

She gave Emma a hopeful smile before turning around. The door opened just as she moved her body, the stranger that wasn’t a stranger to anyone but her, walked in the room, chuckling as he saw Emma fanning her face, the heat swelling her skin with sweat and her eyes with tears - she was nervous.

“You always do this.” Zayn couldn’t resist laughing as Harry walked to them.

(Y/n) was back in her seat now, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waited for Emma to decide her fate. She could hear snickers coming from Zayn and Harry as they talked about the tattoo and Emma’s apparent hesitation that always came out when she was in Zayn’s chair.

“It’s fine, Emma.” Harry said, giving her a smile before looking to Zayn. “Make sure it hurts.”

“Harry, shut up!” Emma groaned and tried to kick at him. He laughed and took a step back. “You guys are bullies.”

“You’ll be alright, Em. It’s not like it's your first.” Zayn reminded her.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. Go ahead, then. Thanks, Harry.”

“Welcome.” He said lightly before disappearing out of the door again.

(Y/n) wondered why he didn’t stay in the room with them. Was he not interesting in hearing the painful grunts Emma would sure be letting out soon or watching Zayn draw his design perfected for Emma into her skin? Maybe he was tired of being near the tattoo gun since he spent however long getting his own. She pushed the thought aside entirely the moment she heard Emma groan, curses falling form her lips but not directly towards anyone.

Zayn leaned over her foot, his fingers pulling her skin tight as he worked the needle into it. It didn’t look like it was much fun, and (Y/n) became grateful that she had no intention of ever inking anything onto her foot.

—•—

There was a freshness in the air as she looked around Niall’s music store. It smelt like freshly picked lemons, probably because he had just sprayed down the counter before she came in following behind Emma. Niall was in one of his usual band tees and a pair of jeans as he sat on a stool with a guitar resting on his thigh. He was talking with a customer, comparing the similarities of two different guitar brands. Emma found herself busy with the items on the checkout counter - dropping loose pens back into their cup and adjusting the pile of papers Niall had pushed to the side.

(Y/n) stayed curious as she looked around the store. It was very easy to get caught up in the different items, especially since she had little to no idea what some of the accessories were for. Niall provided more than just items for guitars. She didn’t try to decipher every thing on the shelves, just simply moved her eyes across the packages, curiosity settling in her instead of blurting out questions to Niall. The girls came by to bring him some lunch before they did some grocery shopping for the week. Niall was appreciative, but he was unable to entertainment right away.

Emma smiled as the customer approached the counter, the one Niall had been chatting with. She stepped aside and let Niall take over the register. He had another employee here, but he was in the back room looking for a specific thing they needed to restock on one of the shelves. (Y/n) waited near by as Niall scanned the guitar music book the customer wanted to get and told him that he’d see him when he returned for the guitar - the customer hadn’t made his decision just yet.

When it was just the three of them at the counter, a few customers were lingering around the store just browsing, Niall gave them both a warm smile before wrapping his arms around Emma for a quick hug.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll eat it when Josh gets off his break.” He said with a sigh, folding his arms and leaning them on the counter.

“The store is so nice, Niall.” (Y/n) complimented as she glanced around.

“Thanks.”

Emma walked from behind the counter to where (Y/n) was standing. She was about to ask her something about their plans for the day when her eyes fell on the few pieces of paper taped to the front edge of the counter. One was the refund policy, one was about the instrument lessons, and the other was new since the last time she was here.

“Oh, a flyer? That’s unusual.” Emma suddenly said as she pressed her finger against the pink dyed paper. “For the show?”

“The show?’’ (Y/n) asked with a drop of her brows as she read over the words printed in bold black letters.

“Yeah, Niall’s band. They play at a bar across town every couple of weeks.” Emma told her.

(Y/n) remembered as soon as she heard it. Emma had told her before, long ago when she first started dating Niall, that he was in a cover band. It wasn’t anything serious, not trying to search for record deals or gain stardom, it was just him and his friends having a good time. They got decent money for it, including tips from audiences, and it allowed them to play the instruments each member enjoyed. She wasn’t sure who was in the band as Emma never got to that detail before.

“Oh, right.” She nodded as the memory returned to her brain. “That’s cool.”

“Can’t believe Emma’s never brought you to a show.” Niall said with a somewhat surprised expression.

“I invited her a few times but she’s usually busy with work stuff.” Emma defended herself, even though there was no issue with it.

(Y/n) smiled at her and shrugged. “I remember you asking a couple times.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to attend if you’d like.” Niall offered as he pushed himself off the counter the moment the bell jingled above the entrance door.

He went to greet the customer, someone he actually was used to seeing come in the store, leaving the girls alone again.

“Yeah, it would be fun if you came! You could finally meet Alyssa. She’s usually just home with her and Zayn’s kid.. she doesn’t go out much anymore, but she loves the shows.” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her eye.

“I dunno.. when is it?” She asked, glancing at the flyer.

“Next Saturday night. It would be cool, (Y/n)! We haven’t went out since Halloween.”

The stress building up at work during the holidays definitely set her back from enjoying a lot of things, including several invitations from Emma to join her and Niall at a bar or go out for dinner with just the two of them. It truly felt like forever since she got to have fun with her friend. She thought about it for a moment, but only lifted her shoulder at the idea. The mention of meeting Zayn’s fiancé was intriguing since she had heard so much about her from Emma, but she doubted that would be enough to pull her out for the night.

“Maybe.. depends on how the week goes.”

Emma gave her a partial smile. “Okay. I really hope you can go with me.”

“Yeah, you should definitely come, (Y/n).” Niall said as he appeared next to them, the customer gone to look for the item they asked him about.

Once again, she let out a small sigh and faked a smile for them. “I said I’ll see how the week goes, but no promises.”

He gave her a fake, dramatic frown. “C’mon! Live a little!”

“I live a lot.. at work.”

Emma grabbed her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll convince you before the week ends.”

“M’sure you will, Em.”

After spending a few more minutes talking to Niall, and then waiting in the car as he and Emma disappeared into his office to say a private goodbye, (Y/n) was ready to get the grocery shopping over with. The store they frequented was near by, so the drive was short and easy. It wasn’t close to their shared house, but the prices were better than anywhere else. Emma offered to take her car, so that left (Y/n) in the passenger seat with her eyes glued to whatever passed by the window.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?” Emma asked as they strolled through the fruit section in search for the items on their list.

She gulped gently, distracting herself by collecting a few apples for the cart. “M’fine, just tired.”

Emma watched as she walked towards the basket of lemons and grabbed two, she’d need them for a receipe she was going to try later in the week. (Y/n) was normally not this quiet. She enjoyed the task of grabbing their groceries and checking things off their combined list while Emma pushed the cart and double checked everything. Something about doing such a mundane thing made her feel content and comfortable, even if they decided randomly to try a new store they’d never been in. But today was different, Emma was growing concerned with her unusually quiet friend.

“If you’re irritated with me and Niall pushing you about the show.. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go.” Emma said with a soft frown as (Y/n) returned to the cart with a handful of bananas.

She sat them down and lifted her hesitant gaze to meet her closest friend’s. “I’m fine, Emma. Just tired.”

She shook her head gently. “No, you’re too quiet. What’s wrong?”

“You and Niall didn’t bother me, I swear. The bar thing is.. whatever. I’ll think about it, I promise. It’s just.. one of those days.”

Emma wasn’t believing it all the way. Sure, maybe (Y/n) was being truthful about the role her and Niall played in her newfound mood, or didn’t play - but something else was up. She licked her lips and decided to stay quiet as (Y/n) busied herself with grabbing the rest of the fruits before moving onto the fresh vegetables.

Although she didn’t want to press it any further, Emma couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened at the music shop or on the way to the grocery store. Her worry was growing quickly and it wasn’t very long before she was asking another question.

“(Y/n), please tell me. Are you alright?”

She received a sigh as a response, a couple of tomatoes and a bag of baby carrots joined the cart. “Emma, please.. I’m fine.”

“Something is wrong with you. I don’t want to see you so down.”

(Y/n) walked towards the next section of the store, knowing that Emma would follow her with the cart no matter if they were talking or not. She held her breath as she thought about what was bothering her. She was too caught up with her racing mind to realize she was actually expressing her emotions on the outside. Emma noticed everything, so clearly she wasn't doing well at hiding it. There was no real issue, really, nothing that anyone caused by saying or doing anything. A lump slid down her throat, Emma was her friend - there was no need to keep anything from her.

Just as they turned down the aisle where the bread was, she stopped in her tracks and turned towards the cart, her hand reaching out to stop it. Emma froze, a lift of her brows offering confidence like a good friend should.

“The guy that walked through the door right before we left.. at Niall’s store..” She started with a strong voice, but it slowly faded to almost a whisper.

Emma nodded, encouraging her to continue. She looked down to the floor as the moment replayed in her memory. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to experience, in fact it was more common than not. One little thing, one random glance from a passerby, one glimpse of someone with a similar shade of hair as her own, one note from a list of songs she knew were special..

“He reminded me of my brother. I.. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Her response made Emma’s stomach turn to knots. She knew that the conversation was over then, and there wasn’t anything else she could try that would break (Y/n). The forbidden topic had been brought up, and quickly dropped back to the vault she kept it locked away in. Emma didn’t mention it again..

[a/n: this is a series! It’s a lot longer per part than my other stuff so I hope you enjoy! This is just the intro so it will be more interesting and exciting as it goes on! reblog, like, do all that lovely stuff!!]

taglist: (notified for all // if you want to join a taglist for this series, lmk in a comment or message and I’ll start one)

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

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petals4bangtan · 2 days ago

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Mistletoe

Smut! J.jk x oc

Rated 18+ with prominent mention of sexual acts and name callings + slapping (not in a abusive way)

Side note: Christmas special! Although a few days late lol

Jungkook was a light sleeper.

The light shaking of the merry tree along with the soft rattling of the balls that comes with it woke him from his slumber.

He shuffled on his sheets and sat up, greeted by such a sight under the mistletoe. With widened eyes, he struggles to form a word and none tumbles out of his mouth. A little bit too stunned to speak.

You kinda understood his reaction though. I mean, you in an elf costume that's a bit lacking in length and showing more skin and cleavage was definitely surprising especially on a lone night like this, where everyone is asleep believing that Santa's down the chimney preparing gifts for everyone.

“Merry Christmas.” You mumbled, keeping your grip on one of the wrapped presents you placed under the tree, decorated with a perfect little bow, supposedly for Jungkook.

He pants slightly, with a very obvious bulge forming, “Yeah… Merry Christmas indeed.”

What was supposed to be a tooth-aching sweet moment you had in mind (which involves the two of you opening the gifts you prepared for him that explains the present you were holding), ended up with him fucking you dumb under the mistletoe.

“I missed—” He groans, “I missed you— n’ this fucking pussy so much.” You moan, spreading your legs, giving him wider access as he hits deliciously— so good deeper. Arching your back, his words make your core muscles tighten around him almost involuntary. Your upper body jolting forward with the force of his thrusts— your hands, gripping anywhere stable to support yourself. Jungkook takes off his shirt, the sweat on his chest, reflected the dazzling lights on the tree. The scene almost makes you come.

“Man-whore.” You taunt, while he tugs down your elf costume even lower that it already is and exposes your tits under his glistening eyes.

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “Me? Look at you.”

Your body tenses up and you fail to stifle a sound when his finger begins to draw slow and dying circles on your clit. “Wearing such a slutty costume in the middle of the night, who's the whore now?” He asks, gripping each side of your hips enough to leave prints and the obscene sound of skin slapping is just too much as he loves teasing you, loves seeing you eyes roll back while the two of you catch orgasm, loves seeing himself disappearing into you. He gives you a hard slap when you fail to answer his question, not hard enough to hurt you but hard enough for him to feel you squeeze his shaft again.

You whimper, “Me, I'm a goddamn whore.” Jungkook chuckles. “Glad you know.”

His pace is rough, quite painful in fact. The type of pain that brings pleasure; sadistic one. Low moans and dirty words tumbling out of his mouth fill the atmosphere, keeping the room in heat coupled by the lewd sounds of thrusts.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, there please—” you whine, his movements started to become sloppy and your pussy repetitively clenched around him, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull as orgasm washed over you.

“I love it when you squeeze me in.” He inhales, desperately catching his own release until his thrusts start to falter. Strings of sloppy cum connected him from you when he pulled out. Jungkook lowered himself down, with his arms for support, he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth before biting on to your lower lip.

“Is this the part where we open presents?”

He chuckles, shaking his head no.

“This is the part where I eat you out.”

#bts smut #my first smutt rahhh #bts drabble #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts angst #girlblogging #coquette #kpop fanfic #bts #jimin smut #bts jimin #bts imagine #bangtan

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mingi-s-dimples · 3 days ago

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Christmas Eve - Mingi

First of all.. Merry Christmas, everyone! I know I am *a bit* late to the party 😭 but school has been stressing me out so much... and I haven't had time to write nor the proper motivation to, so I decided to delay my fics a bit in order to regain some of my motivation, since I want to give my utmost best when writing ^^. Happy holidays, and this is a great opportunity to thank everyone for all the support I've been receiving since I started writing! This place is my comfort, I love writing so much.. I love you 🤍

---

pairing: bf!Mingi x gf fem!reader

genre: absolute fluff

summary: your boyfriend organised a surprise for you right in Christmas Eve.. which leaves you growing fonder of him ^^

wc: 1.3k (what a contrast between this and the ot8 one lmao)

warnings: literally no warnings, it's pure fluff ^^

Author's Note: I love writing thid tbh.. it felt like a fresh breath of air. I am all about Christmas, so y'all about to find out it took me 10 mins to write the first draft 🧍‍♀️ and 10 mins to rethink parts and finish. (pspspsps, special nye fic is coming... and it’s steamy 🫣)

The biting chill of the December night followed you home, your breath visible in small white puffs as you stepped out of the cab. Tugging your coat tighter around yourself, you couldn’t help but sigh. Christmas Eve had come at last, but work had been relentless. Most of your day had been spent organizing last-minute projects and ensuring everyone left the office in time for the holidays. The thought of warmth, home, and Mingi waiting for you was the only thing keeping you going.

However, as you approached your apartment door, something peculiar struck you. The hallway was dark—unusually so. The soft glow of Christmas lights, typically draped along the railing, was conspicuously absent. You paused for a moment, frowning as you set your keys in the lock. Had Mingi forgotten to turn them on?

Sliding the door open, you called out, “Mingi?”

No answer. The apartment was eerily quiet.

Shrugging off the odd sensation that prickled at your spine, you stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your shared space instantly melted some of the tension from your shoulders. After locking the door behind you, you shed your coat, scarf, and gloves, hanging them on the rack alongside your work bag. You glanced down at the fluffy slippers waiting patiently for you by the entrance—Mingi’s doing, no doubt. Smiling softly, you slipped them on.

The living room was just a few steps away, and as you made your way toward it, you couldn’t help but note the tantalizing scent of something delicious wafting through the air. Your curiosity piqued, you pushed open the door—and stopped dead in your tracks.

The room was transformed into something straight out of a dream.

A digital fireplace crackled warmly on the TV screen, the flames casting a golden glow across the room. The Christmas tree stood tall and regal in the corner, its ornaments twinkling like stars under the soft light of the fairy lights strung around it. Beneath its branches, a pile of neatly wrapped gifts sat waiting to be opened.

But the centerpiece of the scene was the small table in the center of the room, set up with candles, a bottle of wine, and two plates of what looked like your favorite dishes.

“Mingi?” you called again, your voice soft this time.

From the kitchen emerged your boyfriend, a grin as bright as the Christmas star adorning the tree spreading across his face. He was dressed casually in a cozy sweater that you loved on him, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he’d been hurrying to prepare everything.

“Surprise,” he said, holding his arms out theatrically.

Your heart melted on the spot.

“Mingi, what is all this?” you asked, stepping forward, a hand flying to your chest.

“It’s Christmas Eve, isn’t it? Thought I’d make it special.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know how hard you’ve been working lately.”

Tears stung at your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “This is amazing,” you said earnestly, reaching for him. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

He caught your hands in his and kissed your knuckles softly. “You deserve it. Now sit down, let’s eat.”

Mingi guided you to the table, pulling out your chair with a flourish. As you sat, he poured you a glass of wine before serving up the dishes he’d prepared. Everything smelled and looked divine, from the roasted vegetables to the perfectly cooked protein.

“You didn’t burn anything,” you teased gently as you took your first bite.

He snorted, his face scrunching in mock offense. “Wow, no faith in me at all, huh?”

“None whatsoever,” you joked, earning a dramatic gasp from him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, laughing and chatting about your day, your plans for the holiday, and reminiscing about past Christmases. The meal was delicious, and the warmth of the digital fireplace added to the cozy atmosphere.

Once the plates were cleared, Mingi brought out a tray of sweets he’d picked up from your favorite bakery. As you nibbled on cookies and sipped your wine, the conversation turned to your shared memories.

“Remember when we bought that tree?” you said, nodding toward the majestic pine in the corner.

Mingi chuckled. “How could I forget? You almost tackled that old lady to get it.”

“I did not!” you protested, laughing.

“You kind of did,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But it was worth it. Look how perfect it is.”

The tree indeed looked perfect, its branches heavy with ornaments you’d collected together over the years.

After a while, Mingi turned on a playlist of faint Christmas carols, the soft melodies filling the room. The two of you moved to the couch, the tree standing sentinel over you as you began to exchange gifts.

“Okay, okay, open mine first!” Mingi said, nearly vibrating with excitement as he handed you a neatly wrapped box.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “All right, all right, calm down!”

Carefully peeling back the wrapping paper, you uncovered a small velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened it to reveal a stunning white gold necklace with a matching pair of earrings. The necklace sparkled like frost in the morning sun, and the earrings were elegant, perfectly complementing it.

“Oh my God, Mingi!” you exclaimed, your voice rising with excitement. “This is gorgeous! How did you even—”

“I saw it weeks ago and knew it was perfect for you,” he said, grinning so wide it looked like his cheeks might ache. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” you said, throwing your arms around him. “It’s absolutely perfect!”

You leaned back, still holding onto him, and added, “Help me put it on?”

Mingi’s hands were steady as he clasped the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin lightly. When he was done, you turned to show him, and the way his eyes lit up made your heart flip.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth.

“Thank you,” you said softly, before kissing him with all the gratitude and love you could muster.

“My turn, my turn!” Mingi said, bouncing slightly as he sat back.

Laughing, you handed him your gift. He tore into the wrapping paper with childlike glee, letting out an audible gasp when he opened the box inside.

“No way!” he exclaimed, holding up the sleek bracelet he’d been admiring for months. “No freaking way!”

“Way,” you replied, laughing at his reaction.

“You remembered? I can’t believe you got this for me!” His voice was filled with awe as he slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, admiring how it fit perfectly.

“Of course I remembered,” you said, grinning. “You’ve been talking about it forever.”

He leaned over and crushed you in a hug, nearly knocking you backward. “This is the best gift ever. Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, your cheeks aching from smiling so much.

“I love it!” he said emphatically, leaning back just enough to kiss you.

The two of you spent the next hour unpacking the rest of the gifts—sweets, small trinkets, and other thoughtful items—but nothing could compare to the excitement and joy of those two special gifts.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves snuggled up together on the couch, the soft glow of the tree casting shadows on the walls. Mingi’s arm was draped around your shoulders, and your head rested against his chest.

“This is the best Christmas Eve ever,” you murmured, your voice thick with contentment.

Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s the best because I get to spend it with you.”

And as the carols played softly in the background and the warmth of the digital fireplace wrapped around you, you couldn’t help but agree.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #mingi s dimples masterlist #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #ateez #fluff #ateez fluff #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #song mingi #mingi #mingi cute #christmas fic #fluff fic #fluff fluff fluff

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hanniewho · 2 days ago

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⋆˚࿔ Cam Girl series ft Jayce𝜗𝜚˚⋆

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

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

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

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 5.6k

⋆✦ Pairings: Modern AU Jayce x cam girl reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jayce chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body making you shiver. "We've got time," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise. "But when you're ready, I'll be waiting." He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, deep kiss that made your knees wobble. The taste of mint from the toothpaste and the faint saltiness from your shared release still lingered on his tongue.

When he pulled away, a smug smile played on his lips. He reached out, his fingertips brushing through your still-damp hair, the gentle ruffling sending a cascade of tingles down your neck. His touch was a brand of ownership, a silent declaration that you were his, and the thought had your stomach doing flips. You couldn't help but return the smile, the thrill of your shared secret echoing in every pulse of your heart.

The next stream was going to be a marathon, you realized with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You'd have to plan, to choreograph a performance that would not only satisfy your viewers' hunger for the extreme but also push the boundaries of your own comfort. But with Jayce by your side, you knew it wasn't going to be so bad. In fact, it was going to be incredible.

The thought of the upcoming show had your mind racing with possibilities, your heart fluttering in anticipation. You knew that with Jayce's help, you'd be able to create a spectacle that would leave your audience breathless and begging for more. You'd have to be strategic with your set-up, ensuring the angles were perfect and the lighting cast just the right amount of shadows to keep the mood sultry and mysterious.

The realization that you were making a fortune doing something so taboo with the person you loved was almost too delicious to believe. The thrill of it all had a strange allure, a forbidden fruit that only made you crave it more. You'd never felt so alive, so in tune with your desires, and the knowledge that you were sharing it with the world was exhilarating.

#jayce x reader #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce smut #jayce x you #ᯓᡣ𐭩han

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 days ago

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what does a barbie mean?

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'hanukkah'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 633 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff

🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎

When Steve picks Rory up from her friend’s birthday party, she’s surprisingly quiet. Usually after parties, she’s bouncing off the walls, blaming the cake and ice cream and soda and goodie bags full of candy.

By the time they get home, Steve’s getting concerned at her silence.

“Hey green bean, you okay?” He asks as they park in the garage. Eddie’s at work for another hour, so he has to do this alone.

He got used to not having to do this stuff alone anymore.

“Mhm,” Rory answers as she unbuckles her seatbelt. It’s not convincing and Steve turns to tell her that. She’s not looking at him, though.

“Do you wanna talk about something? Did anything happen at the party?” Steve asks. He shouldn’t push, but he’s worried that someone was mean to her. Rory can handle herself, but she’s still human, and she’s still a kid, and words can hurt.

“Nothing happened,” she says, but Steve’s not convinced.

“You can tell me anything.”

Rory finally looks up at him. “How come Santa doesn’t bring Sarah and Rebecca presents? They’re good all year.”

Oh. Well, this is definitely better than he expected, and way easier to explain or fix. No one bullied her, she’s just confused.

“You know how Sarah and Rebecca celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas?” Rory nods. “Well, for Hanukkah, they don’t need Santa to bring them presents because the family gets all the gifts and they have special meanings to them.”

“What does a new Barbie mean?” Rory asks.

“I think it just means that Sarah is six and wants a Barbie,” Steve laughs.

“But how come they have eight Christmases in a row?”

Steve briefly explains what he knows about Hanukkah, which is not as much as he should know.

And they go inside and look up more information, because Rory is a curious child and Steve never wants her to stop learning.

And when Eddie gets home, she starts telling him all about how Sarah and Rebecca get to light a candle every night and their dad says a prayer and maybe they could light their own Christmas candle on Christmas Eve.

That weekend, they go straight to the library to get a book about the dreidel game, and make a stop at the store to find chocolate coins. Eddie tags along, a little confused about how serious Rory is taking this, but enthusiastic about playing any game that leads to eating chocolate.

The fascination with Hanukkah ends rather abruptly two days later, when she hears Rebecca talking about jelly doughnuts. Rory hates doughnuts with fillings.

Steve doesn’t bother telling her that it’s not a requirement to eat them for Hanukkah, and he gives Eddie a look to stop him before he does.

“I think we should just have Christmas like we always do,” Rory says. Steve nods like he knew this would be her decision the entire time.

Eddie leans over to whisper in his ear. “Was there a chance we were converting to Judaism?”

Steve shakes his head. “She did this with Chinese New Year two years ago and Dia de los Muertos three years ago. She’s just a curious kid.”

Eddie nods, immediately understanding and knowing that she’ll probably find another way to celebrate something next year, and many years after that. He was the same way as a kid, even remembers one year when he learned what Mardi Gras was and made Wayne buy them all dollar store beads and a King Cake at the grocery store.

“Can we keep the candles though?” Rory asks.

“Yeah, those are nice candles,” Eddie looks at Steve to confirm.

“Sure,” Steve laughs, fond as he can be over his two favorite people being so in sync, even with something like this. “We can keep the candles.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie holiday drabbles #steddie events #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #hanukkah #bear hugs universe

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mqrrstarr · 3 days ago

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CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!

Gladiator Characters x GN! Reader

(1/7)

Feat: Geta, Caracalla, Commodus, Lucius, Maximus, Acacius, Lucilla, Macrinus!!

Christmas Day and Eve headcanons!

Warnings: poorly edited, just a girl who loves these characters and the holidays, a bit short

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! don’t feel the same vibe as I did when a child, so I’m coping with writing. This will be a seven part series regarding Gladiator characters and Christmas and I’ll try to post them all BY THE END OF THE WEEK (?) but uhh don’t hold that against me. Enjoy!!

Summary: headcanons for all the gladiator characters and how they’d spend Christmas Eve and Day with their SO.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Geta would spend Christmas Eve with dinner specially made for his SO, (he def has better cooking skills than Caracalla) and he’d lovingly give them a bonus Eve gift. It’s a beautiful moment, where the strong and feared leader of Rome and succumb to the one he loves.

“Enjoy it darling. The beauty of the holidays does not compare to yours.”

He’d watch you enjoy his meal, and drink the wine he picked out especially for the occasion. As much as music was needed, Geta refused to let anyone interrupt your moment together.

On Christmas Day, it would depend on what happened during the night. Was it a peaceful night, was it active, or was it bland? Either way, Geta would get up and prepare presents for you, a surprise for no one other than the love of his life. He’d do it quietly, and super early in the morning. He’d rarely sleeps in peace anyways, so why use the energy elsewhere?

It would also be a morning where you wake up gently, and be surprised by the lavish decorations Geta has placed. Gold and white silk decorating his room, and most of all, your Emperor was still yours.

- - - - - - -

Caracalla is in love with the holidays. He gets giddy, childlike, and excited every time. This is a period in the year where he can remember something good about his youth. He likes to keep himself happy, and now that you’re his? You’re included in all the traditions.

During your Christmas dinner, he’d bring out a bunch of dinner games, have slaves perform for the both of you (AMND reference btw) and it would be a wholesome night.

Before Christmas Day, the eldest emperor cried during the night. He laid in your arms, and caressed you in return.

“Sweets. I cannot express how much care…”

He looks at you like a puppy worshipping its owner.

“I truly care about you. And although these times are happy and remind me of things, I hope to make new memories with you.”

The night would pass, and the morning would come. You’d wake up in Caracalla’s embrace, and to be frank, none of you got the others gifts out. So you just opened everything together, and you had never seen the man so happy.

- - - - - - -

Commodus and Christmas. What an interesting mix. Take a emotionally damaged man with immense childhood trauma and put him in a holiday where he did nothing but suffer? Where his own father ignored him and gave him nothing but one gift?

Christmas Eve with him was truly nothing but a dinner. Now that he had you, he tried to forget and make new memories. But the shame and pain was still visible in his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore and sat next to him, caressing him and saying words of affection.

“My present from Venus, ignore my past and ignore my anger. My father ruined my mind, and all you can do it heal it. This Christmas will be my first with you, and if my last? Than I would rather be dead.”

You looked at him with such sincerity in your eyes, he became submissive to your touch and you both proceeded to sit next to the fire in his room.

Christmas morning arrived promptly, and knowing this was a very sensitive time for Commodus, you got him a gift he’d never forget. This necklace, engraved with your initials and his; with both of your favorite jewels. And, a new laurel crown for the one and only Emperor himself.

Commodus nearly fell down into tears, so grateful he was finally seen.

- - - - - - -

Lucius loved you with his entire heart. After being forcefully removed from his mother as a kid, and already losing his first wife, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person special to him.

To Lucius, Christmas is the mark of the end of the year, another time to celebrate the fact you’re both alive, and that you’re both still warriors. (writing from a Gladiator! perspective rather than Prince!)

“My love, I am eternally grateful to the Gods that we can be together.”

He kisses your forehead, gently as to not hurt you. You spend your Christmas Eve with a simple meal, and the next day not as lavish either.

Lucius adored you already: but he’d try to get a gift anyways, even though he already admires and thinks you’re just amazing! (Poppy and Branch dynamic)

He’d come up with something cute and homemade, providing the point that it doesn��t have to be expensive to matter. (save me Lucius save me)

- - - - - - -

Maximus wasn’t the same after the loss of his previous wife and child, and this time was bittersweet for him. His SO kept him sane, and he tried not to let his sadness show through.

You decorated the tree in your home, one Maximus was able to buy after years of being a Gladiator. He occasionally goes to the fights, but not anymore. Now he’s a Senator. (NOT CANON ITS JUST SO HES NOT DEAD AND IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN THE OTHER SEVEN PARTS)

He came up behind you and kissed your neck, watching you place the last of the ornaments.

“Excellent work my dear. Excellent. I’m going to bed now, meet you there?”

And he went away in a form far too sad for the usual Maximus. You knew him well, and simply decided to go to sleep as well. The following morning, you woke up first and decided to get your gift for Maximus.

It was a wooden carving of him, his late wife, his late child, and you all together.

Maximus woke up a few minutes later, and got your gift from the bedroom! (You were in the living room.) He got you a bracelet from his dead wife, something that really meant a lot to him.

“My dear? I’d like to give you this. It belonged to my former wife, and she liked it dearly. Made form Spanish jewels and metal, of course. I love you, but I beg for you to understand that she and my son still live in me. You understand, right?”

You nodded, happy and overwhelmed. You gave Maximus his gift, and tears were shed from the both of you. Your gift meant a lot, as you accepted his love and the love for those gone.

- - - - - - -

Acacius loved the holidays. It was a time where he could relax, sink into his own bed, be clean, and most important, be with you.

You finished preparing the meal, a mix of both his and your favorite foods with some Roman delicacies thrown in there.

“Looks great my sweet. Not as good as you though! But you know I love you.”

He caressed your hips before helping set the table. The meal was prepped and Acacius sat you down first. (WHAT A GENTLEMAN)

He sat across from you at the table, and you talked about what was going on, what you wanted to happen in Rome, etc.

Eventually, stuff happened and you both woke up in the each others arms in the morning. Acacius always laid very still in the night, out of pure instinct. However, Christmas morning he couldn’t stop moving around, and woke the both of you up together.

He eagerly said, “Hurry up and change, your gift is outside.” He smiled and left promptly.

Outside, there was a gleaming white stallion.

“For you. A horse just as grand as your soul.”

You smiled. Who wouldn’t want a horse as a gift? But inside you shattered. The only gift you got for Acacius was a painting of himself. You showed it to him, and he reassured you it was enough. Let’s just say he’d also show you it was okay.

- - - - - - -

Lucilla loved the holidays. She decorated excessively, both as a young woman and as she is now. (hc, it’s because Lucius loved the looks and lights of Christmas and the guilt of having him leave her has followed her forever)

“One more wreath I promise… it’s just an extra special one… done!”

She looked at you and smiled. It radiated calm and positivity, an effect only Lucilla had. You kissed her and assured the place looked great.

“Dinner should be set by the slaves by now. It should be good. I trust it is. They sent by fresh fruits and veggies and proper meat as well. I’d like to give you your gift now, would that be alright? I just truly cannot wait.”

You nodded yes, but you’d have to get the gift from the room. You agreed to meet again in five minutes to exchange gifts.

Soon, the two of you are reunited, and she presents a lovely sculpture of you, portrayed in such an ethereal form; as if the gods had carved it themselves. You gave her a crown made from pure gold and a ring, as you knew she loved collecting rings. The ring you gave her had your initials carved, signifying the both of you tied together.

- - - - - - -

Macrinus had a holiday anytime one of his prized gladiators won. Yet, Christmas, was an actual holiday he could look forward to.

“Uh, Dove, do you know if the servants have finished the meal? I’ve got a bunch of gladiators waiting to fight in your honor.”

(he calls you Dove bc you’re his symbol of peace!)

He planted a kiss on your forehead before leading you to the garden outside, where a meal was served and the servants were waiting patiently, deserts, fruits, wine in their hands.

Five gladiators waited in chains to be released to have a “playful” hand to hand fight, something Macrinus found plenty delight in.

“I have a gift for you. I won’t be around tomorrow, as the Emperors requested a meeting with me. So I wish to give you this. I know it’s a bit excessive, but you deserve it.”

He gave you a pearl necklace with ruby earrings to go with it, and a slip saying you owned a young gladiator.

You thanked Macrinus, and you enjoyed the meal as the gladiators fought and the moon shined upon the both of you.

“I live for you, and I love you Dove. Fly high always.”

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 days ago

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Keeper of my Heart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.6k

Warnings: mostly fluff

Summary: You live in a world where people’s hearts are kept in pocket watches to give to that one special person. You go through life thinking you’ll never find the one when you run into Bucky one fateful night.

Square Filled: au: steampunk (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

“How about this one?”

You walk out of the closet wearing the dress you wore for Homecoming in high school. It’s purple, goes down to your knees, and is strapless. You lost some weight since then so the dress fits you not snug like a glove but good enough for this blind date. Vanessa looks at you and shakes her head.

“Why do you still have that dress? Throw it away. That’s like you’re saying high school was a peak for you.”

“Then I don’t know what to wear. I haven’t been on a date since Mario, and I don’t know what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t go,” you sigh.

“You’re thirty-one, Y/N, and you still own your heart. It’s time you find someone to give it to.” You groan as you walk back into your closet, already annoyed by the story you know is coming. “As you know, I gave my heart away when I was eighteen to Vaughn. Oh, it was magical. Sure I was dating him all throughout high school, but I took one look in his eyes and knew. He was the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. I look at you and become sad that you don’t have that person to share things with. You live alone.”

“Thanks for that very touching story that I definitely haven’t heard before,” you say sarcastically, “but I’ll be fine.”

You walk out of the closet wearing a different dress. It flows all around you loosely, has pink flowers on it, and has puffy sleeves that go down to your wrists. It’s very flattering, and judging by the way Vanessa’s eyes light up, you found the one.

“You’re my little sister, Y/N. I will always worry about you.”

“I know.” You smooth down your hair and start looking around your room for something. “Now if I can only find my heart. Where did I put the damn thing?”

You look on your messy vanity desk but it’s not there. You fling clothes out of your closet looking for the damn thing. You’re always losing your heart which is not a good thing. If something bad happens to it…

“It’s on your bed, Y/N,” Vanessa sighs.

You walk over to your bed and pick up the delicate pocket watch. You open it and stare at your heart beating rhythmically inside. When people are born, they are born with their hearts in a sac outside of their bodies. Doctors then provide a pocket watch to put the hearts in, something that will protect it always. Everyone outgrows their first pocket watch, so parents gift their children new ones every few years to keep up with their growing organs. By the time someone turns eighteen, their heart is at the biggest it will ever get, so they get one pocket watch and stick with that one for years, decades even.

Everyone goes through life looking for their special someone. Time and time again, you’ve heard stories of people finding true love and giving their hearts over. It’s supposed to be magical. Vanessa never misses an opportunity to tell the story of how and why she gave her heart to Vaughn. Your mother gave her heart at a young age, and your friends have already given their hearts over.

You’re the only one who hasn’t found your one true love or whatever shit people say these days. You’re not good at dating, and you seem to mess up every relationship you’ve ever been in. With Mario, you thought he was the one until you accused him of cheating. He broke things off with you and made you feel bad about accusing him like that.

Turns out he was cheating on you, and you haven’t been on a date since.

Vanessa found someone at her work to set you up with, and you agreed only to keep from hearing her annoying story again. You close the pocket watch and place it inside your small handbag. Vanessa sees you out, and you drive to the bar to meet Jerry, her coworker. You’ve heard a few stories about him but not enough to develop an opinion. Maybe this date will go well. Maybe Jerry might be the one.

You enter the bar and find Jerry already at a table sporting a tall glass of beer. He smiles when he sees you, and you’re suddenly cautious of the way your legs look in the dress.

“You must be Y/N,” he smiles with unbelievably white teeth.

“Yeah. You’re Jerry,” you chuckle nervously.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me with me. I know how blind dates usually go. Vanessa has told me so much about you.”

“I don’t know if I should be scared or not.”

“Don’t worry, it’s all good things.”

Jerry seems pretty cool, and you two hit it off from the start. This might be looking like the date is going well until about three drinks in.

“So, Vanessa never told me what you do.”

“Oh, I work at the local bookstore, A Thousand Lives.”

“Yeah, but what do you want to do in life?”

The question makes your hands clammy. Your voice drops a few tones. “I work at a bookstore.”

“You want to do that for the rest of your life?”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out of it. Do you? You love working there. You’re surrounded by a thousand little lives and amazing stories.

“I guess I never really thought about it. I like writing but that’s something on the side. I don’t do it a lot.”

“So, you have no ambition?”

Suddenly, you don’t feel like being here with Jerry. This needs a change of topic. “What do you do? I mean, I know Vanessa works with you but she didn’t really touch on it.”

“I work in finance. I’m one of our top accountants. I’m quickly earning my place on the boards. I hope to be CEO one day.”

“That’s amazing. I hope you get it.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his pocket watch. “I hope to give this to someone special one day.”

“I have one too.” You put your purse on the table and sift through the contents. “Fuck, where did I put it?” you laugh nervously. “Sorry, Jerry. Give me a second.”

Jerry sighs and pockets his watch again. “I gotta go.”

“No, wait.” You practically dump half your purse onto the table before finding the watch. “I found it.”

You look up but Jerry isn’t sitting across from you anymore. In fact, he left the bar. You sigh sadly and put the watch back into your purse. You should have stayed home. After cleaning the table of your things, you walk to the back where the bathrooms are. This is the last time you have Vanessa set you up with anything. Maybe it’s fate that you end up alone. Just you and your books.

After you’re done, you walk out of the bathroom with your eyes on your phone. You’re not looking where you’re going and end up knocking into someone. Your purse falls and all of the contacts scatter across the ground.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you gasp.

You look up and notice dark blue eyes. Dark, short hair. A strong jawline that’s covered in facial hair. Slight freckles on his face. Bulging muscles. Fuck, he’s attractive.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault,” you mutter and drop your knees.

The stranger gets on his knees to help you pick up your things. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Your hand brushes his when you grab your things from him, and heat floods your body from the slight contact. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/N.”

“Are you here with someone?” he asks when you two stand.

“I was just leaving, actually. Not really my scene. It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m sorry, again.”

You blush and duck out of view before he has a chance to say anything back. Bucky watches you leave the bar, his mind already fuzzy with the thought of you. A stranger but he finds himself wanting to know you more. After using the bathroom, he walks out and notices something shiny on the floor in the hallway.

A pocket watch. It’s delicate, a reminder that it’s fragile yet heavy and sturdy enough to protect the heart that’s inside. Some people put their names on it in case they ever get lost, but there isn’t a name on this. Bucky opens it and sees the precious heart beating. He can’t just leave it here, and he doesn’t trust the owner of the bar enough to leave it with him.

He pockets the watch and leaves the bar.

After your date with Jerry, you tried avoiding your sister as much as possible. You declined her calls and refused to see her, claiming you were busy with work. A couple of days go by with you working at the bookstore when Vanessa walks in with determination on her face.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath.

“Way not to call me back.”

“I’m busy with work.”

She looks around the empty bookstore. “Clearly.”

“What do you want?”

“How did the date go? Did you and Jerry hit it off?”

“He’s not the one for me.” She opens her mouth to protest but you cut her off. “I’m not good at this whole thing, and he seemed a little too arrogant for my taste.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone else for you.”

“No, Vanessa. I don’t need your help. I appreciate it but this is something I have to do alone.”

“Fine.”

You just don’t know how to tell her that you might be alone for the rest of your life.

Bucky walks into his home, tired from the day’s events. He shuffles into his room and yanks off his police belt before tossing it on the bed. His precinct just got a new Captain, and he hasn’t been exactly welcoming to the team. All he needs is a hot shower, some food, and a good night’s rest.

He sits on his bed and allows himself ten minutes of blissful silence, but that’s when he hears it.

A heart beating.

He takes out the pocket watch he found and opens it. Still beating. It doesn’t even know it’s missing from its owner. He’d give anything to know who this belongs to. Bucky reaches into the drawer beside his bed and takes out his own pocket watch. Both hearts are beating but out of sync.

Beat. Beat.

Beat…

The two hearts find rhythm together and start beating at the same time. Suddenly, every bone in Bucky’s body starts relaxing. He doesn’t even know who the heart belongs to, but he feels safe with it. He feels like whoever this belongs to wouldn’t judge him or the mistakes he’s made in the past. The steady beat of both hearts is enough to lull Bucky to sleep… still in his uniform.

It’s only the next day when you notice it’s missing. You just about turned your house upside down trying to find it. Your heart is missing. Vanessa is on her way over to your place right now as soon as she gets the frantic call from you.

“I’m here!” she announces when she walks inside. She pauses at the state of your house. “Whoa. Y/N?”

“In my bedroom!”

She steps over the fallen pieces of furniture and walks into your room which is even messier. “Wow, you didn’t waste any time.”

“I lost my heart, Nessa! If I show up to Mom’s without it, I’ll be ridiculed. Like I need to give her yet another reason to be disappointed in me,” you sigh.

“Don’t freak out yet. When was the last time you had it?”

“At the bar with Jerry. I bumped into this guy and my purse fell, but I could have sworn I picked it up. It could be anywhere by now. If it gets damaged…”

You let the sentence hang unfinished. If a heart is damaged, the owner can get really sick or die depending on what the damage was.

“Don’t worry. We’ll go down to the police station and report it missing. These things have trackers on them.”

“The new ones do, Nessa. When we were born… They don’t have trackers in them.”

“It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. Come on, I’ll drive.”

Bucky walks into work feeling better than he has in years. He doesn’t remember a time when he slept and didn’t have nightmares. It’s all because of that heart he found. He should have reported it missing and posted something on local social media sites, but he can’t seem to part with it. What if the person doesn’t like him? What if the person hates him for stealing it? He’d never let anything bad happen to it which is why he carries it with him everywhere.

Right where a heart should be.

“Damn, Bucky, you look refreshed.” Bucky looks at his best friend and partner, Steve. They both joined the force right out of high school. “Did you get laid?”

“No, I just had the best sleep last night. No nightmares.”

Bucky walks to his desk and gets started on the paperwork he left last night. After about two hours sitting at his desk, he grabs his empty coffee mug and heads to the break room. He passes by the front door to get to it, not seeing you and Vanessa walking toward the building. He disappears into the break room at the same time you enter, and you look around the precinct for someone to help.

There is a blond man at his desk with his eyes on his phone, and you decide he’s the officer you want helping you. Everyone else looks busy.

“Excuse me, Officer?”

He looks up and puts his phone away. “What can I do for you ladies?”

“I’d like to report something stolen… missing… whatever. It’s my heart. I don’t know where it is.”

“What makes you think it’s stolen… missing… or whatever?” You give Officer Rogers your statement about the entire night you knew you had it. Meeting Jerry, showing it off, and bumping into someone. “Alright, I’ll look into this. I’ll give you a call if I find something.”

There’s not much you can do except wait, so you and Vanessa leave with a sinking feeling in your chests. The second you leave the precinct, Bucky walks out of the break room and heads to his desk with a fresh cup of coffee.

Instead of going to your mom’s for dinner, you decide to stay at work the whole time. It’s better than being at her place and being judged for not finding your “one” yet. You’re always being compared to Vanessa or your cousins since they’re all in successful relationships and you’re not.

You’re sitting behind the counter playing a game on your phone when the bell rings, signaling someone walked into the bookstore. You look up and meet familiar dark blue eyes.

“Bucky, hi,” you smile.

“You remember me?”

“You’re kind of hard to forget,” you mumble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if you had a certain book in store. The Giving Tree. My niece’s birthday is coming up, and she loves that book.”

“Yeah, it’s upstairs in the kid section.”

Bucky nods and walks off but comes back seconds later. “I always get lost. Will you show me?”

You smile and step away from your desk. You look at Bucky’s uniform in thought.

“I didn’t know you were a cop.”

“We only talked for three minutes,” Bucky laughs.

“Fair point. Do you like being an officer?”

“Love it, actually. I love being able to help people and bring justice to those who need it.”

“That’s very honorable. Better than being in this bookstore, I imagine.”

“Now don’t sell yourself short. This is a good place to work. You’re a guardian for a thousand worlds.”

“I actually haven’t heard that one before. Thanks,” laugh.

You and Bucky find yourselves lost in conversation even though you showed Bucky where the book was several minutes ago. You’re both single, you both prefer alone time rather than the bars, and you both love reading. Eventually, you have to go back downstairs to check him out even though you don’t want the conversation to stop.

“I hope this isn’t too forward but you’re very easy to talk to. I can tell you’re a good guy.”

Bucky leans on the counter with a dazzling smile. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow? I can pick you up.”

“I’d love to,” you grin.

That’s the start of your relationship with Bucky. It doesn’t matter if you’re in your small bookstore or at a crowded restaurant, he makes everyone around you two disappear. All your problems melt away when you’re with him, and you think he feels the same about you. A few months pass of flirty comments and romantic dates when you think about asking him to be your boyfriend, to be in a more serious relationship.

Bucky can’t contain his happiness even at work, and Steve watches him with a slight smile on his face. It’s been a long time since he’s seen his friend be this happy.

“She makes me happy, Steve. I want to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“Are you having any more nightmares? Even from my apartment, I could hear your screams.”

“They’ve gone away. Ever since I found that heart, I’ve been sleeping better.”

“What?”

“What?” Bucky asks in confusion.

“A few months ago, Y/N came into the precinct to report a missing heart. You never mentioned it before, and I’ve been waiting for the owners to get back to me with the footage inside the bar. I was just about to look at it.”

Bucky gets up and walks behind Steve so that he can see the video. Steve takes out the flash drive that’s on his desk and plugs it into his computer. Footage of the bar comes up on screen, and Steve fast-forwards it to the night you were there with Jerry. There is only one camera pointed at the main dining area, so they can only see the back of your head and Jerry’s face.

Thirty minutes go by when he leaves, leaving you all alone. You leave to go the bathroom and Steve switches to the camera that’s in the hallway where the bathrooms are. When you leave, you end up bumping into Bucky and your purse falls to the ground. Something clunky rolls away from you two and skirts to a stop in the corner.

Forgotten about. Left for anyone to find. Left for Bucky to find. Your heart.

After you leave, Bucky ends up picking the heart. Bucky reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out the heart he’s come to be so fond of.

“This is hers?” Bucky whispers.

“You know what you’ve got to do.”

Right before your shift ends, Bucky walks into the bookstore wearing dark jeans, a black button-up, and a black jacket. He looks so devilishly handsome.

“Hi, Bucky,” you greet. You lean forward and kiss him across the counter. “I’m just about finished with my shift.”

“Okay,” he nods.

“Are you okay? You look nervous.”

“I’m okay. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

You finish putting away the last of the books back on the shelves before changing into your date night clothes. It’s a simple sundress that stops at your knees. Perfect for the warm weather outside.

“I’m ready,” you grin.

There is a restaurant that was built right next to a calming river that Bucky takes you to. You’ve wanted to come here but you didn't want to go alone. Bucky gets a table near the river so you can enjoy the sound of trickling water while you eat. After the waitress takes your drink orders, Bucky clears his throat.

“Okay, why do you look so nervous?”

“I want to ask you something but I can’t knowing I have something of yours.”

“Of mine? What is it?” Bucky takes out your pocket watch from his jacket and you gasp softly when you see it. “I’ve been looking for that for months. I thought I lost it. Where did you find it?”

“At the bar when you ran into me.”

“You’ve had this for months?”

“I didn't know it was yours until this morning. This is mine.” Bucky takes out his pocket watch and opens both of them. They’re still beating in sync like they belong together. They only do that when you’ve found the one. “I’ll give you yours back but what I’d really like to do is give you mine. You make the… The first night I took this home, I didn't have any nightmares. I’ve been having them since I was a teenager. You make them go away.”

“Bucky,” you whisper.

“I know it’s selfish bringing this up but I really like you. I was going to come here and ask you to be my girlfriend. It was supposed to be this whole thing, but I understand if your answer changes knowing I’ve had your heart the entire time.” You stare at him like he has three heads, and he sighs. “Am I messing this up?”

You grin after a few seconds. “No. I’m usually the one who messes it up.”

He reaches across the table and grabs your hand. “What I feel for you, I’ve never felt about anyone else. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation.

He slides his pocket watch over to you. “This belongs to you now.”

You grab it and hold it close to your chest. “I’ll cherish it always.”

You make a vow there and now that you’ll never misplace a pocket watch ever again.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fluff #marvel angst #mcu #mcu fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu angst #mcu fanfic #mcu fic

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cherrycranes · 3 days ago

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Gringo Boyfriend: Feliz Navidad (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You bring your american boyfriend Neil to your family home in Mexico to spend christmas (and keep it quiet when you wanna get freaky) Word count: 5,329 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is mexican and has a loving family. A LOT of mexican traditions and yapping. Oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial. A pause between both sex scenes. P in v, protected sex, fingering, quiet sex. You do all of this in your parents' house btw. Author's notes: This fanfic is written in collaboration with my dear @honeydew-angel and is a part 2 of the Gringo boyfriend fic! Merry christmas babies!

The big light-up speaker one of your uncles had settled on a corner blasted songs from La Sonora Dinamita that barely covered the sounds of chatter and laughter. Introducing your gringo boyfriend to your family in Mexico was a success, despite the language barrier.

Neil, "el gringo" or "el güero", as your relatives called him, was the novelty of the Christmas function this year. Everybody wanted to talk to him in varying degrees of English proficiency. Your cousins held perfectly fine convos with him, your older relatives tried their best. You could add "live translator" to your resume from that point forward.

He was real sweet, everybody charmed by both his attitude and, of course, his beautiful baby blue eyes. Your grandmother made him stop blinking for about a minute so she could admire the color up close and reminisce about a long dead relative of hers who also had blue eyes. Then Neil's eyeballs were immediately hit with the cool December night breeze again as your little cousins got curious about blue eyes too. He let them, picking the littlest one up so he could see them better.

For being such an angel, Neil got treated to delicious snacks. Chilli powder covered peanuts, bites of crunchy buñuelos and a small cup of creamy apple salad to not starve while awaiting for the main dinner. The prospect of having this every Christmas of his life from that point forward only reinforced Neil’s determination to wife you up one day.

Once everyone had their time getting to know, admire, and tease your boyfriend, you pulled him away from your aunts and cousins to introduce him to the most important and special people in your life. You were nervous about how they would treat and like Neil. You knew your grandparents well; they were like second parents to you. This made you anxious about knowing their opinion of him.

You approached them in a little corner, somewhat isolated from all the noise and chatter. Neil quickly sensed that you were nervous, so he said he would go to the car to grab something. He had the excellent idea to bring little gifts for each of your relatives, one more significant than the other, since he didn’t know them very well yet but immediately knew what to give your grandparents—some DVDs of the most beloved and famous Pedro Infante movies, which your grandparents adore.

He returned with a small Christmas gift bag, and you assumed it had the classic 50s golden-era films. This seemed to calm you down since it was a perfect way for him to approach your grandparents. Holding Neil’s hand, you led him to sit next to them in that quiet corner. You let go of his hand to greet them with a kiss and a hug—how much you had missed them. Neil watched the heartwarming scene, feeling a bit awkward, unsure of what to do.

After asking them how they had been, you grabbed Neil’s hand and introduced him in Spanish.

“Abuelitos, él es Neil, mi novio”. (‘Grandparents, this is Neil, my boyfriend.’) You said with a little embarrassment in your tone. Bringing Neil close, he tried to introduce himself in spanish.

“Hola, m-mucho gusto, soy Neil”. (‘Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Neil.’) Your grandparents laughed a little seeing how nervous Neil was.

They introduced themselves in Spanish, saying it was a pleasure to finally meet the man that everyone is talking about, while Neil, making a big effort to comprehend, just nodded with a big blush on his cheeks. You found it endearing how nervous he looked, with his cheeks turning red and the way he was trying so hard to understand.

Neil, taking the initiative, moved closer to your grandparents. With great effort and good memory, he repeated the words you had taught him the night before while you were cuddled in bed.

"Es un pequeño regalo... p-para ustedes," (‘This is a little gift… F-for you.’) he said, struggling to find the words and with the pronunciation, his face full of both a shy smile and embarrassment. Your grandparents laughed and took the gift. You added that the idea for the gift had been Neil’s.

Your grandparents opened the small bag and found five DVDs of their favorite Pedro Infante movies inside. They were surprised, and your grandfather stood up and hugged Neil. Neil responded, now feeling more relaxed after seeing their positive reaction. Ya lo amaban.

"Muchas gracias, mija, qué bonito detalle de parte de ustedes dos, pero no creas que con esto me va a gustar tu güero, eh!!" (‘Thank you so much, sweetie, what a nice gift from you two. But don’t think that with this I’ll finally like your white guy, eh!’) Your grandfather’s comment made you laugh, while your grandmother rolled her eyes and told you not to listen to him. She hugged both you and Neil.

Neil, confused about what was happening, asked you what they had said. Feeling a little guilty for forgetting that he didn’t understand, you explained, and he just smiled. The four of you spent more time sitting together, catching up with your grandparents, and sharing a bit about how you and Neil met and how obsessed he had become with the old Mexican 50s golden cinema movies. You felt proud of that.

Neil felt at home. Knowing that the family of his beloved girlfriend already treated him like part of their own made him feel that he could get used to this.

When your grandparents’ attention was required towards different conversations, your little cousins, finding Neil just as likable as a new toy, came up to him to play. The sight of Neil picking them up, giving them piggy back rides and playing with them outside made your guts whine and beg. He was so patient, so fun, all the potential of being a good dad shining through and giving your insides a longing that did not care for time, money and your current life situation.

“One baby, just one, please” they cried, volume intensifying at the sound of your boyfriend’s laughter and your little cousins’ overjoyment. You shushed your instincts as best as you could, nearly distracted from the general life conversation with an aunt, but ultimately, you failed. Your eyes always found their way to Neil playing with the kids and everything yours ached and yearned. And while you wouldn’t satisfy the nearly cavewoman-y need to have Neil’s babies right now as your own logical thinking got in the way, there were other things you could and would do.

You couldn't resist the urge of your own necessities as a woman, how could one have a straight face and suppose to feel nothing, watching a man both handsome and cute, treating children as his own? One could never! So you excused yourself with one of your aunts giving her a vague excuse of needing to show something to Neil.

You made your way to the backyard, where Neil was playing with your little cousins. You just couldn't contain yourself anymore. Watching the way the kids adore him, it was driving you mad insane. So you told your little cousins Neil needed to do something really important, they nodded with a pout on their faces.

“¿Me prometes que vas a volver?” (Do you promise you’ll be back?) The littlest one asked him. Somehow Neil understood that and just nodded, saying “yes, I promise”. You grabbed him by the hand and gave him a mischievous look, guiding him to the upstairs bathroom, you were too clever to do all the depraved things in the downstairs guest bathroom.

Neil, oh, Neil, always a good boy, following you around without any doubt, doing whatever you want when you want it. Doing all the things he could possibly do to make and see you happy. Little does he know what was about to happen.

Once you made sure nobody followed and watched you enter the same bathroom with Neil. You furiously grabbed him by his ugly sweater and pushed him onto you with a passionate kiss. Neil couldn't contain the little whimper that escaped from his soft lips. The savageness with which you pulled him, already making him hard. He struggled to keep up with your needy pace, between kisses he managed to say something.

“B-baby!,” another kiss. “Baby! W-we, we need to stop!” He opened his mouth, already full of desire, to catch a breath once you pulled apart from his now swollen lips to just look at him intensely into his eyes. This made him flinch. “Uhmm, I- your, I mean—y-your family will suspect where we are!”

He was all red and flustered, struggling to find the words and maintain eye contact with you. Finding his stuttering a turn on, and the way his mouth heavy opened in search of air. You pulled his ugly sweater off the way and made your way to kiss his neck. You knew how your teasing little kisses excited him a little too much.

You started by the crook of his neck. Alternating between going to his weak spot—the back of his neck, and going down. Provoking anytype of whimper and whine from him. Leaving a mark right beside his neck mole. How cruel of you. You were enjoying this a little too much. By the time passing, Neil was growing needy. He grabbed you by your hip and pushed you against the wall turning you around, he returned the teasing kisses to your neck. Trying to take off your matching ugly sweater, but you didn't let him. Instead you pushed him, again, into the sink counter.

Taking his ugly sweater off, your hands making its way to caress and to leave a way of goosebumps throughout his chest. You focused a little too much on his sensitive nipples. You looked straight into his eyes and without hesitation you leaned and suckled one of his nipples. Neil felt like he was about to cum in his pants. You have never tried something like this before, but he sure liked it. He almost moaned by the sensation of your soft lips licking and teasing one of his nipples, he tried to hold back anytype of sound emitting from his lips. You pulled apart and whispered something into his ear.

“Oh, amor, you have no idea what you did to me out there”. Neil felt like he would explode right there and then.

“Sweetie, I-I have no idea of what you're talking about”. You just giggled.

One of your hands going down to touch his clothed crotch. This took Neil by surprise, he held back his whimper.

“Oh!, sweetie, you better stop or someone will come for us”. You didn't respond, to focus on rubbing your hand against his hard clothed cock. Starting to unbuckle the belt, you fell onto your knees. Looking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“Hmmm, baby-y, come on, we can't, your famil-” you didn't let him finish his sentence, because you pulled out his cock and give the tip little love kisses. Tasting the sweet flavour of his precum.

“Ohh, fuck, sweetie, that feels so good”. That gave you more motivation to continue and to lick and suck his thick and large cock like the most delicious mango with chamoy and miguelito ice cream. Neil made a fist with your hair and guided your head up and down at his own pace.

“Hmm, baby. Come on sweet thing, don't stop.”

You were a mess, drooling down your own spit and sweating a little for the effort. You pulled out for breath, Neil whined and made you go back to aggressively suck his cock. You weren't planning on letting him cum. You felt Neil twitch inside your warm mouth, that indicated you to pull apart.

“Mmph! Oh! Sugar. I-I’m about to come. Please! Please don't stop!” He pouted, his mouth into an agape waiting for his silent release. And then you suddenly pulled apart. This seems to make Neil groan. Looking down at you with needy eyes.

“Baby! W-why did you stop?!”. With the same innocent doe eyed gaze and teasing look in your eyes. You stand up, cleaning all the drool you had left on your mouth. Neil was too confused and desperate.

“What? I thought that was what you wanted after all, precioso.” You didn't even give him a chance to fight back, because you opened the door and walked away. Leaving him all needy, bothered and unsatisfied. You can't deny it though, you are dripping wet and your panties are soaked. You didn't focus on your pleasure, sure there will be more time for that…

You weren't aware of how long you had been over there just teasing and overstimulating your sweet needy boyfriend, when you came downstairs, you noticed how busy all your family was, putting everything into place, accommodating the expensive crockery and silverware on the table and getting everything ready to eat. You felt relieved for a moment, nobody noticed the large amount of time you two were gone.

Poor Neil and his hard cock had to stay extra time in the bathroom, little whimpers muffled by his lip bite as you nonchalantly helped your grandmother to set the table down for dinner. You smiled to yourself, bottles of apple cider and glass cups clinking against the table. Nearly a buffet of several dishes made by your mom, your grandma, your aunts and even your cousins presented in different styles of containers for everyone to choose from.

“Neil! Amor!. Time for dinner!” You called out for him so innocently yet chuckling pure mischief out of your system. Reluctantly and tucked as best as he could under his pants and ugly matching sweater, Neil emerged from the bathroom. One of his hands rubbed the side of your arm with a clear cute complaint. You smiled and pretended to not understand, taking him to the table to now add “culinary expert guide” to your set of skills.

One by one, you explained what the dishes were, some more familiar to him than others: turkey with stuffing, baked pork leg bathed in sauce, tamales, mixiotes, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad and creamy spaghetti, along with a variety of homemade salsas.

Your guidance was meant to be a saving grace for his white guy palate. Whatever was too spicy for him was going to be a no, but Neil didn't want to look ungrateful. That was the story of the first time he experienced "enchilarse": getting overwhelmed by the spiciness and feeling like his tongue burnt.

“¿Qué le pasa al güero?” (‘What’s up with the white guy?’) An uncle asked with just the slightest bit of concern but mostly just amusement, swirling a styrofoam cup of hot fruit punch in his hand.

“Se enchiló.” (‘He got overwhelmed by the spiciness’), you explained just as calmly, with Neil trying his best to act brave and downing his second glass of ice cold coke.

Your uncle laughed and went his way, leaving you two alone for less than a minute. Neil had not yet recovered from the fire on his tongue when one of your aunts called you both over, a colorful star piñata on her arms and a pack of cousins urging you on.

“So… When it’s your turn, what you’re gonna do is grab that broomstick and hit the piñata with all your pent up rage, baby. Easy!” You explained, guiding Neil by the hand. Your tallest uncle worked the pulley system out in the yard, crepe paper of all the color spectrum dangling and flicking over.

“Don’t you have to be blindfolded for this?” Neil asked, his source, as usual, being the movies.

“Ehh…. Some people do it but, honestly, knowing my cousins… It’s not a good idea…” You grimaced, visions of flying broomsticks and accidental hits filling your head before you shook them all off.

“Anyways! We sing this song every time somebody comes to hit it. Just… Clap your hands for now…” You smiled, granting him some mercy. Your poor gringo barely knew a few words in Spanish, how would you ask him to sing a whole song?

“Yeah, babe. Don’t worry. In no time I’ll even be singing rancheras.” Neil smirked, that sweet lovely smirk of his that made your knees weak. You chuckled, where did he learn that from? Probably from one of the many golden era Mexican movies he had watched ever since he first met you. You leaned closer, placing a loving peck on his rosy lips. He hummed in delight, adoration coursing through the veins of his hands that cupped your beautiful face. Suddenly, an auntie patted you on the back.

“¡Déjense ahí, que ya van a partir la piñata!” (‘Knock it off, they’re gonna break the piñata!’) Your aunt exclaimed, your youngest cousin holding a paper decorated broomstick with the help of his mom. Settling with Neil by the sidelines, the whole “dale, dale, dale, no pierdas el tino” chant started, with your boyfriend so graciously marking the beats.

Organized by age, your younger relatives took turns hitting the piñata, some just grazing it, some knocking whole sections off its structure and making them hit the ground. During your turn, Neil cheered as if you were running an olympic marathon. Sweet on his behalf, although the damage done to the piñata was rather minimal for its dying state. It needed a mercy blow from a guy with strong arms… and pretty blue eyes.

Your family cheered for “el güero”, Neil took the broomstick with charming awkwardness and gave it a tentative blow before hitting the cardboard with a loud thud.

“Yeah, baby!” You cheered in between chants, Neil’s softball experience shining through with his final blow. Candies of all kinds, pieces of paper and cardboard flew all over the yard in a longed-for rain. Everybody, even your family members who didn’t even take a turn to hit the piñata, rushed to pick something off the floor. Neil’s big hands cradled fistfuls of bubblegum, lollipops, and chocolates that would go straight to one of the cones from the piñata that you rescued from the ground to use as a makeshift goodie bag.

When everybody’s hunt for candy ended and after a second piñata was brought over the pulley system, Neil found his new title as the piñata finisher of your family from that point forward. A new good amount of candy filled your colorful cone. Neil, being a gentleman, gave you everything he picked up.

After everyone had fun with the piñata and your younger cousins were fighting over who got the most candy, it was time for the most special and intimate moment as a family: opening the gifts! You had a tradition—after dinner and breaking the piñata, it was usually around 1 or 2 in the morning. That meant it was no longer Christmas Eve but officially Christmas. Time for the presents.

Of course, the youngest ones in the family didn’t waste any time. They rushed to the Christmas tree, eagerly searching for gifts with their names on them. Once they found them, your uncles and aunts took pictures of the huge smiles on their faces when they saw they had received what they wanted.

Then it was time for the adults! The tradition was to start with the youngest and work up to the oldest. A few of your younger cousins went first, their faces lighting up with big smiles as they unwrapped the thoughtful gifts they’d been given. Then it was your turn—and Neil’s.

Neil had the idea to start by giving out the gifts you had brought from the U.S. Naturally, everyone was curious and excited to see what you had brought. Neil, frustrated by his inability to communicate in Spanish, left the talking to you. He stood firmly by your side, holding your hand tightly, as if he thought you might run away.

"Familia, Neil y yo pensamos en cada uno de ustedes y trajimos regalos para todos, espero que les gusten!" (Family, Neil and I thought about each one of you and brought you gifts for everybody, I hope you like them!) You said, a huge smile on your face. Neil was captivated watching how happy you were being with your family. It made him want to be part of it forever.

Neil started handing out the gift bags and boxes to your family. Occasionally, he mixed up the names, but you were always there by his side to help him. When everyone began unwrapping their gifts one by one, the room was filled with laughter and exclamations: "Se la rifaron, prima," "Gracias, güero y prima!" "¿Cómo lo supieron?" "¡Está chidísimo, gracias, mija!" along with the sound of wrapping paper being torn open.

Watching your family so happy and united again made you wish you hadn’t been away for so long. Neil sat beside you, watching your relatives’ joyful reactions. As usual, he didn’t understand a word, but seeing you smile and your family so content was more than enough for him. Neil truly felt like part of your family.

After the excitement of the gifts brought from the U.S., it was the adults’ turn to open their presents. You couldn’t have been happier in those moments—your wonderful boyfriend was right there with you, and your family was having such a great time! And now, it seemed like your entire family adored him.

You felt overwhelmingly grateful and happy for this beautiful Christmas gift—true joy.

After everyone had shown off their gifts and shared their happiness at what they received for Christmas, it was time to dance. Of course, as good Mexicans, everyone hit the floor to dance to the rhythm of classic cumbias from Los Ángeles Azules or La Sonora Dinamita. Watching everyone dance made you want to pull Neil onto the dance floor.

He, reading your thoughts, stood up and reached for your hand. God, you truly loved the courage he showed at times like this.

"Baby, are you sure you know how to dance this?" you teased him.

"Of course, mi amor. At least I can try! Besides, I can’t be the only one not dancing with his beautiful girlfriend here!" The way he called you mi amor made butterflies flutter in your stomach like you were a 16-year-old girl again. You nodded and giggled.

You led the dance, and surprisingly, Neil matched your steps and the rhythm of the music effortlessly. It was almost as if he had been practicing—had he? You couldn’t help but wonder. Lately, he had improved so much, and it caught you off guard.

You were even more surprised when he danced to banda, salsa, merengue, and even the traditional songs at every Mexican party, like El Payaso del Rodeo. He didn’t stop there; he joined in on the most popular reggaeton hits, hyping up the party even more. You had no idea how Neil managed to keep up with so much dancing, singing, and chaos. It was clear he loved Mexican parties—and you loved him even more for it.

Later, the karaoke session began. When the most emotional songs started playing, your cousins and aunts grabbed the microphones to sing their hearts out. The songs ranged from salsa to Tex-Mex, banda, and even reggaeton.

By 5 a.m., the youngest kids were fast asleep on two chairs pushed together, wrapped in a blanket. Your cousins, however, were more alive than ever, while the adults were starting to give in to exhaustion.

Everyone finally agreed it was time to sleep. Exhausted, sweaty, and worn out from all the dancing and singing, they were eager to rest. The next day would be just as special—reheating Christmas dinner and spending more time with the family.

The bed distribution of the house was simple, you’d stay in your bedroom with Neil because, in all honesty, your parents were not naive and you two were adults. Neil sighed all the activities of the night away, throwing himself on your bed and bouncing over the cushions. You chuckled, throwing yourself by his side too.

“Did you have fun, love?” You asked with comforting enthusiasm, your arm coming to rest on his chest.

“It was nearly the best Christmas of my life, baby.” Neil whispered, his head turning to gaze into your eyes.

“Nearly??” You rose, an eyebrow curved and a play-pretend offence plastered all over your face.

“Yeah.” He just said, a chuckle hidden in the curve of his lips.

“But why, love?” You whined, leaning over him face to face.

“Because… my girl here decided to tease me and leave me all alone to jerk off in my in-laws’ bathroom like a horny highschooler…” He murmured, cupping your face lovingly but firmly.

“... Can I make it up to you?....” You tested every word out like they were brand new, the neglected dampness of your pussy coming back with fury. To make the statement clear, you took hold of your ugly sweater and tossed it aside, your lacy bra looking right at him. Neil’s expression softened, his mouth went dry. Once again, he was dumbfounded by you.

“Oh, baby… But won’t they he-” Right away, you devoured the rest of the sentence off his mouth. Sweet traces of candy and cider mixing in both tongues, yours was needy, painfully slow.

“We’ll be quiet…” You murmured against his plump rosy lips, not resisting the temptation of kissing them again. Tentatively, he rose, the kiss intact. He palmed the back of his jeans in search of something, you sat on your knees and took hold of what he presented to you: his opened wallet, a golden wrapper shining with the filtered moonlight from the curtains.

“As quiet as we can…” You corrected with a grin, the sound of the wrapper stupidly loud in the silent night. Neil hurried up, jeans and boxers down, his cock hard again and seeking you after everything you teased him with.

Swiftly and well used to this, your hand took the condom and slid it down his aching dick. Neil´s lip stung with the sharp bite of his canine, his hands magnetically attracted to the clasp of your bra. He fumbled, you giggled, easing him with a kiss, anxiety at being heard, the possibility of your parents’ judgement and the pent up desire he felt for you manifesting in the nerve endings of his hands. Finally, he managed, pretty lace tossed into an unknown spot. Your pretty tits did not even have a second to feel the bedroom air when Neil’s hungry mouth stuck to one nipple.

“Neil…” A soft, breathy whisper that would not make it past the bricks, spackle and coats of paint that surrounded you. For Neil’s ears only. His crooked bottom tooth grazed the sensitive flesh, a soft suck to his defined shoulder silencing the louder reaction it got from you.

He sucked fervently, having to open his mouth to let your nipple go without a loud pop. Right away, he searched for the other one, sending shivers down your spine and into your soaked pussy. On instinct, you shifted, the denim around you burning your skin from just how aware you were of its uselessness. Neil resented your absence as you stood up to undress but quickly, the feeling of the rest of his clothes weighed heavy. Soon you were back on top, both fully naked and your dripping pussy looming over the tip of his dick.

“Baby…” He started, your lips shushing him off right away and capturing his low groan when you took hold of his hard latex clad cock.

After a few pumps, you pressed the tip to your wet entrance and sank ever so slowly. Neil fought everything in him to keep it quiet. Your tightness, your warmth, your sweet body… He was done for.

Slowly and quietly, you took him for a ride, his hands grabbed you hips tightly, holding onto you for support. In your thoughts, as you started to pick up the pace and you pussy took him in deeper, you thanked whoever manufactured both your bed and your mattress for unknowingly making them so quiet. You relaxed after a roll of your hips tested just how loud this bed could get, not much, as long as you didn’t fuck him like you wanted him to die on the spot.

Neil swallowed thickly, the veins of his cock pumping madly. He throbbed inside you, you clenched around him and then steadied the pace, gentle enough to not make the bed creak loudly, fast enough to make your tits bounce.

His hands cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples with the same speed you rolled your hips at. He tested a move, bucking his hips and sending his cock deeper in your tight cunt. It was now your turn to muffle out a moan.

It was pathetic to Neil, but after what you did in the bathroom, he was not in conditions to last long, pressure already building up in his balls the more you bounced on him and throbbed around his cock.

Sneaking out, a moan from him made your quick hands cover his mouth before the rest could resonate within your room. Neil’s baby blue eyes squinted in an apology, you kept riding, accepting it.

Your hips kept rolling, your pussy kept squeezing him so stickily, Neil gripped your hips in need and over all, desperation. His hips kept bucking with some minimal wooden creaking from your bed. He felt everything around his thick cock sizzle and, before he could warn you with a sound muffled by the palm of your hand, a hot spurt of cum filled the condom.

He shut his eyes, his lips pressing against your palm and almost burning his print on it from just how hard he did it. His hips bucked, you bounced on him more, your greedy pussy forgetting for a moment about the condom and eagerly milking him dry. His nails left crescent moons on your hips.

Your cunt nested him for a while, his hot breath tickling the skin of your hand. It was then when, in the serenity of his post-orgasmic bliss and your still not satisfied but content state, Neil caught you by surprise. With a hidden supply of stamina, Neil flipped you over, the bed gently grunting beneath you.

“I should leave you like this…” He groaned into your neck, placing a kiss on the skin there before lifting himself off. A well deserved revenge from the bathroom incident. You whined, your pussy fluttering and begging for more, so close yet so far from an orgasm that he could easily deny you like you denied him.

And he would, if he had an ounce of cockiness or mischief or the stupidity that would allow a man to have such a beautiful girl like you and just decide not fully please her. But he wasn’t like that. Your sweet, adoring, whipped Neil couldn’t even house the thought in his head for more than a few seconds.

So, he killed you with kindness, giving you a loving kiss and snaking his hand towards your long ignored clit. You moaned, Neil kissed you deeper. The perfect ebbing electricity of his touch made your body tremble.

“Neil…” You whimpered into his mouth, his guitar scars adding a rougher edge to your sensitive flesh. Neil circled your clit faster, your own slick easing this. Your sweet pussy clenched around nothing right before a finger fixed that problem.

His touch was so certain, so good. Neil did not stop once, he didn't leave you hanging. His finger pumping your tight warm pussy, his thumb circling your clit until your toes curled over the duvet and your cunt fluttered on its own. A second finger came into the scene to stretch you open the curl inside you. You whimpered as quietly as you could, and before you knew it, you had to bite onto his shoulder to muffle out your cry of pleasure.

Neil helped you through your orgasm and guided you along so lovingly, so patiently, even with the sting on his flesh. At the end, he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean with a gentle groan, nuzzling against you in a loving embrace, confirming what you already knew: this was the best Christmas of your life.

Pinterest moodboard to help you visualize a mexican christmas!

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