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ch33z3grits · 1 month ago

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Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

warnings: 18+ mdni, dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, smut (fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, dominant/submissive dynamics, squ*rting, cr*am p*e, Daddy k*nk, worship, pet names (baby girl, princess), overst*mulation), parental issues, description of panic attacks, manipulation, mentions of arson, implied cheating

*author's note at the end!

word count: 9,321

Camille's song: Kiss it Better-Rihanna | Terry's song: Skin-Mac Miller

Pt. Nine

Camille

Camille paced back and forth in Kali’s bedroom, nearly tripping over her maxi dress as she worried over her missing phone. She was sure she left it with her clutch in the back of Terry’s black car last night. If she hadn’t been so eager to put her thighs on his shoulders while he ate her like she was his last meal, she would’ve remembered to grab it.

Last night…

God…

It was the most alive she had felt in years. From being able to be so vulnerable and release years of emotional tension to being able to tap into the sexual fantasies that had been tormenting her for months, last night felt like an otherworldly dream. But now, Camille was back in reality. How was she supposed to face Terry, or anyone from the firm, after everything that had happened? The chaotic scene they had all witnessed... it wasn’t just embarrassing, it was career-suicide.

In a perfect world, she’d just type up a vague resignation email, hit send, and vanish. Take a vacation during her last two weeks, then turn into a ghost. No goodbyes, no explanations. She would just be the distant figure forever remembered as the fringe connection to the man who had a complete meltdown at one of the most prestigious events of the year. The unlucky fiancé.

But this, unfortunately, was not a perfect world. And Camille, lost in a love-drunk daze, had completely forgotten about her clutch. Which meant her phone. And her cards. And her ID. And she couldn’t leave those behind no matter what. Which meant she had to face Terry for, hopefully, the final time. Her boss who had her folded in the back of a sleek Suburban like a pretzel.

Sure, he had been kind. And so very gentle. He had walked her back to Kali’s apartment like a gentleman, wrapped her up in his expensive suit jacket, and called her soft, intimate things like baby in a tone that made her heart clench. And in those quiet hours of the night, wrapped in what felt dangerously close to affection, she had let herself believe there might have been something real in that moment. That maybe he felt it, too.

But Camille wasn’t naive. Not anymore. They were swept up in adrenaline and vulnerability and the craziness of Aston’s outburst. She knew how easy it was to mistake emotional whiplash for connection. She wouldn’t let herself hope. Wouldn’t let herself open her heart to him.

She couldn’t let him in. Even if all she really wanted was to run away with him and never look back. Never think about this twisted, exhausting, fucked-up life again.

“I think you should at least shoot him an email,” Kali said gently, perched cross-legged on the edge of her bed as she watched Camille with quiet concern. “I’m sure he found it. Or the driver did! He’s probably just waiting to hear from you to give it back.”

Camille let out a weary sigh, her shoulders sagging as she paused mid-step. She shook her head, not even trying to hide her nervous energy.

“The last thing I should be doing right now is seeing him face to face,” she muttered. “You know how awkward that would be?”

Kali rolled her eyes, a gesture that was more fond than frustrated. But then she straightened, her tone shifting.

“Camille.”

Camille froze, her heart skipping a beat. Kali never used her government name unless she was being deadly serious.

“Please,” Kali said, her voice softening. “Why are you running from this man? Why are you running from how you feel?”

Camille’s jaw clenched, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. She didn’t answer right away. How could she? The truth was just too heavy.

She knew why she was running. Everything about this felt too good to be true. The man she’d tried so hard not to fall for had crept into her heart anyway and now it was too late. She was head over heels, and the terrifying part was, it seemed like he might feel the same. But how could that be?

Men like him didn’t stay. Not with girls like her.

He’d go back to New Orleans soon, to his flashy club and his dangerous charm and the whirlwind of distractions that followed him everywhere. Eventually, he’d find someone else, someone new and shiny to chase. And when he did, it would crush her. Leave her broken.

And then… there was Aston. Her engagement still hung in limbo. What did it even mean now? Would the wedding still move forward, ticking along on that suffocating 60-day countdown? Or had Aston’s very public meltdown pushed everything off course?

Aston…

Despite everything, she still hoped he was okay. Yes, he had humiliated her, confessing his love to another woman in front of half the firm, in the most dramatic way possible. Yes, he had made a complete mess of everything. But still… that wasn’t the Aston she knew. Not the one she’d known all these years. Something inside him must be terribly wrong for him to act like that.

And she had just… left. Let that whole mess burn and walked away. That guilt gnawed at her.

She was so cruel for not checking on him after. She needed to see how he was doing. Once, she got her phone…

“Kali, last night… we were just caught up in the moment,” Camille said, her voice soft and almost pleading, as if trying to convince herself more than her friend. She wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to find comfort. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kali, who was rarely at a loss for words, simply shook her head. She didn’t argue, didn’t tease, didn’t offer one of her usual sarcastic remarks. Instead, she gave Camille a long, sad look that rooted her to the spot.

“I just don’t know how you can’t see it, Cammie,” Kali said quietly. “That man looks at you like you made the sun and the stars all by yourself. That kind of look… that’s gotta mean something.”

“Kali,” Camille sighed, running her fingers through her hair in exasperation. “He’s a young, handsome, rich attorney who runs nightclubs in his spare time. He’s already slept with someone else at the firm. You really think I’m crazy for hesitating?”

Kali dragged a hand down her face, then threw both arms up in surrender. “Okay, fine, fine. I get it. On paper, the red flags are bright fucking red. But if you look past that Cammie, hasn’t he shown you who he is through how he treats you?”

Camille couldn’t deny it.

Because the truth was... yes. He had.

He’d been patient. Gentle. Curious about her in ways no one had been in years. With Aston, she’d always felt like she had to mold herself into the version of Camille that fit—poised, supportive, quiet when needed, impressive when expected. But with Terry, she could breathe. He asked her questions and actually listened. He remembered small things she said in passing, followed up without making her feel watched. There was something disarmingly tender about him that unsettled her more than any flirtation ever could.

He saw her.

“Yes,” Camille murmured under her breath. “He cares about me.”

Kali's face softened instantly, her expression shifting from exasperated to smug.

“So why would he do anything to hurt you, babe?” she said, one brow raised.

Camille looked away, her throat tightening. That was the question, wasn’t it?

Because if she let herself believe this was real… and it wasn’t? That would hurt worse than anything.

Camille opened her mouth to respond, ready to defend her guarded heart once again. But she was cut off by a sudden, firm knock on Kali’s apartment door. Her brows pinched in confusion. But Kali didn’t flinch. In fact, she moved with suspicious eagerness, springing from her bed and nearly tripping over her fuzzy socks as she beelined for the door like she’d been waiting for that knock. Camille trailed after her, a confused chuckle bubbling from her lips.

“Are you expecting someone?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Kali didn’t answer. Instead, she peeked through the peephole, then turned back with a sly smirk. Without a single word, she undid the lock and swung the door open.

There, standing casually in the hallway was Terry, one hand casually in his pocket, the other holding Camille’s clutch.

Camille’s breath caught in her throat.

Heat flooded her cheeks as her stomach flipped in a chaotic mix of panic and giddiness.

“Hey, Terry,” Kali cooed, tossing Camille a sideways glance. “Oh look! You brought her clutch. How thoughtful!” The tone of her voice was unmistakable. It screamed, ‘Yes, we were absolutely talking about you.’

Camille wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

Terry smirked. “Yes ma’am,” he said smoothly, his voice dipped in charm. “Figured I couldn’t let her go a full day without her phone.”

His eyes found Camille’s, and the teasing glint in them made her knees feel weak.

“Thanks, Terry,” Camille mumbled, forcing a sheepish smile as she reached for the clutch, her fingers brushing against his accidentally.

Kali backed away from the door. “Well, don’t mind me!” she sang, giggling as she disappeared into the kitchen, pleased as punch. “Y’all take your time!”

Camille stood frozen, staring up at Terry as her heart thundered against her ribcage. For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. But then, she pulled herself together, determined to keep this interaction brief and as painless as possible.

“Sorry you had to come all the way out here,” she said quietly, her voice shy but steady, eyes dropping to the clutch in her hands. “I really should’ve been paying more attention.”

Terry chuckled, the sound low and easy. “No worries,” he replied with a casual shrug. “Gave me an excuse to come see you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. To see me? Her fingers tightened around the clutch, trying to keep her expression neutral, but inside, her heart turned into butterflies.

“Besides,” he added, “your phone’s been blowing up. Thought it might be something urgent.”

Camille’s brows knit together as she let out a surprised, barely audible, 'Oh?' Her phone was usually so dry, it might as well have been a desert. With a small frown, she flipped open her clutch and pulled out her phone as the screen lit up:

4 missed calls – Maybe: Houston Fire Department

2 missed calls – The Echelon Apartments

16 missed calls – Mother

14 messages – Mother

8 missed calls – Father

Her heart sank.

A sick feeling bloomed in her gut, tight and urgent. Something was wrong. Really wrong. Why would the fire department and her apartment building be calling her? Unless…

“I need to go check on my apartment,” she said abruptly, her voice tight and tinged with rising panic.

Terry’s brow furrowed, concern flashing across his face. “Everything alright?”

Camille looked up, forcing a nervous laugh, though her insides felt like unraveling thread. “Umm… I’m not sure?” she admitted, the end of the sentence lilting upward like a question. Her voice betrayed her, on the verge of cracking. It had been a long, unforgiving weekend, and this felt like the final blow.

Terry stepped forward, his voice gentle. “I can take you there, if you want.”

She looked at him—at the kindness in his eyes—and her heart ached. He was just so… sweet.

She gave him a soft, apologetic smile. “Thank you, Terry. Really. But I’ve already taken up too much of your time this weekend.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes steady on hers. “Come on, Camille. I promise, I don’t mind. Besides…” His voice dipped, more serious now. “We need to talk anyway.”

She swallowed hard. That conversation. The one she hoped she could avoid. But he looked at her so earnestly, like he could see through every excuse she was building in real-time. And she knew, deep down, she wouldn’t say no. Not to him.

“Well… alright,” she murmured, barely above a whisper.

He smiled as she turned to call a quick goodbye to Kali, who peeked her head out from the kitchen doorway with a smirk. Camille rolled her eyes, grabbed her sandals, and slipped them on without a word.

And then, she found herself walking out the door beside Terry… not knowing what to expect from their journey.

Camille was grateful for the calm that settled between them during the ride. The cabin of the car was hushed, save for the soft hum of the radio. No forced conversation. No questions. Just stillness, something she hadn’t felt in days.

Today, Terry had forgone the sleek black SUV and professional driver, instead driving in his usual striking Lamborghini Urus. Effortlessly powerful, unapologetically bold. Just like the man behind the wheel. Once she’d given him the address to her apartment, the silence gave her space to think. And her mind, starved of rest, devoured the opportunity.

Was her apartment alright? Did she lose everything she left behind? If so, where would she go after this? She couldn’t stay at Kali’s forever.

Her thoughts spiraled until a sudden warmth pulled her back. A large, comforting hand swept gently over the top of her head, his fingers lingering. Her breath caught.

“Camille?” Terry’s voice wrapped around her. “You okay?”

She blinked, realizing they were parked in her parking garage.

She forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah… sorry,” she murmured, quickly unclicking her seatbelt. “Thanks again for driving me.”

Terry glanced over at her, his expression unreadable. “You mind if I come up?” he asked casually, though his eyes said something different. It wasn’t really a question.

Camille hesitated, but decided she might need some support. “Not at all,” she breathed, praying silently that whatever was waiting upstairs wouldn’t break her.

The walk from the parking garage was uneventful, their footsteps echoing against the concrete as they made their way toward the elevator. But where the car ride had been peaceful, this silence felt… heavier. Dread curled in her chest, coiling tighter with every passing floor.

She fiddled with her keys in her pocket, trying not to fidget, trying not to let the worst-case scenarios take over. The elevator chimed softly as they reached her floor. And then, her stomach dropped. A distinct smell hit her the second the doors parted. Thick and smoky. Her legs felt like jelly.

Camille’s steps were unsteady as she made her way down the hallway, the smell hitting her harder with every step. Her chest tightened with each breath, and her stomach twisted into knots. The door to her apartment, usually shut tight, now hung slightly ajar. Low voices murmured on the other side, indistinct but urgent. Terry stayed close, his presence a quiet pillar she could mentally lean on.

She reached out with trembling fingers and slowly pushed the door open. The moment it gave way, a gasp tore from her lips, her hand flying to her mouth

Everything, everything, was scorched.

The once-cozy luxury apartment was now a bleak, depressing space. Charred walls, blackened from smoke and soot. Hardwood floors slick with ash and water residue. Particles floating in the air, catching what little sunlight filtered in through shattered windows at the far end of the room.

Her art, her plants, the delicate little touches Aston had allowed her to contribute to make the apartment a little more hers…all destroyed, consumed by what had clearly been an out-of-control blaze. The living room was unrecognizable. Picture frames were melted and warped on the floor. The kitchen island, once spotless and bright, was now covered in debris.

“Oh my God…” she choked out, voice cracking.

Three figures turned sharply at the sound.

Her father. Her mother. And Rachael, the property manager.

“Oh, Camille, I’m so sorry this happened,” Rachael said, rushing forward with genuine concern painted across her face. “We tried to reach you and Aston, but… no one was answering. I’m just glad your parents were able to get here.”

Camille could barely look at them. Her eyes were still moving, frantically scanning the wreckage. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice through the knot in her throat.

“What… what even happened?”

Rachael exhaled slowly, her voice gentle. “The fire department says it was electrical. They think it started from a hair straightener left plugged in.” She hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “But… I know you haven’t been here the past few days.”

Camille didn’t miss the hint. There was another woman. Someone else had been here while she was away. And her and Aston’s carelessness had nearly burned everything she owned to the ground. Camille didn't flinch. She didn’t even look surprised. Her face remained eerily calm as the pieces fell into place. She gave Rachael a slow, silent nod, acknowledging the unsaid.

“I-I have to return to the front office,” Rachael said awkwardly, clearly unsure of what else to say. “But please, don’t hesitate to stop by. We’ll do whatever we can to help you through this.”

Camille could hardly process her words, but she nodded anyway, her gaze still fixed on the remnants of her life.

“Thanks, Rachael,” she said. Rachael gave her a tight, apologetic smile before slipping past Terry and out the door.

“Camille,” her mother’s voice called out. “Let’s talk, sweetheart.”

Camille nodded reluctantly. She turned slightly towards Terry, who stood quietly off to the side, watching her with concern.

“Can you give us a minute?” she asked. He nodded, his gaze intense. “Of course,” he said softly, stepping out into the hallway and easing the door mostly closed behind him, giving her and her parents privacy.

Camille turned back toward her parents, slowly approaching them. Her mother’s face was a tight mask of worry, eyes red-rimmed, lips pressed together as if holding back tears. But her father’s expression was an entirely different story. Nothing but anger.

“Sweetheart, where have you been?” her mother said, reaching out and clasping Camille’s hand in both of hers. “We’ve been trying to reach you…”

“I lost my phone last night—” Camille started, but the explanation was cut short by a sharp scoff from her father.

“Maybe if you weren’t out with that man, playing his little slut, we would’ve been able to reach you,” her father snapped, his voice rising with every syllable. Camille flinched, her breath catching in her throat.

“Colin!” her mother gasped, but it didn’t stop him.

He shot her a dismissive look before locking eyes with Camille again. “This is all your fault, you know,” he muttered bitterly. Camille’s stomach twisted. She’d heard his criticisms a thousand times before, but this time they landed differently. He wasn’t just disappointed. He was blaming her for something beyond her control. And it hurt.

“H-How could you even say that?” Camille said, voice cracking. “I wasn’t even here!”

“Exactly!” he bellowed, taking a step forward. “If you hadn’t run off, if you had just stayed put, none of this would’ve happened! But no, you had to be selfish. You just had to throw a tantrum and disappear. What do you think Aston’s going to say when he gets out of the hospital, huh? Are you going to explain to him why he’s homeless now?”

Camille’s jaw clenched. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. She glanced at her mother, silently pleading for some sort of intervention, some pushback. A single word. A look. Anything. But her mom just looked away. Avoided her gaze. And in that moment, Camille understood exactly where she stood. Alone. She let out a humorless laugh. “Of course,” she whispered to herself. “Of course I’m the villain here.”

“Are you even listening to me, Camille?” her father barked, voice sharp as a whip. “You ungrateful–”

“Can you just shut the fuck up!” Camille exploded. Her parents recoiled, their eyes wide in stunned disbelief. Her mother’s lips parted in shock, one hand fluttering instinctively to her chest, while her father actually took a step back, blinking as if he’d been slapped. They looked at her like they didn’t recognize her.

“Do you…” her father began, his voice loud and disbelieving, as though he was still trying to process what had just happened. “Do you think you can just raise your voice at me–”

“Enough.” A guttural growl shook the room like a low thunderclap, vibrating in Camille’s bones, silencing everyone.

All eyes turned toward the doorway, where Terry stood, his broad frame filling the entrance. An unnatural stillness radiated from him, quiet and cold. Her father gulped audibly, the only sound in the smothering silence.

“I don’t know what this is about,” Terry began, voice cool and measured, yet predatory. “And I really don’t care. But I’ll be damned if I stand here and let either of you speak to Camille like that.”

He took a slow step forward, making everyone take a step back. “You’re done here,” he said with finality. “Both of you. Now get out.” No yelling, no theatrics, just authority. Undeniable, inescapable and dangerous. It was the kind of voice you didn’t argue with. The kind of voice that made your instincts whisper, ‘Run.’

Camille stood rooted in place, watching him with wide eyes. Terry, who had always been patient and warm, seemed possessed by something else entirely. Something lethal.

Her father tried to summon some control. “Y-you can’t t-tell us what to d-do!” he stammered, his voice trembling.

“Don’t make me fucking repeat myself,” Terry said, low and dark, every syllable laced with something Camille couldn’t name. His eyes glinted. Not with rage, but something more primal. And she found it terrifying.

In that instant, Camille wasn’t looking at the man who she shared an office with, or who brought her clutch back with a soft smile. She was staring into the eyes of something barely restrained. A monster. A protector. She wasn’t sure which.

Her father clamped his mouth shut, visibly shaken. Her mother took a trembling step back, grasping at his arm to steady herself. Neither of them dared to argue. Camille couldn’t breathe. And yet, even with fear crawling up her spine like ice, she felt something else: safety. The safety that could only come from something sinister. A demon. A sexy, dominating, mouth-watering demon.

Her mother reached out and gently tugged at her father’s sleeve, her voice low and shaky. “Come on, Colin. We obviously aren’t welcome here.”

She shivered as Terry’s gaze remained locked on them. Colin DeWaterson looked like he wanted to protest, his jaw working in angry silence. But even he wasn’t bold enough to stand against whatever power he just felt in Terry’s presence. His eyes flicked to Camille, then back to Terry, then down at the floor before he finally moved towards the door, his movements stiff with pride and resentment.

Camille’s mother followed him, avoiding Terry as much as she could, picking a careful path over charred marble and fallen debris until she and her husband passed through the door.

And then, as if a switch had flipped, Terry turned back to her.

Gone was his fury, the commanding presence that had silenced her father with a single look. His eyes were soft. He was back to himself, the version she knew. Without a word, Terry crossed the ruined room, each stride silent and sure despite the rubble beneath his feet. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate. He simply wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in.

She stood still at first, her body stiff, her breathing shallow. Then she sank into him.

Her forehead pressed against his chest. She sniffled once, twice. But her eyes remained dry. The tears wouldn’t come. There weren’t any left.

Terry’s hand moved slowly, threading through her hair with care. He leaned down, his voice low and close to her ear. “Can I take you to my place? Let me help you figure all this out. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” His tone was almost desperate but quiet, like he didn’t want to spook her. Like a man who knew just how fragile she was at this moment.

Her mind told her no. Said she wasn’t ready to trust him. Told her it could only lead to heartbreak. But her heart? It jumped at the opportunity. Ready to seize a moment of softness. And when would she get the chance to listen to her heart again?

She nodded against his chest. “Okay,” she whispered.

Terry

Terry hid his satisfaction beneath a mask of concern. Genuine, warm, protective. The perfect facade. But inside? He was more than pleased. His plan had worked exactly as he intended.

The fire had been contained just enough to avoid suspicion, but devastating enough to leave Camille with nowhere else to go. Now, here she was, fragile and disoriented in his home. Right where he needed her to be. Where he could keep her safe… keep her close.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with all my drama this weekend, Terry,” Camille said softly, cradling the mug of earl grey he had placed gently into her hands.

Terry looked down at her from his place in front of the couch, watching the steam curl into the air between them. She was curled into the corner of his sectional, legs tucked underneath her.

God, she looked perfect. Vulnerable. Grateful. His.

She brought the mug to her lips and took a tentative sip, sighing as the warmth soothed her. Her eyes closed briefly, lashes brushing her cheeks.

He eased into a cushion next to her, close enough that their legs brushed. His hand moved without hesitation, possessively resting on her thigh.

“Camille,” he said, her name rolling off his tongue like a caress. “Nothing that happened this weekend was your drama.” He used air quotes around the word 'drama'. “You were just caught up in a bunch of unfortunate events.”

She gave him a weak smile, the corners of her mouth twitching, but her eyes still looked ashamed. He hated that she saw herself as a burden when it came to him. It made something rumble in his chest. Not pity. Not guilt. Frustration. Hadn’t he been clear enough? Hadn’t he shown that he would do anything for her?

He exhaled slowly, controlling the flicker of irritation threatening to surface. His thumb grazed her thigh gently, a soothing motion that masked his growing hunger. For control.

She looked away, sipping again from the mug, unaware of the storm brewing in him.

“Still… I’m sorry. For everything,” Camille whispered. Her eyes stayed locked on the mug in her lap. “I–I shouldn’t have crossed that line and kissed you…”

Terry’s jaw ticked. He watched her for a beat longer, then slowly leaned forward, placing a single knuckle beneath her chin. His touch was light, but the message was clear: Look at me.

Reluctantly, she let him tilt her face up, her eyes meeting his.

“Camille,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’ve been very patient with you. I've been gentle. I've given you space. And despite all that, I’ve been more than clear about how I feel.”

He paused, eyes darkening as his thumb brushed just beneath her lip.

“I want you. Far more than you want me. So you can apologize all you want for what you thought was wrong. But I won’t let you sit here and act like I don’t want you. Like I haven’t always wanted you.”

Camille’s eyes widened, stunned by his directness.

“T-Terry… I didn’t think–”

“What?” he interrupted, the edge in his tone unmistakable now. “You don’t take me seriously?” He knew she respected him, but he had to push her. Needed to push her. Make her understand in a way she could never deny again.

She stammered, shaking her head quickly. “I-I do, Terry! I just… I just don’t think I’m what you really want–”

He let out a dark laugh, low and humorless. “Camille, I made my decision about you months ago.” His voice dropped to a growl, fingers twitching as he kept the darkest parts of himself down. “Watching you with Aston every day…it drove me fucking insane.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him with those beautiful brown eyes, jaw slightly slackened.

He leaned back slowly, stretching his arms out and lacing his fingers behind his head, his muscles flexing beneath his fitted shirt. His legs spread slightly, lazy but dominant. Unmistakably in control.

“I don’t like being doubted, Camille,” he murmured. She said nothing, too stunned. “So now,” he drawled, each word slow and deliberate as his gaze swept over her, “you’re going to come over here…”

He let the silence stretch. Then added, voice low and commanding, “…and give me a proper apology.”

Camille’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. Her gaze dropped for a moment, staring into the swirl of tea still inside of her mug. Her fingers flexed, then relaxed. Then she set the mug aside and rose slowly to her feet, moving to stand between his parted legs. Her eyes trailed up and down his body before she met his eyes again, giving him a shy glance. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head slightly.

“Go ‘head,” he said. He wasn’t suggesting.

She nervously hiked her long dress up to her mid thighs, Terry’s eyes following the reveal of her smooth brown skin. Carefully, she climbed on top of him to settle in his lap. She gasped as her covered pussy brushed against his very hard length, which twitched with impatience.

Camille’s fingers hovered slightly before she let them settle on his shoulders. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just watched her. Her eyes searched his momentarily. Then, slowly, she leaned in. Her lips brushed his. It was too soft, he wouldn’t even call it a kiss. She pulled back just barely. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out.

Terry almost cracked. Almost. The softness in her voice, the way her lips trembled just after brushing his…the delicate vulnerability in her eyes, wide and unsure like a startled doe. It nearly unraveled him as his irritation dulled. She didn’t even realize the kind of power she held over him. That breathy little 'I’m sorry' was enough to bring him to his knees. But he couldn’t succumb to her charm. He had to make her understand that he wasn’t playing any games.

“Nah,” he groaned, bringing his hands down to her hips, grinding her against him ever so slightly. He let out a low hiss as he took in the friction. “I don’t think you mean it. Try again, baby girl.”

She wasted no time listening to his command. She pressed a deep, wet kiss against his lips. It lingered much longer than the previous one. Then she moved to his jaw. Then his neck. His breath grew shallower with each touch. He balled his hands into fists as he attempted to hold onto his control. And he did…until she reached his ear. The soft, moist feeling against his ear lobe made everything in him snap. Immediately turned him into the predator he knew he was.

His hand slid up to her neck, pulling her face back to his before his lips crashed against hers, giving her harsh, consuming kisses. She whimpered as she attempted to keep up with him as he continued, but he had no plan on slowing down. He wanted her mind cloudy. The only thing getting through the haze of it all should be how good he was making her feel.

Terry slid his arms beneath Camille’s thighs, lifting her effortlessly. The kiss never broke, only deepened as her arms instinctively looped around his neck. His grip was secure as he moved through the apartment toward his bedroom. He walked the path to his room without thought, his focus entirely on her and the way she tasted, her lips stained with earl gray tea and honey.

This time, his room was safe. Nothing out of place, nothing that might raise a single question. The altar, a physical manifestation of his obsession with her, was no longer in eyesight. He had moved it as soon as he came home that morning, tucking it away behind a reinforced door, locked with both steel and spell, where no wandering eyes would ever find it. Especially hers.

He shoved his door wider as he reached it, crossing the threshold like a dragon returning to its castle…holding its most prized treasure. He pulled away only to toss her on the bed. She landed with a soft whimper, watching him as he began to strip.

“Take off everything,” he growled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I want you completely bare.”

Obediently, she pulled the rest of her dress off and cast it to the side. She was left in nothing else but a pink thong, which she eagerly hooked her thumbs through to pull them down. Terry watched her as he kicked off his pants and boxers. He fisted his dick as he slowly stalked towards his bed. The way she laid against it… hair wild, lips puffy, eyes hooded. It was as if she was a siren being served to him on a silver platter. Silently calling out to him, begging to be tamed. Her smooth skin glistened as she rubbed her thighs against each other, lust swirling in her eyes and throughout her aura.

Terry grasped one of her ankles and dragged her until her ass sat on the edge of the bed. With his eyes still on hers, he sank to his knees and parted her legs. He licked his lips as he stared at her dripping wet center, her fragrance making his cock throb.

A well deserved offering she was.

He leaned forward to take in more of her scent, a deep rumble coming from him. Then, his tongue darted out, a slow, long lick separating her folds. Camille yelped, her back arching off his bed. He chuckled, loving the way she responded to his touch. He took another lick, this one much more slow and teasing.

“Terryyyyyy,” she moaned. He growled again, her taste making him nearly feral. He pried her legs even further, giving him better access to his pussy.

“Fuck you taste so good. So fucking good.” He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed this just as much as she did. His lips latched around her clit, licking and sucking simultaneously, speeding up as her screams grew louder and louder. He dragged one of his hands from her thigh down to her pussy, slowly pushing in two thick fingers.

“Ohmygodddddd,” Camille shouted, as her walls spasmed around his digits. He hummed, watching her twist and thrash against his bed, curses pouring from her like a faucet. He sped up his pace, curling his fingers slightly to graze the spot he knew would drive her crazy. She let out an agonized whimper, beginning to scoot back from his touch.

Terry pulled away, furious. “You runnin’?” he gritted. “Daddy don’t like all that runnin’ shit.” He reached out and yanked her back towards him, his mouth latching back onto her pussy once more. This time, he was much more brutal.

Sucking.

Slurping.

Lapping.

He did it all. And he didn’t stop. Not when her legs began to twitch. Not even when she begged for mercy. It wasn’t until her juices splashed across his mouth and chin did he pull away from her, somewhat satisfied.

He rose slowly from his knees, beating his dick as he watched the little thing try to reorient herself. He couldn’t have that though, could he? He needed her dick-dumb, her mind consumed by only him and what he was doing to her. He grabbed her waist and slid her body further up the bed towards his headboard. His hand found her neck once again, giving it a squeeze, beckoning her to focus on him.

She blinked up at him as she panted, fat tears staining her pretty face. He gave her a crooked smile.

“Raw?” He asked. He wanted to feel her against him, nothing being between them. But he wanted her comfortable more than anything. But to his surprise, she nodded, still trying to catch air as she swallowed.

“Yes please,” she moaned, the words sounding so needy. So fucking pathetic. He chuckled sinisterly. Yes, please? Oh, he was going to put her straight through this damn mattress. Slowly, he fed her the tip of his cock. His eyes rolled back, ascending to euphoria as her entrance tightened around his tip. “Ahhhh,” she winced, wiggling slightly, trying her best to accommodate him.

“Breathe, princess, breathe,” he cooed, his hand moving from her neck down to her nipple. He brushed the nub softly, coaxing her to relax. “You can take it, pretty girl. I know you can.”

After a few pants, he felt Camille relax around him, making him smile. He pushed a few more inches into her before pulling out completely, watching her face to make sure she was good. It didn’t take long for the pained expression to melt away, leaving only her eyes rolled back and her mouth fallen open.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned, picking up his pace. He couldn’t help the vulgar things that fell out of his mouth as he thrusted in and out of her. Her pussy was beyond perfect. Tight and gushy, filling the room up with the most erotic sounds. This had to be what heaven felt like. No, it was beyond that. It was mind numbing and earth shattering being in Camille’s temple. And he would worship there until the day he fucking died.

Terry almost got lost in her warmth, his release threatening to come too early. He almost let himself get carried away on the high. But he remembered that, above all, this was her punishment. A lesson on trusting him, his words, and his actions. She wouldn’t learn if he failed to drag this out.

Camille needed to believe him. Completely. She thought he was just playing. That this… that they were some temporary, heat-of-the-moment fling. But she was wrong. Terry had to make her see. Make her understand. Not with words, because he had said enough. But with deep, pleasure-filled strokes that communicated better than any words ever could.

Letting her know that she was safe with him. That she was treasured. Every move, every touch, every lingering kiss would be a vow she couldn’t ignore. He would claim every inch of her. Until the doubt fell away. Until she looked at him and acknowledged what he had known all along: She didn’t belong to anyone else. Only him.

Beads of sweat dripped down from his face as he watched her face contort, unable to do anything but take his dick.

Good, he thought. Now would be a perfect time for a domination spell... right in the middle of me ruining her.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me you’re all mine. You belong to me don’t you?”

All she had to do was say those words. And she would be his. He slowed down slightly, allowing her to focus on what he was saying. But she didn’t speak. Just nodded weakly before her head lolled to the side. Terry tsked. That just wouldn’t do.

“Come on Camille, just tell me. You can do it,” he purred, amused by how cock-drunk she looked. His lips crashed into hers, his hips rolling to a stop. “Say it, baby,” he encouraged as he pulled away from her slightly.

She gulped. “I’m yours,” she croaked, voice nearly gone. He cocked his eyebrow.

“And?” He shoved his cock to the base, forcing a whimper from her. She sniffled, obviously fighting the overstimulation. “I-I belong to you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Terry let out a laugh, unhinged, almost psychotic as he continued digging her out. She said it. She actually said it! The words rang in his ears like a sweet hymn. All of his careful planning, every whispered manipulation, every hidden ritual, every drop of blood he spilled…had led to this moment. To her.

His chosen Indulgence, who seemed to have him gripped in the deepest obsession, in his bed and in his arms.

And for that… for giving him exactly what he craved…her trust, her surrender, her heart…he had to reward her with pleasure beyond anything she could comprehend. And Terry, in all his dark devotion, would make sure she felt it. Deep in her skin and in her soul. Because Terry always took care of what was his.

He reached down, his thumb expertly playing with her clit, giving it the right amount of pressure to push her into her next orgasm.

He watched as her chest heaved up and down before she paused for the slightest moment, eyes glazing over.

And then, she shattered.

Her spine arched, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Every nerve lit up. Every feeling surged through her, all tangled together and bursting through her at once. Her body trembled as she gave in, no longer able to contain what he had so methodically unraveled.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted, and she pressed herself against him like she didn’t know where she ended and he began. Exactly how he wanted her.

“Terryyyyyyyy!” She sobbed.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled, enjoying the pulse of her pussy as it gripped his cock, nearly milking out his release. He watched as her body lightly convulsed as her orgasm continued to rip through her. Sweet, soft whimpers escaping her, making his cock jump.

He was grateful for her submission. But her punishment was far from over. He was still irritated that she couldn’t see his love for her. So he would make sure she got the message.

And he would be rough. Passionate. And barely restrained.

As if he was possessed by some feral monster, he grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her stomach, snatching her hips into the air and pressing her head into the pillows.

“I’m tired of you running from me, baby girl. Running from us. So I gotta make sure we’re crystal clear,” he groaned, placing feathery soft kisses up her spine. He noticed how her arch faltered with each press of his lips. With a smirk, he dragged his tongue up her spine, watching her lose her arch all together. But he just propped her right back up, just how he liked it.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, as he ran his tip up and down her slit, giving her entrance extra attention. She only nodded eagerly as she gripped the sheets to prepare herself. He frowned, displeased by her lack of words. He planted a heavy smack on her full ass, the ripple momentarily hypnotizing him. She cried out, arching even further. “Words, Princess.” He gritted.

“Y-Yes, I��ll be a good girl–” Another slap pulled another cry from her. He gripped her hair, pulling her head back slightly. His lips kissed along the shell of her ear.

“Yes what?” Terry asked, nuzzling the side of her face with his. He licked his lips slowly, still savoring her juices on his mouth and tongue.

“Yes, Daddy,” she moaned, trying to press herself into him. He smirked. Greedy little thing, he thought as he pressed her face back into the pillow. She had no idea what she just unleashed with those words. Hopefully, she’ll be able to walk after he was done with her.

With one kiss to her shoulder blade, Terry thrust his full length into her weeping hole. He let out a guttural moan as the breath in her throat caught.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered as she fluttered around him. “You can take all of me.”

Terry showed her no mercy as he pummeled in and out of her with deep, torturous strokes, soaking up every moan that went past her pretty ass lips. But he knew his love could do better than that. She could be a bit more vocal. He reached around her front, sliding his fingers into her folds to caress the pearl-like bundle of nerves between her legs.

“Ooooo, shittt Daddy,” she shouted, her legs beginning to quiver. Terry smirked, slowing his strokes down to match the pace the tips of his fingers used to circle her clit. Again, she fluttered around him, making his hips almost stutter. He smacked her ass again.

“You gonna let me take care of you, princess?” He asked. She nodded once more, gripping his sheets even harder. “Yes sir,” she croaked, voice hoarse. He smacked her round flesh again.

“You gonna let me handle all this shit you got going on?”

“Yes, oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” Her orgasm was close. He wished he could see her eyes. Were they rolling back? Were they clenched tight? He was dying to know. But her ass was just as beautiful of a sight.

A deep, evil chuckle left his mouth. He could make her do anything right now. She was like putty. He couldn’t wait to reshape her. Not with his hands, but with his presence, his words. Not into someone new, but into someone real. Her most authentic and free self. The version of Camille that the world had tried to bury, but that he saw so clearly, even when she didn’t.

He pressed his full weight into her, flattening her into his bed. His mouth hovered over her ear. “This my pussy now, right?” He teased, grasping her hands as he brought her closer to exaltation.

She closed her eyes tightly. “O-Only your pussy, Daddy! No one else’s!”

He let out a satisfied hum. There she was. The vulgar little temptress he knew she could be. “Yeah? So I should nut in my pussy right? Fill you up until you stuffed?”

“Please, Daddy,” she begged. “I-I-I want to feel full.” How could Terry deny such a humble request?

He leaned back and placed one foot on the bed, giving him the leverage to drill one particular spot in the goddess beneath him. She deserved it. Her moans and cries became sharp breaths as her pussy quivered around him. Terry was almost there. Just a few more strokes…

“Fuckkkkkkk!” Camille slurred, knees buckling as she splashed his sheets with her release. The sight of it pushed him over the edge. “Shitttt!” Terry hissed, tears pricking the sides of his eyes, the world crumbling around him, leaving nothing but him and Camille. His hips sputtered as his balls contracted, his cock shooting thick ropes of cum into his woman, painting her walls white.

He collapsed on top of her, careful not to smush her but enough to lock her into place. For a while, they didn’t move. Just breathed heavily as their climaxes subsided. As their souls untangled themselves from each other. Although he wanted to, Terry knew he couldn’t just lay there. He pushed her, probably further than she had ever been pushed before. If he wanted to keep her grounded, he had to give Camille her much needed aftercare.

He sat up slowly, balancing on his knees as he looked down at where they were still connected. She still spasmed around him, adding to the thick, creamy ring that formed at the base of his dick. A perfect mix of their pleasure. Of course, Terry hardened again, and he cursed lowly as he pulled out of her. His mouth watered as he watched his cum spill out of her, dropping onto the soaked, dark sheets below her.

God, she was a sight.

His dick twitched once more, begging to return to its new, warm home. But he knew she had given him all she could. For now. She was right where she needed to be. But he couldn’t keep her there forever.

He gently kissed her shoulder before he flipped her over tenderly. Shallow breaths still fell from her lips, her eyes glassy and her gaze far away.

Terry reached up slowly, reverently, his fingertips brushing along her jaw before cupping her face. She leaned into his touch without hesitation, her eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone.

“I love you, Camille,” he whispered, tone nothing but sincere.

Her eyes finally refocused. They locked onto his in a way that made his breath catch. For a heartbeat, she said nothing. Then, a soft, warm giggle escaped her lips. A single tear slipped down her cheek, catching the light as it fell, and she smiled.

“I love you too, Terry,” she whispered, the words trembling as they left her. He smiled back.

“Good to hear, baby girl,” he murmured. He brushed his thumb across the tear still clinging to her skin. “Now, let me get you cleaned up.” He stood, tugging her into a bridal style hold, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he made his way to his bathroom.

Stephanie

Stephanie walked down the stark hallway of the hospital’s psychiatric wing, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead casting a sterile glow across the scuffed floor. Her heels clicked softly beneath her, muffled by the hum of machines and the distant murmurs drifting from behind closed doors. She adjusted her oversized sunglasses with a practiced flick of her wrist, despite the fact that they barely masked the exhaustion and fury simmering just beneath her polished exterior.

This was the fourth hospital she had visited today. But this time, she finally found who she was looking for.

A nurse at the front desk had bought the concerned-girlfriend routine without hesitation, directing her with a sympathetic nod and giving her a printed visitor sticker. Stephanie hadn’t even needed to fake the tremble in her voice. Her nerves were still frayed from this morning’s… incident with Terry.

Her stomach turned at the scent of industrial cleaner. The quiet, occasional thuds or groans behind doors creeped her out but she pressed forward, undeterred.

She was on a mission after all.

This morning’s altercation with Terry had been a disaster. She had miscalculated, overplayed her hand. Threatening to expose him, flashing the truth of what he really was, only earned her a choking hand around her throat. And while it was beyond sexy, it was a reminder of what he was capable of. He didn’t fear her. And why would he? Who would believe that the beloved Terry Richmond was a vampire? She wouldn’t have believed it had she not seen it with her own eyes.

But where her threat had failed… she’d discovered something else she could use to get him to bend to her will.

Camille.

Stephanie had been so blind. She was so focused on Camille’s infatuation with Terry that she didn’t even notice his infatuation with her.

But now she understood.

Camille DeWaterson was Terry’s weakness, the key to Stephanie getting everything she wanted. And she would gladly use that slut against him.

Stephanie halted mid-stride as she reached Room 718, the number the nurse had whispered with that oh-so-reassuring smile. She tilted her head, peering through the narrow window in the door, where the blinds had been left slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was dim but not empty.

Aston sat upright in the hospital bed, wrists bound tight in restraints, fingers twitching. He stared at the ceiling. His mouth hung slightly open, lips dry, his pupils wide and unfocused. Heavily medicated, Stephanie noted. The cocktail they had him on must’ve been strong.

Her gaze shifted to the older couple hovering near the bed’s edge. A man and woman, seated on either side with identical blank expressions. The woman’s elegant updo had started to fall, and the man’s suit jacket was wrinkled at the elbows. But even disheveled, they reeked of money. She recognized them instantly from the night before.

Mr. and Mrs. McCoy. Texas oil money, she thought, lips twitching into a slight smirk.

She let her eyes linger on their outfits, clearly what they had worn the previous night. No doubt, they hadn’t left their son’s side since then.

Stephanie didn’t hesitate.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside like she owned the place, the scent of antiseptic rushing up to greet her. Instantly, all three heads turned in her direction.

Aston’s dull eyes flickered, as if he was coming back to life. He tugged against the restraints with new energy, his voice cracking as it spilled out in surprise. “Stephanie! Baby, I’ve missed you so much!”

He tugged at the straps like a child reaching for a toy just out of reach, his frown deepening when the restraints held firm.

“Somebody get these fucking things off me!” Aston's voice cracked as he strained against the restraints, his eyes wild with a mix of panic and desperation.

His parents sprang to their feet, their movements hurried as they attempted to soothe their son with gentle words and reassuring touches. His mother turned to Stephanie, her expression tight with barely concealed frustration.

“I apologize for what happened last night,” she began, her voice measured but firm, “but you need to leave.”

Stephanie’s lips curled into a faint smile. She rolled her eyes theatrically, the gesture dripping with feigned exasperation, as Aston’s shouting escalated.

“If you want your son to get better,” Stephanie replied coolly, “you need me here.”

She took a deliberate step closer to the hospital bed, each stride measured and confident. Reaching the bedside, she leaned slightly forward, her presence commanding Aston’s attention.

“Hey, Aston,” she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. She plastered a fake smile on her face as she observed his frantic movements gradually stop, his focus on her like a moth to a flame.

“I've missed you too!” She lied with ease. “But I need you to calm down, okay? You don't want to upset your parents, right?”

Aston's gaze flickered momentarily, a brief flash of clarity before he succumbed again, his eyes locking onto hers. His hands, still bound, settled into his lap, his posture slumping in defeat.

“N-No, baby,” he stammered, his voice small and apologetic. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

Stephanie's smile deepened, savoring the small victory.

“Good boy,” she murmured, enjoying the control she had over him.

Turning her gaze toward Aston’s parents, Stephanie observed their reactions with keen interest. His mother wore an expression of sheer horror. Her lush, Southern accent trembled as she addressed Stephanie.

“What have you done to him?” she quipped, her voice laced with terror.

His father remained eerily silent, his eyes narrowing as they fixed intently on Stephanie, analyzing her every move with a calculating gaze.

Unfazed, Stephanie met his father’s scrutiny with unwavering confidence. “I haven't done anything to him,” she replied smoothly. “But I know how to get him back to normal. I'll just need a few things from you all first.”

Before his mother could retort, Aston's father's calm voice interjected.

“Let her speak, Lily,” he said, his tone surprisingly composed. Stephanie couldn't suppress her smirk, her lips curling as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“First,” she began, her voice smooth and deliberate, “I need you to help me disappear.” She watched as they exchanged glances.

“Go on,” his father prompted, his expression unreadable. Stephanie’s eyes darkened as she thought about her next request. She hated that she even had to mention that homewrecking bitch’s name.

“And when I say when,” she continued, her voice tinged with barely contained irritation, “bring me Camille DeWaterson.”

a/n:

OK, so please, nobody shoot me. But I'm going to have to pause updates until May 9. School, work, and research are really kicking my ass right now, and I just can't give that much time to writing right now. But I really thank y'all for supporting my work and checking in on me! It really does help me get through everything. Especially all the funny and detailed comments and reposts. 😭 I'll be ready to jump back into things once my school stuff dies down. But until then, thanks again for reading, engaging, and interacting!

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@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr @alexinmotion @queencb2462 @kismet83 @bruleecream @playingaymes

#terry richmond #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #rebel ridge #aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond x black character #aaron pierre x black!oc

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kurokawaia · 4 months ago

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thoughts on sasuke with pregnant reader (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) (don't feel pressured if you don't want to write it Honey!! you know i love what you write either way 🫂)

Oh my goodness^^ ofc i'll share my thoughts nonnie!! you're too sweet omg 🫂🫂

CW/TW :: pregnancy, fem!reader, thelast!sasuke/postwar!sasuke, reader is a medical ninja

I can just imagine that on his travels that you are there with him. He is the one that asked you to come which surprised you because you'd never thought he would, until he did. During the time you were together, wondering outside the village, going to various places, you landed up pregnant.

This wasn't something to be disappointed of! No! In fact, Sasuke was the one who first brought up the topic, expressing his interest and you wanted to as well. The only problem was... how dangerous it would be for you now that you are having a child.

Sasuke and you managed to come to an agreement, that you'd go back to the village and he'd continue to travel around for two weeks before coming back for a week to spend time with you until you were further along, to which he'd stay three weeks and leave for only a couple days.

You were around 19 weeks pregnant and the both of you have been in the village for only a mere couple of hours after reporting in with the Hokage. He didn't even suspect a thing, you were wearing a coat which covered your body so he couldn't tell, only that you informed him that you wouldn't be travelling anymore due to some health issues.

But, this is were all the 'drama' starts. You're out getting some groceries because there is nothing in the house, nothing. You changed out from your ninja attire to something more comfortable, a fitted maxi dress which did, very obviously, show of your growing baby bump. Casually, you were just plopping in the stuff you and Sasuke needed into the smaller trolley's (sasuke isn't here bc naruto dragged him away to get some ramen, you said you're a strong independent woman who can shop herself (●'◡'●) )

This is when the stares start to begin. Because not only can they see your pregnant, but they can see the Uchiha Clan symbol sewn onto the back of your dress. The Uchiha symbol on your back wasn’t exactly subtle, and with your bump showing, it was pretty clear who you were and what was going on. You can feel the stares, you were only gone for what 7 months, that's not that long but you guessed that it was the fact that you left not pregnant and came back so.

It wasn’t every day they saw Sasuke Uchiha’s partner out and about anyways, since you work at the hospital AND being pregnant. That's a shocker. A group of older women passed by, their eyes lingering a little longer than usual. You didn’t blame them. Sasuke wasn’t exactly the type to be open about his personal life, and here you were, very obviously carrying his child. They probably never expected to see this side of him.

After a while, you headed to the checkout, noticing the stares hadn’t really stopped. You couldn’t help but think about how different life was now. Being with Sasuke always meant people were watching, but now, with a baby on the way, it felt even more intense. But you knew it is only because they never thought they'd ever see the day he'd settle down, and now he has!

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

#cw pregnancy #tw pregnancy #sasuke x reader #sasuke x you #sasuke uchiha x reader #naruto x reader #naruto x you #uchiha x reader

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pattsimsblog · 7 months ago

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MY FIRST RECOLORABLE CONVERSION! RIMINGS NEW GIFT BOX 19 Glossy Maxi Dress CONVERSION

so i finlly gave it a try and did a conversion with a recolor (two slots one for the chest strings and the other for the rest of the dress

also shine ON THE DRESS is CUSTOM AND PUT IN BY ME!

POLY: 20K

Age: young-adult and adult

credit: rimings

recolorable: yes! (3 variants and 1 non recolorable)

CUSTOM THUMBNAIL: ON

before you download: if you will try to make your sims body fat with this dress pls dont i tried to make it for all body types but the glitching in tsrw was insane even tho i did everything i should have from the tutorial so the only body thing that you can adjust are boobs in cas :)

here is how it will look if you try t o make your sims body big and wide:

known issue: armpit clipping on one side

if you still want to download here it is!

DOWNLOAD

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

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Hazbin Hotel Characters with a Goth S/o

this is basically how some of ththe hazbin characters would support their goth s/o- as a goth person this is literally so self-indulgent lmao

🥀Pairing(s): lucifer x reader, velvette x reader, adam x reader, alastor x reader

🥀 Cw: fluff!

Lucifer

lucifer is a little confused and intimidated about your style at first, he definitely asks a lot of questions

VERY supportive once u explain it, hes very much the "okay dear" type

honestly i think he would find it super attractive, the way u express yourself is just so admirable to him

i feel like lucifer is very fidgety and is always losing focus, and one tjing that i do is that im ALWAYS fidgeting with thr chains and accessories on my outfits so like imagine him just standing super close to you and gently rearranging your chains and necklaces for you...

he would let you teach him how to do makeup and eyeliner and would definitely let you practice styles on him!

lucifer would also help you get ready too, always willing to offer some positive feedback or help with makeup and hair

i also think lucifer adores it when you give him music recommendations, and would get super into a lot of the bands that you like

i personally hc him as a siouxsie and the banshees fan bc i just feel like the elegant vibes fit him very well, but i also think he'd like strawberry switchblade too and just goth stuff like that

overall very supportive and super sweet and silly when it comes to your fashion

Velvette

gosh she needs more love

you both are fashion ICONS okay like even before you both become official she is blown away by your style and authenticity

she def designs special fashion items just for you, she makes a whole line of clothes based off of u and ur aesthetic

velvette LOVES matching with you and loves incorporating both of your individual styles into your matching outfits, whether youre more mallgoth or romantic goth or trad goth or anything in between, she is totally inspired by you and your fits and will always want to inspire you in return

def buys you things she seed and thinks you'd like or look good in, regardless of price. her gifts range from thrifted maxi dresses abd fishnets to priceless jewelry and makeup LIKEEEEE omg

velvette LOVES when u wear something she bought for u or designed for u as well

yall are always late for social events bc u HAVE to be the best dressed couple there i swear

also if u wear chunky boots or platforms and ur taller than her???? expect her to pull you down for kisses bc URGH seeing you sm taller than her does something to her

guys i have a type help

Adam

adam thinks your hot af if you're goth

hes the type to make big tiddy goth gf jokes im sorry💀

in all seriousness tho he would LOVE a goth s/o

adam def likes alternative/rock music and he would think it's awesome if you introduced him to some goth bands

he would LOVE the scary bitches, death grips, and also sisters of mercy too

i def think goth people would be much more rare in heaven than in hell, and he would get SO defensive on your behalf if anyone said anything about you or your fashion

honestly hes your number one fan and LOVES giving his input on your fits

honestly your closet doubles when you date him, adam loves seeing you wear his rings and punk jewelry and i def think he has a lot of old band shirts and stuff for his band, so he would love seeing you wear his oversized shirts

if u have piercings WOOWHEE bc adam asks SO MANY QUESTIONS

he thinks theyre so hot ngl, and i def think he has a few piercings and will buy u both matching jewelry

adam would learn to play songs you like on the guitar for you as well

i dont think hed be super keen on letting you put makeup on him but he'd fold after a little persuasion

i honestly think he'd like eyeliner and how he looks wearing it but doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't want to seem too feminine (but u know ofc)

Alastor

before even meeting you he was fascinated by your style and boldness

alastor loves people who are unique, and someone who chooses to stand out so much definitely catches his eye

he'd find you very aesthetically appealing and would often find himself wanting to be around you more and learn more about you, your style, and goth culture in general

over this time period is probably when he started to develop feelings for you

alastor would def like the romantic/vampire goth look, that whole genre in general is just very elegant and classy while also nonconformist, which definitely speaks to him

when it comes to music alastor would probably be a little skeptical at first, especially when it comes to new technology, however if you (like me) have a record player and vinyl, i def think he would like listening to some of your fav goth bands on that

i dont really know why but i gen think he'd be a fan of the cure, sure its pretty basic but the vibe of some of the songs can be upbeat and kinda jazzy, and they just have that "old timey" vibe i think alastor would appreciate

alastor is fascinated with the process in which you get ready, and enjoys just sitting and watching in peaceful silence as uou do your makeup and pick out your outfit

if you (like most goths) are into creepy and unusual decor, he would LOVE to help you decorate your room

alastor has the strangest taste in interior design and loves sharing his unhinged ideas with you

overall alastor loves people with a lot of individuality and would definitely find a goth partner appealing because of that !!

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG HELP IM PROB GONNA MAKE A PT2 W MORE CHARACTERS HEHE- THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ALASTOR AND VELVETTE I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!!! WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR VELVETTE SHES SOOOOO AJSJDJD- anywaysssss hope yall enjoyed!!! feel free to req more, esp if u want a pt2 to this >:D

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f1samcro · 22 days ago

Text

The Better JPG

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Masterlist

fc; sabrina carpenter (she will be a common one i fear im so in love with her its a problem) (also theres like 1 photo of lily that we shall pretned is sabrina pls n thx)

LIKED BY lando, madisonbeer, lilymhe, AND 800,975 OTHERS

y/nnorizz.jpg i shall prove to be the superior norris with a superior jgp account, with a SUPERIOR photographer

lando EXCUSE ME? THE JPG IS MINE

↪y/nnorizz.jpg mine now tehehehe

madisonbeer have my babies pls n thx xxxx

↪y/nnorizz.jpg ill have to ask my photographer if thats allowed

↪madisonbeer fuck the patriarchy and have my children newayz

↪y/nnorizz.jpg ill be fucking somebody

↪lando there are children on this app (its me. i am children)

alexalbon what happened to being a norizz sibling? you kept having lily giggle at her phone

↪y/nnorizz.jpg not my fault im hotter than you albono🤷‍♀️

↪lilymhe im sorry alex but id leave you for her

↪alexalbon LILY?

↪y/nnorizz.jpg HA

LIKED BY madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, AND 765,899 OTHERS

y/nnorizz.jpg my photographer said i should fuck him and not the patriarchy 😔 sooooo appreciation post for my wife (and a small one for my photographer bcs IM HOT)

madisonbeer your photographer sounds toxic 🫤

↪y/nnorizz.jpg he very much is after last nught

↪madisonbeer ABSOLUTELY NO WAY YOU GOT DICKED DOWN SO GOOD YOU CANT TYPE

↪y/nnorizz.jpg IT WAS ONE WORD. MIND OUT OF GUTTER PLS N THX

user78 oscar?????? what are you doing here??????

↪user46 y/ns been in the garage A LOT, her and oscar are bound to have met considering lando brings her everywhere

lilymhe we should escape our toxic photographers and have a throuple @.y/nnorizz.jpg @.madisonbeer

↪y/nnorizz.jpg yesssss

↪madisonbeer shell get dicked down again

↪alexalbon were having a discussion about yu being in love with y/n

↪y/nnorizz.jpg im a very loveable person

↪lilymhe TOXIC. PHOTOGRAPHER.

LIKED BY lilymhe, madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, AND 100,135,876 OTHERS

y/nnorizz.jpg guys my photographer said i could launch him

lando i dont approve

↪y/nnorizz.jpg stop being a sore loser xx

↪lando never enter my vicinity again

↪y/nnorizz.jpg big word for someone who didnt get their gcse's

↪lando big attitude for someone who wrote a song abt wanting to fuck someone, but hasnt told the public who they wrote it about

↪y/nnorizz.jpg get off my page you hater

↪lando i quite like it here now

↪y/nnorizz.jpg everybody point and laugh

↪madisonbeer 🫵😂

↪lilymhe 🫵😂

↪alexalbon 🫵😂

↪maxfewtrell 🫵😂

maxfewtrell it's okay y/n i wont bully you unlike somebody

↪y/nnorizz.jpg love ya maxie xx

↪maxfewtrell a??? public??? display??? of??? affection??? ew.

↪y/nnorizz.jpg kys xx

↪maxfewtrell youre in my suicide letter

user78 OSCARS HERE AGAIN

↪user46 ill let you cook this time

LIKED BY oscarpiastri, lando, nicolepiastri, AND 200,736,972 OTHERS

y/nnorizz.jpg its my photographers birthday today!!!!!!!!!! happy birthday to my love, i wish i could say im sorry for the birthday muffin idea but im rlly not xx

thank you for putting up with me and taking FIRE photos whilst your at it. i have decided to share MY photos of you (plus one of me you took last night bcs your photography skills still need to outshine my brothers)

i love you endlessly my koala! (i WATCHED cricket with him the other day. i understood NOTHING. but i watched)

now. ahem. the last four photos.

1. HIS LITTLE NONCHALANT BITCHASS RESPONSE TO THIS NEW DRESS I GOT. LIKE WTH I LOOKED HOT AND I GET A THUMBS UP????

2. idk you look like a gremlin and im here for it

3. this is the face of a man whos listened to me complain the entire hike, just fo rme to say i wanted to go back and get more photos the second we went down

4. he heard my voice in the corridor and poked out with a DEVIOUS looking grin

oscarpiastri i love you endlessly, my little hedgehog (emphasis on the little)

↪y/nnorizz.jpg its only a head difference. calm urself down b4 i kill you in your sleep xx

↪oscarpiastri where else would you find a man willing to hike ALL the way back so you can take some photos?

↪y/nnorizz.jpg point has been considered

↪oscarpiastri i also gave you a much better reaction to that dress in person. you looked beautiful love

↪y/nnorizz.jpg you dont fight fair

↪oscarpiastri you lock yourself in the bathroom until you get your way

↪y/nnorizz.jpg you??? let??? me??? i??? never??? lock??? the??? door???

↪oscarpiastri you're watching cricket tonight

↪y/nnorizz.jpg wth man

madisonbeer i shall find my own photographer considering piastri stole mine

↪oscarpiastri SHE made the FIRST MOVE

↪madisonbeer shed never betray me like that

↪y/nnorizz.jpg ...

↪madisonbeer throwing your stuff into a firepit as we speak xxx

lando this doesnt prove you have a better jpg

↪y/nnorizz.jpg yes it does tf i have osc and youve js got your ugly ass

↪lando im not ugly and you know it

↪y/nnorizz.jpg sir you are my brother. please stop.

#oscar piastri #mclaren #f1 #oscarpiastri #f1 2025 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine

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foreid · 13 days ago

Text

࿁ 𑄹 ˙ — ❝ 𝑩𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑽𝑰𝑿𝑬𝑵 ! ❞

͏⏝ི summary: forced to drinks with morgan and emily, spencers expectations were nowhere near meeting somebody as perfect as you.

warnings: smut, fem!reader x softdom!spencer, p in v sex :3, spencer’s a big boy, meet cute, awkward spencer, no y/n use, slow burn if u squint. — not proofread :(

wrd count: 2439

packed, loud, and dark. only three words reid could use to describe the environment he was currently in.

he wasn’t much of a drinker, being dragged along here by emily and morgan to try and “expand his horizons” and get him out of his shell.

frankly, his head was already hurting and he couldn’t even imagine how unsanitary it was for all these people to be so tightly packed together.

it made his headache expand to all the corners of his head. his arnold parmer was practically melting in his hand, making him wipe a hand onto his slacks.

spencer had quickly drifted away from the conversation, chewing on the inside of his lip every now and then.

“hey, pretty boy. twelve o’clock, at the bar.” morgan lifted up his glass to signal at you, sitting almost elegantly on the stool in your shiny purple maxi-dress, hugging every curve that met the eye.

you more than caught the brunettes attention, his eyes almost widening at the view.

prentiss chuckled, her mocking practically hitting every side of him. “hah! like i’ve said: IQ of 187 slashed to 60 just like that.”

somehow, in some way, after what felt like thirty minutes of mocking— the full 72 inches and all, was sauntering over to where you were.

his stride wasn’t one of confidence… more of like a ‘i’m forced to be here but i think you’re hot and it intimidates me.’

“um— hi.” it came out in a creaky scratch, causing him to clear his throat and his lips to shift into one tight line.

you perked up a tad, turning around on the stool— temporarily halting the conversation between you and your friend. she took a hint though, making her way into the crowd.

“hi?” you couldn’t help the smile of amusement that crept up on your glossed lips, manicured finger mindlessly circling the rim of your glass.

you could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed dryly, still managing to maintain the deep eye contact.

despite the harsh churning in his stomach.

“i— uh— you’re..— you’re beautiful.” spencer almost slipped up and called you perfect, unfortunately his ‘skills’ were far beyond his favor right now.

but to be fair, you were perfect. his exact type on paper.

and the way you were staring at him made him beyond nervous.

you knew it though, you could tell. it was very flattering but it also gave you a spike of confidence.

“thanks. you’re… oh? FBI?” you quickly noticed the tag hooked onto his vest, it explained the button up and tie. “am i in trouble?” you giggled, cocking your head to the side, staring up at him almost seductively through your lashes.

he swallowed whatever was left of saliva in his mouth again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. trying his hardest to maintain all control of himself.

“no. have you done anything to get yourself in trouble?” spencer’s voice dropped an octave or two, senselessly bringing himself closer to you.

you could read a room. you knew he was flirting and it surprised you how quickly his ‘innocent boy’ act disappeared.

at once, you slowly stepped off the stool; even in your heels, this stranger managed to tower over you completely.

“i dunno… wanna find out?” it slipped past your lips in a quiet murmur, your hand simultaneously sliding up his chest, toying with his dark tie.

but your eyes were hypnotizing him, every time they weren’t on his, it felt like a hit to his heart.

every rational mind melted out of his brain through his ears.

what was once a full six feet of boy wonder was sliced in half to what could only be explained as the mind of a hormonal teen.

╴⊹ꮺ˚

wherever he lived wasn’t too far from the bar, but the drive felt outrageously long and you couldn’t even explain how painful it was that you weren’t already touching each other.

it hadn’t been a long time since you had someone on top of you. but, your plan for going out tonight was to get on top or beneath somebody.

you excused it as a reward for passing your final exam.

it’s not like you were going to fail in the first place— but one never knows.

spencer never really had anyone over into his apartment, he never expected to. so it wasn’t in the tidiest condition.

he forgot what it had looked like, causing him to immediately apologize as he shoved his shoes off.

“sorry. i wasn’t expecting any company.” despite finally having you alone, he still managed to be as awkward as ever.

you giggled, the alcohol you’d been taking finally hitting you now that you were in a new environment. “hm. you have nice taste.” you almost whispered, running your fingers over the cover of a loose book on the edge of the couch.

he caught himself smiling sheepishly. to spencer, you looked perfect here in his space.

his eidetic memory was sure to never forget a sight like this.

spencer didn’t even know it, but he was following behind you, picturing your every move and noticing everything he could see.

from the way your hair fell, how he could see just above your thighs, and how you had a tattoo of a rosary wrapped around your left ankle.

he wanted to know what other tattoos you had that he couldn’t see.

your movements were slow and excruciatingly cautious as you explored his space. before you knew it, the majority of his chest was snuggled against your back.

as you ran a finger along the spines of the books, trying to ignore the way calloused fingers slowly ran up your arm, slowly slipping the strap of your dress down your shoulder.

he could feel the soft twitch of your body when he ducked his head down to kiss against the blade of your shoulder, moving his way to the side of your neck.

spencer knew that when your head was tilting to the side in approval, he had all the green lights.

“is this okay?” he murmured against the skin of your neck, his opposite hand grabbing at the flesh on your hip through your dress.

the moment was nowhere far from sensual and the way he was leaving open mouthed kisses on any exposed skin.

you were letting out quiet mewls, eyes shut to take in everything and feel it even more.

all you could do was nod slowly, embarrassed at how your knees were already growing weak from some neck kisses.

spencer pressed himself closer, causing your body to be flush against the bookshelf.

his kisses suddenly became more ravenous and almost hungry, with every peace of skin he tasted— the more noises he let out.

large hands were now grabbing at you through your dress, which was almost a second skin, and it made you dizzy.

“i— i don’t even know your name.” your voice was raspy, almost in a whine.

you thought you had gotten a read of his name tag, but the blinding lights of the bar made it impossible to see the smaller letters.

but you did clock an ‘s’… samuel? stephen?

“spencer. doctor spencer reid.” he huffed into your ear before running his tongue along the shell, the sensation was enough to make you drop onto your knees.

god, even his name was sexy.

you were quiet after that— well, not literally. you were still a whining mess.

and it wasn’t better that you couldn’t meet his face, despite not facing him, your eyes were practically glued shut.

his mouth seemed to never stop, kissing any kind of skin he could get his lips on.

it made your skin heat up, you were on fire and so turned on. by now, you’d be leaking through your panties.

it was like he could read your mind, in the blink of an eye, he was rolling up your dress and slowly rolling a digit over your clothed slit.

spencer was circling the bud in an agonizingly slow motion, his mouth still peppering kisses along where your neck and shoulder met.

“y— you’re really wet. that means you like it, right?” his voice was groggy and breathless in your ear, making you whine in response.

not just from his words, but from the way he was slowly slipping a finger inside of you.

the both of you let out a noise in response, yours a bit louder than his due to the pleasure.

he seemed almost impatient, as if he was ready to just give you his all; but he was trying to be a gentleman. literally.

you could tell he was growing impatient due to how quick everything was moving, as if he was trying to already prepare you.

it felt just as good, knees buckling, jaw dropped and all.

“i’m gonna put it inside you now, okay?” he muttered breathlessly against your ear lobe, biting the skin— earrings and all.

you whimpered to him in some sort of approval, trying to ignore how hard your legs were trembling just from two fingers.

in the span of seconds, you could hear a belt unbuckling, the sound echoing through the room. followed by a zipper, then as if something heavy had hit the ground.

suddenly, a hand was softly grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you back and turning your head.

unexpectedly, you were met with a sloppy yet stable kiss, it felt… safe. despite his constant need for reassurance, he knew what he was doing.

the brunette kept kissing you, holding your neck with one hand then simultaneously positioning his girth at your entrance.

he knew well to kiss you while pushing inside of you because if he didn’t, whatever yowl you’d let out would be embarrassing to explain to his neighbor.

while slowly bottoming out inside of you, your moan was muted by his kiss. you both reacted, your hands gripping the shelves and his hand tightening around your nape.

whatever the definition of a kiss was, this was not it. tongues just lapping at one another as he started to rut his hips.

your mouth was just left wide open, causing him to help himself and kiss along your jaw.

trying to occupy his mouth so he could subdue his whines. from how good you felt.

his hand was nothing compared to this feeling.

your walls were fluttering around him in a rhythm that made his brain turn into mush and every noise you let out in time with his thrust, didn’t make his self control any easier to maintain.

instead of grabbing your skin, he snugged a handful of your hair, keeping you in place as he fucked you sensually into his book case.

never in a million years would either of you believe your night would end up like this.

spencer, forced to a bar right out of a frustrating case across the country.

you, in a different situation, forcing your friends to come celebrate with you.

but you could say it worked out great in the end.

not only were you being fucked out of existence by a sexy FBI agent, but you still knew you looked so good.

not because you were vain, but because of all the mindless compliments he was spewing out.

“perfect. you’re— you feel so perfect.” spencer could only babble, his tongue swiping and biting along your shoulder. his thrusts never stopped.

you couldn’t help the way you rutted your body against him, eyes rolling into your skull and skin completely on fire.

by the way you were squeezing around him and the octave of your moans we’re growing, anyone in their right mind could tell you were close.

with a free hand, he dug through the front of your dress, access your breasts and slipping one of your nipples between his fingers.

bingo.

the more he played with your nipple and the quicker he thrusted, the better you were feeling.

and the closer you were getting.

the tighter you grew around him, the harder he was whining and grunting. spencer could feel everything and something in him was close to snapping.

every push inside was hypnotizing and every roll of your nipple was sending you into another universe.

“oh my g— god!” something about this thrust made all the difference, he hit a spot you were never expecting to exist.

it sent what was almost a shockwave through your body, back arching, eyes rolling and mouth agape to let out a string of pornographic noises.

you were grabbing on the shelves until your knuckles were white, thinking you could rip the shelves off the wall.

spencer wasn’t far behind. with a grip on your ass and its twin on your tit, he was thrusting at an unnatural pace.

you didn’t tell him to stop, so he took it as a green light and shot thick strings of his cum deep inside of you.

so deep you swore it was pooling somewhere into your stomach.

he finished with a whine, something along the lines of: “holy shit, angel.”

but you couldn’t quite make it out.

sweat was pooled up against his forehead, causing soft curls to stick against his skin. you recollected yourself— trying your best to ignore the pools of cum slipping out of you.

you rested your back against the shelves, breathing in soft gaps.

“hi, stranger.” you broke the silence after just staring at each other for what felt like ages.

your words brought what you thought was a soft smile to his chiseled face.

maybe it was the soft lighting of this apartment, or that you just never got a good look at him, but he was… beautiful.

“hi.” he hushed back at you, running a hand over the top of your head then placing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

his free hand slid its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“let me clean you up. i’m not the type to share my space.

but it’s the least i could do.” he finished, sort of whispering to you, breathing in labored patterns.

“mmm. i’d like that.” you could feel his lips smiling again against your skin.

it was quiet for a moment, safe silence.

until he broke it this time. “oh, i never got your name.” spencer admitted it to you and by the look on your face, he knew he wasn’t going to win so easily.

“you don’t deserve that just yet.” you giggled. and as much as he hated defeat, he couldn’t help the growing, comfortable feeling in his chest.

#𝓯oreid ․ ۜ ̫․#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #fan fiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid x y/n

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softtdaisy · 1 year ago

Text

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it.

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift.

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours.

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart.

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?”

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.”

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan.

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?”

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did.

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.”

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.”

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.”

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile.

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment.

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.”

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.”

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval.

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve.

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.”

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.”

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved.

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!”

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him.

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member.

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had.

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own.

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied.

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

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