#im sorry i didn't have it done by christmas though :( i loved reading through your answers and would love to keep in touch

[hometownangels]

if this time is the last drive out in the haze,

take me in for the last time into your eyes...

for @xiaoxiongmaos from your secret santa ♡

[fayes-fics]

It's That Time Of Year

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: It's that time of year... when you could use a fake boyfriend.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), vaginal sex, dirty talk, hand as gag, quiet sex, sex in childhood bedroom. Fake dating, family dynamics, lots of feelings, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 11.3 k (eek Im sorry)

Authors Note: Here's my tropetacular winter 2023 Benepic! Request fill for @broooookiecrisp (HERE), who wanted fake boyfriend trope with Benedict accompanying the reader to the USA to spend Christmas with her family. I hope you like it, my dear. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy and happy holidays! 🎄

December 20th 

“Thank you,” Benedict clinks his champagne glass against yours, “for everything.”

You blush and look down from his intense blue-eyed gaze, staring instead at the untied bowtie around his collar that seems almost more attractive than when fastened.

“It was nothing,” you demure.

“It was not nothing!” he scoffs, giving you a gentle shoulder bump as you both lean on the high-top table.

“Alright, it was my job then,” you modify, giving him a modest smile as you hotch slightly - beautiful though they are, you cannot wait to take off these high-heels.

“And you are excellent at your job,” he asserts before downing the rest of his champagne and refilling both glasses from the bottle before you. 

He is lingering much longer than you thought he might, long after all his family and all the guests have left. The event was over a while ago, and all around you, the venue staff are clearing tables and stacking chairs.

Tonight was indeed a rousing success. Your first-time event managing the end-of-year fundraising gala for the Bridgerton Family Foundation, they hit a new record amount raised. Standing next to you is the newly minted CEO of that organisation, Benedict Bridgerton, looking far too dashing in his custom-fitted tuxedo. Empathetic and naturally in tune with the needs of others, he is indeed the perfect replacement to run the charitable arm of the family business now that his mother has decided to retire. In previous years, you both took deputy roles - him to his mother, you to your old boss - this was the first year you both stepped up to the plate to run things, and if you do say so yourself, you have both done an excellent job of it. A delightful working partnership built on years of friendship since meeting at university as an exchange student.

“You deserve a long Christmas break after this,” he breezes.

“Going home to the States in a couple of days,” you nod. “I’m both looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure, to be honest,” you confess, this second glass of champagne acting like a truth serum. You didn't want to or even get the chance to drink earlier, but a little tipple to round off the rewarding night is lovely, especially in present company.

“How come?” he seems genuinely curious, his forehead knitting adorably. Of course, he wouldn't understand; he comes from an idyllic family.

“I am very much the black sheep,” you shrug, twirling a finger absent-mindedly around the rim of your glass. “Being childless, unmarried and single at thirty-three in a midwestern family is unheard of and thus the subject of much ridicule.”

“Wow,” his eyebrows shoot up, “that's…,” he hesitates.

“Judgemental? Parochial? Small-minded?” you supply dryly on his behalf.

“I was going to say traditional… but sure, those work too,” he chuckles.

You giggle a little, then sigh. “So a mixed blessing, really. It's nice to see them all; I just wish they were a bit less them, you know?” you gesture vaguely into the air.

“A boyfriend would really take the heat off?” he queries.

“Hah!” you can’t contain the bubble of amusement at the mere thought. “Chance would be a fine thing. But, yes, that likely would take the edge off the worst of their barbs.” 

“Well, I’m at a loose end,” he comments, seemingly changing the subject. “The family is spread to the four corners of the globe this Christmas. Mum is going to Costa Rica for a retired ladies' trip with Lady D. Don't ask,” he adds amusingly, holding up his hands. “Kate and Ant are taking their kids to Lapland, and my various siblings are travelling or staying with partners. Weirdly, it’ll be our first Christmas apart. At least we will all reunite for New Year's at Aubrey Hall.”

“Aww, that sounds nice,” you offer neutrally.

“What I'm saying, y/n, is…,” he continues slowly as if waiting for the penny to drop, “if you need a fake boyfriend, I am available. It’s the very least I can do after all of this,” he explains, gesturing around the room. “Plus, it might be novel to experience a typical American Christmas,” he shrugs casually.

You can’t help it; you gape at him. Completely floored. The idea is utterly left-of-field and yet so exciting your heart pounds. If there is one downside to working so closely with Benedict these last few months, it has been the exponential growth of your inappropriate feelings for him. He is so sweet and handsome; no one would be immune, frankly. It was bad enough when you were at university together; now, well, it’s slightly lethal. Your mind boggles at him playing the role of a doting boyfriend; your body, however, seems very enthused, a warm flush creeping over your skin at the mere thought.

He chuckles nervously, a likely reaction to your stunned silence. “Listen, it was just a silly suggestion; you don’t have t-” 

“Yes!” you squeak, interrupting and grabbing his jacket cuff boldly when he seems to be withdrawing. “Please,” you add almost as an afterthought, unsure how to thank someone for such a generous offer.

His face breaks out into the most handsome grin.

“Excellent! Then, it's a date!” he exclaims, tilting his glass towards yours again. “Well, a fake date,” he amends with a lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip.

Oh god. What am I letting myself in for?!

___

December 23rd

“Are you sure about this? You can still back out...” you offer, fidgeting in the bag-drop queue at Heathrow three days later. 

“Please. What else am I going to do? Sit around my flat, billy-no-mates, and eat a sad M&S ready meal?! You are literally rescuing me,” he counters, probably exaggerating for your amusement.

Very much following the motto of not looking a gift horse in the mouth, you had texted Benedict your flight details that same night, and he has made it all happen in the hours since. Somehow, he managed to wave the Brigerton magic wand and secure what was probably the last seat on your direct flight two days before Christmas. Unluckily for him, he has to slum it in economy with the rest of the plebs like yourself. He couldn't even get a seat near you; he's stuck down the back, in the middle, near the galley.

“How about we swap seats at least?” you offer, guilt creeping in, looking at your printed boarding pass. Not only is Benedict doing you a favour, but he’s also pretzelling his tall self into an uncomfortable seat. The least you can do is offer him your aisle seat.

“I’ll be fine,” he dismisses, waving a hand and fishing out his passport as you are called to the desk.

“Travelling together?” the pretty, painted lady breezes at you, holding out a perfectly manicured hand to take your passport and ticket. Then you watch her practically melt as she claps eyes on Benedict.

Tsk. Typical.

“Not exactl…” you begin.

“Yes,” he cuts in with a winning smile. “Sadly, we couldn't get seats together, though,” he pouts a touch theatrically.

“Oh! Well, let me see what I can do about that… It is Christmas, after all,” she winks at him conspiratorially, then taps on her keyboard.

A few minutes later, your bags are checked in, and you are upgraded to Premium Economy. The lady was apologetic that you still couldn't get seats together but a row apart instead. You are pretty sure if there was space, the handsome bastard would have gotten you upgraded to business without even trying.

Oh, to be a pretty Bridgerton.

___

Twelve hours later, you are in a taxi, tired but grateful for the additional legroom on the flight, even managing a few hours of light napping. Benedict is similarly sleepy, both of your heads lolling around as the car zips down the road. By the time you reach your family home, it’s evening, but to your body clocks, it's the middle of the night.

As you slide out of the taxi, a long arm wraps around your shoulders, and you startle.

“Best to look convincing from the off,” Benedict mutters as he throws his duffle bag on top of your suitcase and trundles them up the path with his other hand.

You nod and dutifully wrap your arm around his waist over his puffer coat, slightly annoyed at how good it feels, as if your arm belongs there. 

“This is so American it's almost a cliche,” he jests, looking up at your parents' house, holiday string lights twinkling in the dusk.

You giggle at his remark and bump him with your hip, quickly escalating into a friendly tussle. He hauls you into his arms and swings you in front of him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, your limbic system alive at the feel of him pressed into you even behind heavy coats.

“Just go with it,” he responds with an easy confidence and that dazzling smile. As if in slow motion, his lips descend, and you reel as they lightly brush yours, an explosion behind your ribs at this passing touch.

Over your shoulder, you hear the front door opening and realise it’s for show, for a particular audience. You are grateful for the forethought but completely discombobulated from this partial kiss.

How am I going to survive a week of this?

“Mrs y/l/n, Mr y/l/n,” he calls as you linger in his arms, not wanting to turn around just yet.

“Well, hello there. This must be the famous Mr Bridgerton,” your dad's opening line. “We have heard so very little about you. Before yesterday anyway,” he adds, already twisting the knife in early as you pull up to the porch.

“That may well be because I asked her not to,” Benedict rebuts smoothly, releasing you to give a firm handshake. “I love the element of surprise,” he adds with a smile you have seen him deploy before, a weapon’s grade charm offensive.

Your mother’s face is a picture. “Well, well, we certainly didn't expect someone quite so handsome to accompany our daughter,” she drawls, verging on flirtatious. 

Benedict drapes his arm around your shoulders and nuzzles your hair. “Whyever not? She is simply wonderful,” he sighs, his hot breath tickling your scalp before letting you go again.

Damn, he is good at this.

“Hello, mom, dad…” you greet politely before moving in for a short hug from both.

“Happy holidays, darling. Let's get inside,” your mother fusses.

Within a few minutes, after some casual pleasantries are exchanged as you remove coats, you watch your mother give Benedict a tour of their home, including, to your chagrin, your childhood bedroom, which is a time capsule from your teen years. At least the dog-eared band posters have been taken down. As you drift back to the living room, Christmas music plays from a speaker behind the tree. Your family loves to go all out on the holiday decorating. It does feel festive and cosy, though.

“It will be a full house with all of our kids and their spouses staying tonight. So there are no spare rooms. You are on the sofabed in the den, Mr Bridgerton,” your dad comments, gesturing to the room next door; the message very clear.

“That's fine,” Benedict huffs genially, “and please, call me Ben.” 

“I might actually head to bed now,” you admit over a stifled yawn. “My body thinks it's 2am.”

“Same,” Benedict chimes.

“Oh, you should stay up, try to get into the timezone,” your mother clucks, always with an opinion about how you are not doing things how she would. “Ben has not yet been introduced to Tucker, Travis, Tegan and their spouses. They are all still out at dinner…” she indicates, listing your siblings and looking most perturbed at your decision.

“Tomorrow, Mom,” you assure.

“Alright,” she capitulates with a sigh, mostly when she sees Benedict yawn behind his hand. 

“Goodnight…” you offer to all and go to leave the room, but as you get to the door, Benedict stops you with an arm shooting out.

“Don't I get a goodnight kiss, my love?” he pouts.

At first, you look up at him shocked, then a flick of his eyes over your shoulder makes you realise he is continuing the ruse. 

“Maybe,” you flirt back, jetlag somehow making you daring. An ideal excuse to be coquettish, even though your parents likely can't hear your exchange above the music playing. They can certainly see your body language, though.

“Oh, I see. What do I have to do to earn it?” Benedict plays along, a dangerous smile and a large hand low on your lumbar spine, pulling you into him. 

“Tell me you will miss not sleeping next to me,” you boldly request, a little cheeky smile tugging at your lips to see how far he will let you push this.

A long finger swipes a tendril of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a thumb curling under your chin.

“Every night I'm not sleeping next to you is my misfortune,” he replies, sounding wistful, his eyes seeming to burn with something approaching sincerity. It makes your stomach swoop like you are standing on a cliff edge on a windy day.

“Good answer,” you stumble in acknowledgement, pushing up onto your tip toes, heart in your mouth.

“I do what I can,” he answers against your lips and then draws you into a slow, plush kiss. 

His mouth doesn't open, but it doesn't matter; the hint of wetness on his pursed lips has your body reacting, a charge ripping through your being. A sudden yearning for him to push you against the wall and plunder your mouth with his tongue. When he withdraws, you know your pupils are blown wide, but you are taken aback that his are, too; the dampness on his lip shines in the glow of the Christmas tree. 

Your father pointedly clearing his throat breaks the spell, and you jump apart as if burned.

“Sorry,” you both mumble and Benedict pulls the most adorable ‘oopsie, my bad’ face. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says tacitly.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

As you climb the stairs slowly, exhaling the breath it feels like you have been holding since he grabbed your arm, you know that kiss will be replaying in your head for weeks. If he keeps this up, you may well combust. 

This was a fantastically bad idea.

___

December 24th

You awaken on Christmas Eve when it’s still dark outside. A glance at your phone says it’s right after 4:30am. Already knowing you won’t get any more sleep, you throw open your case and grab slippers and a hoodie, deciding to head down to make a coffee.

You almost jump out of your skin when you see a silhouette sitting at the kitchen table.

“Sorry,” Benedict atones as he sees you clutching your chest, “time zones.”

“Same… coffee?”

“Please…”

As you potter around, making a pot as quiet as possible, he scrolls on his phone. You join him once it’s brewing.

“How is the sofa bed?” you ask, wincing guiltily.

“I've slept on worse,” he obfuscates jovially. 

“Sorry, if I’d known there wouldn't be a spare bed, I would have booked a hotel,” you apologise, rubbing your temples.

“No, it’s tradition to stay with family at Christmas,” he rebukes with a smile.

“Thank you again for all this,” you mutter, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets. “Have you done this fake boyfriend thing before?” your question is only partially in jest.

“No, what makes you say that?” he huffs bemused.

“You, uhh, have been doing an excellent acting job,” you shrug. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think they quite believe I could land you, but I’d argue you have been very convincing regardless….”

“Don't say that,” he frowns, cutting in. 

“You don’t think they buy it?” concerned things may not be working as well as you believed.

“Not that,” he waves a dismissive hand, “the other thing. Why wouldn’t they believe you could ‘land me’?” he rounds off with a quotation gesture.

You bark a laugh. “Have you seen you?  

“Stop,” he seems genuinely ticked. “That is all shit. I would be lucky to have you,” he mumbles, not meeting your eye, staring out of the French doors into the inky blackness. It won’t be sunrise for another three hours this time of year. “I am lucky, in fact, to have you as a friend,” he adds, his thoughts sounding far away.

“Well, same. I still have no idea how to repay you for all of this…” you admit.

“I already said, none needed. Why would I not choose a little foreign adventure with a good friend when the alternative is Christmas alone?!” he scoffs as the coffee machine beeps.

Unsure quite what to say, you get up to make a cup, knowing without asking how he takes his. Retaking your seat, you pick at the idea again.

“I think we should strategise…” you mutter into your mug.

“About what?”

“The plan. Now you have some inkling of what they are like, maybe we should talk tactics…?” you trail off, not sure even yourself where you are going with this.

“It's simple, isn't it?” he counters, taking a gulp of coffee. “We hold hands, hug and kiss occasionally, you know, act like a couple….” he shrugs as if it's the simplest thing in the world. Maybe it is to him; his heart probably doesn't pound when you so much as touch.

“Okay, well, I guess we can improvise. But let me know if it all gets too much. Send me a secret code or something,” you offer.

“Like a safe word?” he chuckles.

“Something like that,” you allow, trying to mask the heat you feel creeping up your sternum at the very thought.

Just then, his phone vibrates on the table.

“Sorry, it's Ant. I should probably take this,” he apologises, standing up.

You swallow a sip of your coffee, trying not to think too hard about anything, when suddenly he leans over your shoulder from behind, the phone still buzzing in his hand.

“By the way, my safeword is Byron,” he rumbles silkily into your ear. “Not that I’ll ever need it,” he adds, walking away casually while you try to bring your heart rate back to normal.

Dear God, this man is going to kill me.

___

You take your coffee back to bed when Benedict doesn't reappear after a few minutes and end up passing out again for a couple of hours. By the time you are awake again, the house is a hive of noise and activity. You pass Kallie, your oldest brother's wife, in the hallway, and she punches your arm lightly.

“Welcome home, and well fucking done!” she winks, and you frown, confused what she’s talking about. She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “That delicious slice of Britishness in there,” she elucidates. 

Shit! It just occurs to you that by falling back asleep, you left Benedict alone to fend for himself in the melee of your family. The poor man must be mauled alive by now.

So when you enter the kitchen, the last thing you expect to see is the sight before you. Benedict, with an apron on, tossing American-style pancakes like a pro on the hotplate while your family chatters around him, applauding as he serves up another perfect-looking batch.

“Darling!” he calls when he sees you. “Come here!” he exclaims warmly, holding out his arms.

Unsure what else to do and powerless to resist the opportunity, you walk over and allow yourself to be swept into his arms. He presses a kiss onto your cheek. He smells like butter and syrup, and you want to burrow into him.

“Sorry I left you alone in the lion's den,” you say close to his ear so only he can hear.

He smiles into your hair. “They are fine, honestly; I can handle it,” he assures mutely.

You pull back and swipe a tiny fleck of batter from his face, enjoying the round of his cheekbone as you do. What makes an odd weight land on your ribs is how his pupils dilate fractionally as you lick the dot off your thumb.

“Delicious, Mr Bridgerton,” again, unable to stop yourself from flirting with him now you have the excuse.

Something in him looks almost wild as your gaze locks.

“Get a room!” your brother, Tucker, jeers from the table.

Part of you wants to sass back some version of ‘apparently we’re not allowed’ and ‘I wish’, but all you can do is smile at Benedict as he mirrors your expression.

“More, please, Mr Brid-un,” your youngest nephew toddles over, holding up his plate expectantly.

Benedict finally looks away and ruffles the little kid’s hair. “Certainly, Brandon,” he offers warmly.

“What I find fascinating is how a proper British gentleman knows how to make good old-fashioned American pancakes,” your mother pipes up from her seat at the kitchen island.

“Oh, my nanny was an American,” Benedict waves the spatula as he pours more batter onto the hotplate and begins a new batch.

“Your grandmother was from the colonies?” Travis mocks, feigning outrage.

“Oh no… not that sort. My umm nanny nanny, as in the lady who looked after us as kids,” he explains, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Shhiittttt,” your sister Teegan drawls, looking up from her phone for the first time. “You’re like actual rich, huh?”

“Language Tee!” your mother warns from across the room.

Teegan pulls a face and then turns her attention back to Benedict, awaiting his response.

“Please, can you all not be so… y/l/n,” you cut in, holding up your hands to the gathered family. “For once, can you all just…?” you taper off, hoping they will read between the lines.

“How’d you two meet?” Dean, Teegan’s husband, calls out, ignoring your plea completely.

“We actually met at university many years ago,” Benedict explains, flipping the pancakes as they bubble. “But we started working together last year on various projects, and well, we grew much closer.” 

So far, so truthful.

“Then, well, one memorable day, when we successfully wrapped up a project we had worked on so hard together, I realised she meant so much more to me than a friend,” Benedict continues, sounding so sincere you almost believe it yourself. A tiny flutter in your chest that the project he refers to could be the Gala. “I kept it to myself for a while, but late one night, I couldn't resist, and I confessed my feelings. I am the luckiest man alive because it turns out she felt the same. And, well… here we are,” he concludes, shooting you a look so loaded you forget it's a yarn for a few seconds.

“Friends-to-lovers, I stan,” Claire, your other sister-in-law, comments. She always has her head stuck in some romance book.

As Benedict serves the next batch, the focus of the room is pulled to your nieces and nephews as they overload their pancakes with toppings, and you are grateful to be out of the glare of the family spotlight temporarily.

“How did I do?” Benedict murmurs into your ear as he sidles up next to you, wrapping an arm around your back. There's a tinge of pride in his voice. He knows he has them eating out the palm of his hand, and fuck if it isn't so attractive.

“I should tip you…” you joke, not wanting to give away quite how flustered you are.

“I accept payment in kisses,” he breathes, his smouldering stare sliding down to your lips as you crane your head to look up at him. 

It's only a few minutes later, as you grab a pancake from the stack that you realise he didn't say that at volume anyone else could hear… it was purely for you. And you have no earthly idea what to do with that thought.

___

The rest of Christmas Eve passes with your family’s usual rituals, with Benedict beside you, playing the doting boyfriend to perfection. Each brush of his makes your adrenaline spike—a divine torture. 

While dinner is cooking in the afternoon, your parents usher most of you out of the house for a walk in the bracing cold to build up an appetite. And so you stroll, Benedict’s gloved hand in yours.

“So Ben, is everyone in London not married with kids, or is it only my sister who can't seem to figure it out despite her old age?” your sister Teegan digs as she pushes the buggy next to you.

“Well, we are a similar age, and I'm not married with kids either,” he points out breezily.

“Yeah, but…” she halts, realising there is no response she can think of. “Wait, why don't you have kids yet? Don’t you want a family? I thought you said you had lots of brothers and sisters?”

“I do come from a big family, yes. And I suppose one day, yes, I do want kids of my own,” he adds, seemingly honest as you listen intently, your heartbeat in your ears, “but I feel no rush yet.”

“So you’re not knocking this one up anytime soon then?” your brother Tucker stirs, checking your shoulder roughly from the other side.

You can't help but feel a blush darken your cheeks at that and refuse to look up at Benedict. You open your mouth to tell Tucker to shut up, but Benedict cuts across you.

“If anyone has come close to being someone I would consider having kids with, it's your sister,” he admits casually, as if talking about the weather. But for you, it feels like you are back on that proverbial cliff edge about to dive over, heart racing. It takes every fibre of your being to keep walking and acting naturally, grateful for the gloves between your joined hands; not sure you could handle his skin touching yours as he says such things.

“Ooooooo,” Tucker singsongs, “going to the chapel, and they’re gonna get mar...”

“Cut it out!” you grouse.

He peels a laugh, then jogs on ahead to catch up with Dean.

“I’m sorry about that,” your apology hushed as you keep walking, Teegan falling behind you to deal with one of her kids' tantrums.

“Why? It's an inevitable question when you meet your other half’s family,” he points out, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you wander as a pair.

“Yes, but… it's a bit much, considering they just met you hours ago. They are intentionally stirring the pot. Trying to scare you off,” you frown, realising what they are doing as you say it aloud.

Benedict stops walking, and it makes you halt, too. “Nothing could scare me off,” he assures, his face soft with understanding as he cups your jaw. His cold, damp glove is a balm to your flushed, embarrassed face.

“Right,” you nod, “cos this is all fake…” you add quietly, trying to hide the defeated tone.

“Anyone who knows how great you are would not be scared off by the idea of a future with you,” Benedict says soothingly, a thumb stroking your cheekbone.

“Well, when you meet a candidate who fits that bill, send them over to me, yeah?” you quip brittly as you look off into the distance, unable to meet his hazy, sincere eyes.

His response is interrupted by your niece tugging on his coat.

“Uncle Ben, can I sit on your shoulders? Please? Daddy already has Brandon, and my feet are so tired,” she whines in that dramatic way only little ones do.

Benedict laughs and releases you. “Certainly, Sofia,” he smiles as he hauls her onto his shoulders, uncaring of the mess her little boots smear onto his coat as he does so.

“Faster! Go faster!” she orders, and genially, Benedict obeys, moving ahead and breaking into a light jog as she giggles loudly and holds onto his chin.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest at the sight of him with a kid on his shoulders, as if he were born to do so.

This was such a mistake…

___

“When are you moving home, y/n?”

You knew this was likely coming. The question your mum has to ask every time you visit. And every year, your answer is the same.

“I don't think I will be, Mom,” you explain calmly as you pass the plate of peas to your sister, not wanting to look at Benedict, who sits opposite you at the long table. “I love London. It feels like home,” you add with a shrug.

“Yes, but this living abroad thing is supposed to be a phase—a young person thing. You are mid-thirties now. It's time you settled down,” she frowns.

“I am settled,” you reply neutrally, “I have a place of my own that I love.”

“Yes, but an apartment, sorry ‘flat’,” she self-corrects sarcastically, “that’s not a real home. A home is a house with a garden in a safe town with good schools for your children,” she lectures.

This line of discussion used to annoy and rile you up, but you have become weary of it over the years. The rest of your family is tucking into their food but listening smugly, having towed the traditional family line.

“I think home can be many things,” Benedict pipes up from across the table. “A home is about where you feel safe and secure, surely Mrs y/l/n?”

“Well, yes…” your mother falters, slightly taken aback by his interruption but still charmed by his effortless congeniality.

“Then I would say your daughter’s home is London,” he smiles disarmingly. “You should see her there; I encourage you to visit sometime. She has a home she has made beautiful. She has many friends, and she is amazing at her job. She is happy. I, for one, cannot imagine her anywhere else.”

Again, you can feel your heart beating at his sweet words, even knowing they are all for show; it's lovely that someone has your back for once, defending your choices.

“But what of the schools, Mr Bridgerton?” your dad piles in, “I have heard nightmares of the school system in the inner cities, in this country and yours,” he shudders.

“My family has always gone to a superb prep school in Chelsea. I see no reason why our children could not do the same when the time comes,” Benedict responds with a winning smile.

You almost drop the corn casserole at that line.

Plonking it heavily on the table and taking a deep breath, you finally pluck the courage to look over at him. Looking back at you is a playful smile and a wink. And suddenly, you know what he is doing. It likely appears genuine to others, but you know him too well; you know all his facial tells. He is doing this for sport. To entertain you. The kaleidoscope of emotions you feel is near exhausting, relief mixed with a tang of disappointment that it's all for show.

“Well, that's wonderful news, Benedict,” your mother squeaks. “I cannot wait to hear more once you are engaged,” never failing to find an opportunity to take a dig.

“You will be the first to hear, I promise,” he smiles winningly and takes a bite of food. “This is delicious, by the way,” he adds, “I hope you will share the recipe with me, seeing as we will likely be family one day...”

And just like that, he expertly manoeuvres your mother onto the only topic she loves more than marriage - cooking. As if he could intuit how to steer the conversation. Relieved, you sit back and finally take a deep breath, then a bite of your admittedly delicious plate. You are even grateful he manages to distract them long enough that there are no jibes about your weight.

Maybe this wasn't such a mistake…

___

A few hours later, with the little ones tucked up in bed, the adults gather around the tree with the fireplace roaring and the festive music softly playing. It's time for gift exchange, a family tradition away from the hubbub of Christmas morning with the focus on the children ripping through all the gifts Santa left for them.

You are enjoying the buzz a second large glass of wine provides when the focus turns to you. Benedict sits beside you and slides a hand onto your knee. Still, your body reacts, but you attempt to act as if it doesn't make your blood pump hard in your head.

“Benedict, we didn't know you were coming, so I'm sorry we have no gift for you to open,” your mother says sheepishly, “and y/n, we have done as you always ask; we have sent you a gift card over email,” she explains, “which makes me sad as you have no gift to unwrap….”

“That's fine, Mom, thank you. And don't worry, I don't need a gift,” you assure, taking another swig.

“Actually….” Benedict clears his throat, “I have a gift for my girlfriend if that is okay?”

You look agog at him.

“But… I didn't get you anything,” you splutter, even as he moves his hand from you and reaches behind his back, revealing a small navy velvet box.

“Don't worry. It's nothing really, just something small,” Benedict assures, even as you can feel everyone’s eyes on you as you reluctantly let him place it in your hands.

Slowly, you pull at the tail of the lovely soft gold ribbon until it relents. With your heart in your mouth, you snap open the box. Nestled in more navy velvet is a tiny, beautiful crystal penguin, your favourite animal.

“Ben…” you are lost for all other words, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“I remember you loved the larger one my mum had on her desk,” he explains lowly as you stare transfixed by all the facets catching the twinkling light. “Every time we had a meeting, you would stare at it or play with it. So I knew I had to get you one too, for your desk… or wherever you want to put it,” he modifies sweetly.

You can't help it - the swell of emotions makes you throw your arms around him as you clutch the precious item. It's like he has managed to distil everything you could want from a Christmas gift - something personal, tailored to you, nothing too extravagant but small, elegant and beautiful. And that he had the forethought to bring it across the Atlantic with him makes your heart burst even more. He is possibly the best friend you could ever have. You fervently wish he was so much more.

“I can't believe you remember that,” you mumble. “This is perfect and beautiful. Thank you, Ben, thank you so much.”

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he says into your hair at a volume you know is designed to be heard by the room.

“Merry Christmas,” you return quieter, only for him.

Vaguely, you hear your mother moving on to hand a gift to another, perhaps embarrassed by the display of affection between you. Grateful that the family focus seems to have shifted to someone else, you go to pull away from the embrace, but Benedict draws you tighter into him. 

“Lovers don't let go so quickly,” he whispers. “Now I'm going to kiss you again if that is okay…”

Your tummy flips. “Okay…” you barely struggle out the word.

Then his hand is on your cheek, and time seems to slow like treacle; his eyes burn into yours as he moves in, then flutter closed as his lips meet yours. Again, it is like a rollercoaster, a thrilling plunge as his lips move over yours. It's like the previous night, respectful with a closed mouth but so sweet and promising, so much more a whole ripple runs through your body. You need more, so much more, desperate to climb into his lap and demand a real kiss, audience be damned.  When you part, he tilts his forehead against yours and smiles gently, licking his lip as if savouring the taste.

“I'm glad you like it. The gift that is,” he clarifies, a sweet mumble.

You giggle. “I love it, Ben, thank you. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything; I feel terrible.”

“Being here with you is gift enough,” he assures in a voice that melts your insides, which you assume is for the audience.

My god, this man will be the death of me.

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant fog of wine, your siblings holding court and telling stories as you listen, feeling the weight of Benedict’s hand again on your leg as he sips on a whiskey. Once again, you feel the creeping of jetlag and decide to turn in around 10pm. You give Benedict a peck on the cheek before he can draw you into another confounding kiss and make your escape upstairs with a glass of eggnog and your book.

As you settle into bed, you try not to let your thoughts spiral as you catch sight of the crystal penguin in its box. Instead, you tell yourself he is a good friend and rich; it's likely nothing to him, and not to read too much into it.

___

December 25th 

At some point, you drift off to sleep, book in hand, the timezone still catching you out. You only realise it when you are awoken suddenly around 2am by a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you croak, sitting up and rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light; you had fallen asleep with the bedside lamp on low while reading.

The door opens ajar, and Benedict’s handsome face pops in. “I saw your light on…” he says softly, “just wanted to check on you.”

You put your book aside, pull the covers around your neck and feel an odd flutter as he closes the door behind him. He looks cosy in long tartan pyjama bottoms and a soft dark t-shirt.

“I'm sure your dad would kill me if he knew I were here,” he jests as he hovers a few feet away.

“Come sit,” you pat the bed next to you, even as you feel strange about him being here, dead of night on Christmas Day. 

He nods gratefully and perches on the edge of your bed. It's a full-size mattress, bigger than a twin, but not a double bed. You can feel his weight tugging the bedding tight over your thighs.

“Thank you again for my gift, truly,” you gesture to the box on your bedside table.

“I had to. I couldn't think of anything more… you...” Benedict smiles that demure smile with downcast eyes that always makes you want to shake him and tell him to stop looking so fucking adorable. Or mount him. Or both. You have to bite your lip to stop blurting out your errant thoughts.

“But still to buy me such a wonderful gift and put up with my family… I mean… you deserve a medal,” you shrug.

A hand clamps onto your knee through the bedding, but it still surprises you. 

“Stop it,” he gruffs. “I'm going to need you to stop. Seriously. I chose to come here. It's been fun. Something different. Yes, your family is a bit… intense, but everyone’s is. Each has its own special blend of crazy. You’ve seen the Bridgerton brand of dysfunctional up close,” he points out, knowing without saying more how much you have watched them bicker over the years.

“But you’ve said all those lovely things, made up all these amazing believable stories…” you argue back weakly.

“Every single thing I have said to your family has been the truth,” he responds solemnly.

You replay a few choice record-scratch moments in your head. “But what about the stuff about me being the person you could see yourself having kids with and where these imaginary kids would go to school…” you point out, wincing as you do.

“I told no lies,” he answers each syllable enunciated slowly, staring you down.

It feels like your whole world tilts when he utters those words.

“What are you saying?” you query, breathier than you mean to sound but needing him to spell it out.

He sighs, but a mischievous grin twitches the corner of his mouth. “You are much smarter than this; don't be obtuse now, y/n,” he rumbles, something in the challenging way he says it catches a fire behind your ribs.

“Ben…” you warn, so many contradictory feelings at once.

“You are all the things I said and more, and you must know how amazing you are,” he offers softly as you feel your eyes misting.

“Please don't,” your last vestige of resistance, still not believing what he says can possibly be true, too close to a festive miracle. Part of you thinks that at any moment, you will wake up alone and bereft.

His fingertips brush your cheek, and you inhale sharply and look up to see him inches from your face.

“Fine, if you don't somehow believe my words, maybe you’ll believe my deeds…”

It's the last few words out of his mouth before his lips meet yours.

This time, it's not for an audience; it's just for the two of you, and it almost stops your heart. A hesitant, soft, sweet brush that becomes more as he leans in and deepens the kiss. His lips part yours as your mind grinds to a halt, tentatively following his lead, kissing him back… the catalyst, the permission he needs. A large hand rounds behind your head and pulls you forward. Suddenly, it's a tidal wave, his tongue rolling greedily over yours, becoming hungry, urgent, desperate, your body awash with chemicals, scarcely able to believe Benedict, the star of every one of your spicy dreams, is here in your childhood bedroom, kissing the very life out of you in the early hours of Christmas Day.

“Lay down,” he murmurs into your skin as his lips glide over your cheek, and you follow his order without thought, shuffling down obediently until you lie flat and stare up at him transfixed. 

It’s as if he’s taken your disbelief as a challenge to prove how very real this is. With one hand, he tosses aside the covers and crawls over you until he is engulfing you, surrounding you with his scent that makes your mouth water. His lips are hot on your neck as his hands map your body, lingering in places you are self-conscious about. 

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” he sighs as if disputing your internal monologue, his breath ghosting warm over your collarbone. 

“Stop…” you demure, wriggling under him, feeling bashful.

“No..” his crooked smile is lethal as his head pops up from worrying your throat with a little edge of his teeth. His hand skates your clothed breast, and on instinct, you push up into it, your nipple hardening as the heat of his palm seeps through your nightshirt. “Please take off your top,” he implores, his mouth finding your lips again. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of touching your naked body.”

“I can’t believe this…” you mutter, shaky, confounded that it could be true—the man you desire desiring you back just as wantonly. He lowers his body between your legs, surging his hips so you feel something insistent inside his pyjamas.

“Now, do you believe me?” he dusks into your ear.

“Benedict…” falls from your lips as an excited shudder.

“Say my name again, please,” he huffs right against your cheekbone, pinning you under him with his pelvis.

“Benedict,” you repeat, revelling in the effect it seems to have on him.

It gives you the courage to whip off your top. The noise he makes as he realises you are naked underneath it is a beeline right between your legs.

“Shh,” you hush, giggling, a rush through your veins, not wanting anyone to disturb this, as he slides his lips down over your skin towards your breasts.

“I cannot,” he remarks gleefully,  “not with such a bounty beneath me.” 

His lips clamp onto your left nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue with an intensity that steals the breath from your lungs.

“Might wake fam…” you stumble out, impressed you can even do that.

He pulls up, his biceps in tense relief as he balances on his fists curled on either side of your waist. “Then lock your damn door,” he growls in a way that has you clenching.

“No lock…” you squeak, wishing beyond belief you had one.

“Shit, really?” he sighs, leaning back down to kiss over your sternum. “I’m not sure I can be quiet; I’ve wanted this for too long…”

You go to query that statement, but he moves to your other breast and does the same, so the only sound you are capable of is a guttural moan.

“Shh,” he hushes you back cheekily, tilting his head up from your chest, eyes sparkling and face so achingly handsome you still can barely believe this is happening,

“We really do have to be quiet…” you point out reluctantly.

“I know,” he sighs into your breastbone, dropping a soft kiss there. “I want to tell you so many things….” 

“Whisper them to me…” you beseech, running your fingers through his lush, thick head of hair, tilting your breast back up to his mouth.

He smirks and catches your unsubtle hint, once again using his talented mouth to make you shudder under him. He runs a finger down your centre line to your belly. 

“Your body is perfect,” he sighs. You go to protest, but he shoots you a disapproving look, so you bite back your words. “I could get lost for hours tracing your lines,” he hums, his featherlight touch tickling as it crosses under your belly button, making you giggle. “Hmm, a little ticklish too,” he sounds utterly captivated by that discovery, throwing you a very troublesome expression.

“Don't use it against me…” you warn, knowing he will ignore you, a fizzy feeling at this playfulness.

“Oh, I just might…” he chuckles as he runs his tongue lower over your torso, a hot, damp line that leaves fluttering in his wake. “I could do this all night…your skin is so soft,” he purrs, inhaling deeply, nuzzling his nose above the line of your pyjama bottoms. “You always smell so fantastic,” he sighs, using his teeth to tug on the ribbon. 

You’ve never had someone be this vocal during intimacy. It makes you feel reassured but also slightly bewildered by just how aroused you are getting, Benedict’s resonant voice skittering compliments over your skin, making you embarrassingly wet. Your hands greedily pull at his t-shirt, hoping he will get the hint.

“If you want something from me, you have to say it,” he teases as he switches to using his fingers to undo the bow on your pyjamas. 

“Please take off your top, Ben,” you mewl, even as your heart pounds at the idea you will soon be naked under him.

“I will,” he promises, “in a minute…” 

As if sensing your apprehension about removing your last item of clothing, he leaves it in place, shuffling lower and stretching your legs wide with his shoulders. You gasp loudly as his mouth, hot through the thin cotton protecting your modesty, sucks insistently over your slit. A large hand curling around your hip to stop you canting off the bed. Your clit throbs, and your pussy leaks copiously down your bottom.

“Fuck I can tell how wet you are even through this fabric,” he stutters.

“I'm sorry...” you squirm, embarrassed.

He surges upright, grabs your hands from around his head and cages them on the mattress beside your hips.

“Let's get two things very clear,” his voice stern but achingly seductive. “One, your body is incredible, and you should know by now how much I desire you. Two, if you ever apologise again for being turned on, I will be annoyed. Do you know how proud I am? That I can do this to you? How absolutely rigid this makes me?” rutting his hard cock against your left calf to prove his point. “I want your desire running down to your knees. I want you mindless and trembling with need for me.” 

“O-okay,” you stumble out, entranced. This filthy poetry and feralness is beyond anything you could imagine him capable of. You have seen hints of his menacing potential, but full force, it’s breathtaking.

“Good,” he smiles crookedly, releasing your hands. “Now lift your hips so I can get you properly naked,” the slightly bossy rejoinder really working for you.

Mutely, you do as bidden, his fingertips trailing fire down your hips as he tugs the material over your thighs, impatiently pulling them from around your ankles and tossing them over his shoulder, his gaze locked onto your body. He groans a curse, and you again find yourself clenching around nothing at his untamed response.

Whispering his name is a reflex, your fingers carding again into his hair as he lowers his mouth and suckles the skin of your hip before slowly, almost torturously, winding his way lower towards your centre. Every place he touches feels alive and fluttering, him whispering reassurance and praise into your flesh, like a sensual requiem that catches your breath. By the time he trails his nose down the crease where your thigh meets your body, you are panting, eyes screwed shut, head tilted back, anticipation knotting your guts.

“Look at me,” he orders softly, his face framed by your thighs as you gulp and look down the plane of your body to him. “Don’t look away; I want to see your eyes when I do this,” his breath hot on your slit.

He unfurls his tongue and ploughs through your wet flesh, making your toes and fingers curl. You have to bite your lip and curse behind your teeth, the sensation overwhelming, his eye flashing fire in his blown pupils at your bodily reaction. You hiss loudly, needing to call out so bad your lungs ache. You twist your pillow to bite down on a corner but keep your eyes on him as told. He chuckles pridefully, the sensation shooting up your pelvis, then keeps going. Teasing around your clit with a lathing action that is nothing like you've had before, devouring, using his whole face, strong arms wrapping your thighs in a vice-like grip, held lewdly open It feels so good that within moments you are panting. Still, part of you is tense, scared about your ability to be silent.

“Relax,” he breathes, shaking your hip gently in his grip, sensing the tension in your being. 

“I'm worried I won't be able to stay quiet enough,” you admit, muffled around the pillowcase, looking away to stare at the ceiling as he busses a soft kiss onto your inner thigh.  

“One moment…” he withdraws and hops off the bed. You watch, vaguely dazed, as he drags a heavy chair against the door and wedges it under the handle so it can’t be opened. “There, now we should get some warning.”.

When he turns back around, you instinctively pull the cover over yourself to hide your naked body, even as you can’t help but stare at the tent in his pyjama bottoms, mouth watering at visions of what lies beneath.

“Don’t do that,” he reproaches softly, “show yourself to me.”

Reluctantly, you push the sheet away again, squirming slightly as his eyes roam your body lasciviously as he prowls over to you, stripping off his t-shirt as he does. His naked torso is perfect, toned and honed, and as he crawls over you, you are hypnotised by the view. 

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs, dropping a kiss on the tip of your nose, the scent of your arousal on his face. “Never cover yourself in front of me; you should be proud of your body.”

You’ve never had someone say that before, and your insides are molten, a need for him that burns so bright, an inferno purely of his making.

“Tell me what you want,” he proposes, lacing your fingers with his, kissing your fingertips, then sucking them into his mouth, looking at you expectantly as you stutter at his warm, wet, talented tongue lathing over your fingertips.

“Everything…” you blurt out honestly. “Anything. This is all wonderful… Can I return the favour for you?” you deflect, brushing your other hand tentatively over his bulge as he hovers over you.

“Yes, you bloody can,” he growls, releasing your fingers from his lips as his eyes flash dark. But he grabs your hand away from his cock, calming his tone. “But not tonight. Another time…”

“Another time?” you echo, temporarily stunned by the idea this isn't a never-to-be-repeated Christmas miracle.

“Yes. Why would you think this a one-time thing?” his brow knits as he drops a kiss on your cheek. “What about my actions and words tonight suggest that?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” you concede, “just history…”

He cups your jaw. “The past is the past. This is now and me,” he states clearly, running a thumb tenderly over your lip. “I will do whatever you want. If you tell me to leave this room right now, I will, and I won't think any less of you…”

“Don't you dare,” it's a snarl from some dark recess deep inside you, your legs twining around his to lock him in place.

“There she is…” he chuckles, that lopsided grin taking over his face before kissing a line down your throat. “Now tell me what you want, y/n.”

“I want you inside me,” you confess, running your hands over his naked back, loving the play of muscles under warm skin.

He groans at your words, an edge of teeth on your jugular, making you ripen, feel daring. If he wants to know just how wild he makes you, you are going to show it. You grab his face and drag it up until he is over you again, his pupils blown and his hair a mess from your tugging.

“Fuck me, right now, Ben,” you demand hotly, pushing your body up into his and delving a hand inside the back of his pyjamas to grab his shapely rear, keen for him to be as naked as you.

He snarls and pins your arms beside your head on the pillow.

“Do you have any condoms?” he breathes hot in your ear.

“Ah shit,” your head thumps back, chastising yourself for not planning better. But then this seemed like such an unlikely outcome, frankly miraculous; why on earth would you have?

“Good thing I came prepared then,” he teases, releasing his grip to produce a small packet from the pocket of his pyjamas.

“You….” you scold, equal parts impressed and irked, running your fingers around his waistband. 

“It was a sincere wish, not an expected conclusion,” he smiles bashfully, his lips meeting yours for a searing kiss as he slips off the last of his clothing.

A shiver runs down your spine as he bears you into the mattress, naked, his rigid cock brandishing the inside of your thigh. He keeps kissing you over and over until your lips feel tingly from the slight hint of stubble around his. You wrap all of your limbs around him, craving for your bodies to be melded.

When he pushes up slightly to rip open the packet, you glance down and see, nestled in a patch of trimmed hair, a sizeable but very pretty cock. You can’t resist reaching out and touching it, loving the feel of steely strength under the silky texture; his soft groan is like music to your ears. Sighing his name, you are impatient for him to be inside you, already knowing it will feel wonderful, part of you craving skin on skin. 

Again he wears that demure smile, looking up at you through his lashes, so you take over, eagerly rolling the condom onto that pretty cock and then pulling him down on top of you forcefully.

“I like it when you are just a little bossy,” he confesses into your mouth, one hand pulling the cover over you both, then sliding between your bodies to guide himself towards you.

“I like it when you are a little bossy,” you counter, but then all your words die out as his cock slides insistently into you.

Your eyes roll back as he inches inside, so much heat and girth, your body stretching to accommodate his invasion. You both seem to utter a curse, and your hands grasp each other tight.

“You feel amazing…” he murmurs as he bottoms out, the feeling of fullness so perfect.

You whisper your agreement as he withdraws and surges back in, your feet curling around his legs, toes sliding into the light fuzz on the back of his calves. There are soft sighs, both of you trying to muffle your sounds as he sets a languid pace, your body rolling with his; each push has your walls clinging to him, your breasts squashing against his broad chest. What strikes you most as you move together is that nothing is awkward; it all feels natural, predestined, an easy intimacy that suggests months or even years together rather than a first time.

He feels so good moving inside you, so perfect; all you can do is cling to him, trying to convey with your eyes what you dare not voice. Afraid that if you open your mouth, you will release the noises you are fighting to hold in, blazing in your lungs. His stare is blistering, too, a blush across his face that speaks of desire and denied words, his neck corded, a pulse beating wildly in his prominent vein, a sheen gathering on his forehead as he pushes into you over and over.

His breath is hot on your temple as he shifts, dropping a shoulder and reaching down, looping your leg into the crook of his arm, the sheet pulling taut around your knee as he does. He hits a new spot deep inside with his next thrust, which has you digging your nails into his back and whimpering behind your sealed lips. It's as if he is doing his damnedest to break you, make you cry out, and it's the best torture you have ever known.

You huff out of your nose as he does the same, both sounding winded, as he picks up the pace, your teenage bed starting to squeak in protest.

“Shhh,” you plead with the furniture as much as him.

He stops moving, buried in you, and reaches above, stuffing a throw pillow between the bedframe and the wall, his arms flexing deliciously right over your face, the scent of his body spiking your need. It makes you grasp your thighs around his hips and flip him over, landing with a bounce, him still inside as you are on top of him now.

“Wow, that was…” he looks both astounded and exhilarated.

“Surprising?” you supply with a triumphant crooked smile of your own, your hands tracing the lines of his pectorals.

“Wonderful,” he clarifies, his hands grasping your hips as you start to ride him. The way he looks up at you, with dark pupils and a bitten lip, makes you fearless. Starting a leisurely pace, you place your hands over his on your hips, fingers lacing as his eyes slip from yours briefly, transfixed by his cock disappearing into you.

He groans low, undulating beneath you, pushing up as you sink down, his eyes back to your face, a prideful expression as your mouth drops open, his cock nudging deeper than ever before, almost a dull ache that you need, moving faster now, chasing that hit with every downstroke. You can feel your body flushing hot from the exertion, your thigh muscles burning slightly. Still, you don't waver, too addicted to that feeling of being so utterly filled, his cock dragging all the right places inside that switch off your brain and forget everything, every doubt, every uncertainty about yourself and your body, and just chase pleasure. 

“My god, you are beautiful,” he gasps, “I love to see you like this, so untamed, so free…” 

The compliments just drip like whispered jewels from his tongue as he guides your joined hands up to your breasts and grabs them with a force that fans the heavy, hot feeling in your pelvis, his knuckles snagging your sensitive buds. It makes you want to ride him forever, your clit throbbing each time you sink down, tugging temptingly but not enough to quite tip you over. The clawing sensation of being so close makes you drag your fingernails down his torso and clench around his cock. He stutters and looks at you hungrily, possessed, and then, before you know it, the room tilts as he rolls you back under him, again never leaving your body.

He withdraws and thrusts back into you with such force the wind is knocked out of your lungs, the pillow muffling the thud against the wall. Something in the atmosphere shifts; an urgency, like the heat that has been simmering, is now boiling over for both of you. He grabs your knees and encourages you to wrap your legs high around his torso, tilting your pelvis to a new angle, and when he moves, you cry loudly behind your lips, his body glancing at your clit.

He hushes you with a prideful chuckle. So you grab one of his hands and place it over your mouth, knowing you cannot trust yourself to stay quiet now. The hitch in his breath as you gag yourself with his palm is like poetry. 

Oh, Ben, you have no idea what I may want from you one day…

Your errant thoughts run to your darker fantasies, things you’ve never done before but are intrigued by, and in every one of them, it's him. Treating you just a little rough while you beg for more.

“Whatever you are thinking,” he gusts into your ear, moving faster now, “I hope it involves me.”

You nod, feeling his fingers flex across your face.

“Good, I can't wait for you to tell me,” he rasps lowly.

A bead of sweat forms along his hairline as the whole bed rocks now, the trapped pillow muffling the sound, his punishing pace pushing you ever closer to orgasm, pleasure spiking with each thrust. His hand grips your jaw; something about that pressure and the sweet words he murmurs is a contradiction of primal and tender. Sex before has always been one or the other for you; blended together, it's a potent elixir.

He takes you hard, without mercy, and you silently beg him with your eyes for just that; his cock feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as your cries are muffled by his tangy palm. The onslaught is perfect, and you are teetering on the edge just as he pleads roughly with you to come with him. So you let yourself go, your mind blanks out, your body bucking under his violently. Shuddering convulsions fanning out from your pussy, gripping tight around him and racing through every ounce of your being, muscles taut, eyes screwed shut, a scream trapped in your lungs. He stills above you, his hand releasing your mouth as that bead of sweat splashes down onto your nose. He curls around you, coming hard, huffing gulps of air and twitching almost violently with tiny aftershocks.

After a pause filled with panted breaths and strokes on overheated skin, he carefully withdraws and discards the condom.

“Merry Christmas,” you giggle into his neck as you collapse together.

He hauls you into his embrace, tucking you under his arm and kissing your dewy forehead. 

“Merry Christmas indeed,” his answer ragged, wrapped in a warm laugh.

And that is how you both drift off - exhausted, sated bodies entwined, damp skin pressed together.

___

A few hours later, you are awakened by overexcited nieces and nephews thundering down the stairs, eager to see what Santa has brought them. It takes a moment to recall what transpired overnight, a telltale delicious residual pang between your legs, followed by the realisation you are alone. Part of you relieved Benedict has snuck back to the safety of the den, but a larger part sad not to be waking up in his arms. Sighing, you roll over and spy a jaunty cartoon penguin Christmas card propped up on your bedside table. Upon opening, you beam, immediately recognising the beautiful, looped handwriting.

Y/n 

Thank you for the most magical night. Leaving this bed might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be on Christmas Day or, indeed, any other day of the year. But I don't want your father to be angry with me. I have a lifetime to disappoint him… if you will let me. 

I can't wait to see you downstairs.

Merry Christmas,

B xx

P.S. I may have just booked a hotel for the rest of our stay. I think we deserve some privacy ;)

You giggle, elated; the exciting prospect of nights in a hotel and the pledge of a lifetime ahead makes your stomach leap—this could be the start of something. You momentarily clutch the card to your chest, revelling in your joy, before burying it into your book for safekeeping and going to take a shower.

When you descend the stairs, out of the picture window, you see most of the family gathered on the street with the kids circling on their new bikes. But as you round into the living room, a sight melts your heart. Benedict sitting cross-legged on the floor with Sofia, a novelty Santa hat perched on his head, surrounded by shreds of wrapping paper, festive music playing in the background as he puts batteries in some loud plastic toy that will no doubt drive everyone up the wall for the rest of the day. 

She whoops with delight as the toy noisily springs to life and runs away to play with it. That's when he looks up and sees you watching from the doorway, his face lighting up. Slowly, he gets to his feet, and then you gasp as he wordlessly pulls you into his arms, brings your hand to his face and kisses your knuckles before starting to waltz.

“I didn't know you could dance like this, Mr Bridgerton,” you tease, impressed, allowing him to lead you around, dodging haphazard toys and boxes.

“Oh, there are so many, many things you have yet to learn about me, Ms y/l/n,” he proclaims alluringly as Frank Sinatra croons from the speaker.

♫ It's that time of year  When the world falls in love Every song you hear seems to say Merry Christmas May your New Year's dreams come true. ♫

“I hope you don't have plans for New Year's,” he whispers into your hair as he brings you to a halt. “I would very much like you to accompany me to Aubrey Hall. As my girlfriend,” he explains, grinning. “Not fake,” he adds drolly after a pause.

You laugh, feeling lightheaded and giddy, but just as you go to answer, you are both interrupted by a little hand tugging on his jeans. 

“Uncle Ben, you are my favouritist,” Sofia declares solemnly. “Will you visit every Christmas?”

Meeting your gaze, his expression contains multitudes. 

“It would be my greatest honour, Sofia,” he replies to her, even though his eyes never stray from yours.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Lights divider by @/saradika [x]

[1d1195]

Friends genuinely can be the worst, I literally lost all my close friendships last year in span of weeks and I'm officially friendless so cheers to that 🥂 I never understood when adults used to say that it gets harder to make friends as you grow up cause I used to be the kind of person to make friends anywhere I go, so I was like "how hard could it be"... IT'S HARD...Harder to even maintain them as time goes on ...I am 19 and I don't think I have ever had a best friend that was truly my best friend, yk what I mean, that I genuinely was really open with....so for now I have kind of left it...Maybe college could be a place but I have lost all hope 🥲

Maybe it's just because its the second month, but I agree the last 4 years went by too fast but they were also SO FREAKING EVENTFUL...it makes you think did all that happen in the same year....I really really hope, I genuinely get to experience everyday of this year, good or bad

Dude me too, when I read protection I was like aweee bodyguard love story...but yk i love angst like gimme all of it (with a happy ending ofc) i love scenes where if one of the MCs get hurt and the other is like panicking but simultaneously telling them how much they really mean....the brink of death scenarios add a little depth just sayin' ....but she was a fiesty one for sure...like she practices running and can out run them all...she is kind and has flowers all over her apartment but will send you glitter christmas cards...I love it

At this point, if im not watching you tube during my study breaks, I just pick new stories of yours to read, because physical books are so much of a commitment now although i miss them soo much! I might even peak at your "OLD STORIES"

🤭🤭🤭🤭

-🧸

P.S. my sunday was shitty too lol this week was not mine

I met my best friend in college. Felt the same way as you. I had a best friend in elementary/middle school. Definitely was alone throughout high school. All this to say, don't count it out yet. It's easy to lose hope, believe me. But you'll be glad you didn't. Easier said than done, I know. But she was worth the wait.

I am exhausted by time, so I hope it slows down, for SURE. I don't feel old but then I feel like I'm running out of time (very Hamilton of me). I don't know. It makes me sad sometimes. I like your philosophy, I hope I experience all the year has to offer.

I loved writing Protection so I'm glad you enjoyed it so much! 💕 That's so sweet 😭 Physical books ARE a commitment. I have to admit, I think I am too old for all the YouTube hype. I just missed the boat I think. The good news is I waste my time scrolling through TikTok for hours on end when I'm not writing or reading. I should do more math though is what I should do--keep my skills sharp 😅

So sorry to hear about your weekend. Glad you get a fresh start on a new week!

xoxo

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

HomeTown Part 2

Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Summary: You and Sebastian go visit your family for Christmas and share a big announcement but Sebastian has an announcement of his own.

Warnings: Fluff?

Part 1

You followed behind Sebastian in the airport as he dragged you to the end of the gate like you had done a little under a month ago. It was the day after new year's and you were back in your hometown. You spent Christmas day and new year's with his mom but still wanted to have a Christmas celebration with your family. "Babe!! Slow down!" You wined as he walked faster. You found this amusing. In the week you had stayed before he got close with your oldest niece and your oldest two nephews, converting both boys to team cap. Jon said he'd bring them when he came to pick you up because he found this just as sweet as you did.

"But. I want to see them!" He pouted causing you to laugh.

"I know but they ain't going no where." You said walking beside him. "See they are right there." You pointed at the three teenagers running over to you their dad/uncle standing filming the reunion.

"Auntie y/n! Seb!" They said giving Sebastian a gig before you.

"You stole my niece and nephews!" You pout at Sebastian who just laughed.

"Don't worry Auntie y/n your still our favorite." Samantha reassured. You smiled shaking you head.

"Hey! When will I get a dang hug!" Jon shouted from where he was standing a pout evident on his face. Your ran ahead of your boyfriend and the kids to give your brother a hug.

"Happy New Year Bro." You said laughing as you pulled out to go to luggage claim.

"Happy New Year Sis." He smiled at you wrapping an arm around you while his kids and nephew began to talk Sebastian's ear off about what happened since they last saw him. "So Colleen said your might have big news come on tell your favorite brother!" He said.

"Goddammit Colleen." You mumbled. "We don't have big news." You lied as you made it to the luggage claim. Sebastian pulled both bags off passing yours to you.

"Oh.." Jon said.

You guys made it to the car and began the drive to town. "Sebastian how's filming falcon and the winter soldier?" Jon asked keeping his eyes on the road.

"It's going good!" He said. You leaned on his shoulder.

"Any spoilers you can tell us?" Grayson asked looking back from the front seat where he sat.

"You have to wait till the show comes out." Sebastian said.

"Come on, please?" Samantha begged.

"No."

Samantha rolled her eyes leaning back in her seat pouting.

"Why do you want to know spoilers anyway?" Jon asked the three teens.

"So we can sell that information to the people at our school. We're already popular because our aunt is Y/n L/n but being able to tell them things about Falcon and the Winter soldier would bump up our street cred." Jaxon said proudly.

"Your using us for street cred?" You asked.

"Yeah!" Grayson told you sitting back in his seat properly

"They can't use me for street cred I'm not officially part of the family." Sebastian smirked at you.

"A photo of them bombarding you with questions went viral." Jon reminded him.

"Oh yeah." Sebastian said laughing a bit.

"Did you guys bring presents?" Samantha asked.

"Yes but you have to wait till tomorrow." You said giving her a pointed look.

"Please?" The three teens said giving you puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah come on why can we give them the presents today?" Sebastian asked. He knew why.

"You know why babe." You rolled your eyes. You had a big surprise for your family, and your nieces and nephews were gonna help you pull off telling the adults. But of course you got them normal presents as well.

"You guys hiding something?" Jon asked you raising an eyebrow at you through the rearview mirror.

"No." You laughed as Jon pulled into your parents drive way. You saw your nieces and nephews playing with different toys they had probably gotten for Christmas. "Let's see if they prefer you over me as well." You joked to Sebastian as you got out. Your nieces and nephews walk toward the pair of you besides Griffin and Oliver.

"Auntie y/n!" Griffin exclaimed hugging your leg, Oliver hugging the other while your slightly older nieces and nephews just walked over normally and gave you hugs.

"See im their favorite." You referred to your youngest nephews as you picked them both up setting them on opposite hips you stuck your tongue out at Sebastian smirking.

"Good job Dragoste."

"What does that mean?" Griffin asked him.

"It means love." Sebastian said.

"Dragoste! Cool!" Griffin giggled smiling at him.

"Why do say dragster and not love?" Oliver asked him as you guy went to the trunk of the car.

"Because if I just called your aunt love. It wouldn't be as special." Sebastian smiled at them before he pulled the suitcases out of the car because your hands were occupied.

"Cool! Dragoste I like it!" Oliver declared. You shook your head a loving smile on your face.

"Why don't you two of play?" You asked them setting them back down on the ground. They nodded running off to where Benji was playing with a remote control monster truck. "I can't believe we're gonna have one of those in nine months." You whispered placing a kiss to your boyfriends lips.

"Can't we tell them today?" Sebastian asked you. That's right you're pregnant! You guys already told his mom and step dad on Christmas. You had found out on Christmas Eve.

"No we can't." You said taking your bag from him and going to the porch where Colleen was excitedly standing on the porch waiting to know if you were pregnant.

"Are you having a baby?" She asked you smiling wide.

"No." You faked being sad to hope she'd not bring it up any more.

"Oh.. Sorry." She frowned hugging you.

"It's all good." You assured trying to hide the amusement on your face. Sebastian on the other hand didn't even try he just smiled.

"Don't worry it took me and Jon a little to get pregnant." She said pulling out of the hug.

"When you did get pregnant you had twins. I don't think we're ready for twins." You joked as the three of you began to walk inside.

"I think we could handle two." Sebastian spoke up. You rolled your eyes smiling.

"You could get your own Jax and Sam." Colleen said.

"Colleen... I used to baby sit them you do remember all the trouble they caused? Especially if you threw Grayson in the mix I don't think I'm ready for that." You said before you entered the living room deciding to pause the conversation since the rest of your family was waiting there.

"Hey mom!" You hugged her, "wassup dad." You said after you pulled out of the hug with your mom hugging him next. You mom brought Sebastian into a hug while you hugged your dad. After you hugged your parent you ran over and jumped on your three brother who you had yet to greet. "Hi!" You smiled at them sweetly before they pushed you on the floor.

"You okay dragoste?" Sebastian asked helping you up giving your brothers a playful glare.

"I've had worse. Now where the baby?" You asked Justin.

"You haven't even let us say hi yet and your already asking about Nora." Justin said rolling his eyes.

"Justin she's done this every year since she was eighteen why are you surprised.

"She's in the playpen in your room cause it was the quietest place to put her." Liz answered walking into the living room, Oliver on her hip eating fruit snacks.

"Okay!" You and Sebastian said the same time before you guys made your way up stairs hearing your family laugh.

"We're gonna have one of these soon." Sebastian said when the two of you made it to your room looking in the play pen where a peacefully looking baby slept.

"Yea..."

---

It was the next morning, you sat in the living room presents under the tree that your mom kept up just for this late Christmas celebration. You brothers and their families weren't here just yet so you and Sebastian were talking with your mom and dad.

"Jax and Sammy have been telling us all about your roll with marvel." Your dad told him smiling.

"Really?"

"They are big fans of your character Barney." Your mom said. You began cackling.

"Barney barnes." You teased him.

"I-its bucky... Barnes." Sebastian corrected politely.

"Where's the presents!" You hear Griffin exclaim dashing into the living room, Levi and Jasper close behind him. Grayson walking in grumbling about how it was to early.

"They're under the tree. Find the ones with your names it your each have two." You directed them, the younger three boys of the four all dashed to the tree looking at each of the presents even though Griffin couldn't read.

"Grayson help Griffin find his." Mike said before he came and sat down in between you and Sebastian pushing you two apart. "Hi, did you guys get me any presents?" He asked as his wife walked in smiling at her sons.

"Yeah go join them finding them." Sebastian said. Griffin moved to the coffee table with his two presents.

"Okay one of those is from me one of those is from Seb."

Griffin smiled wide ripping open the present Sebastian picked out for him. It was a kid's remote control car.

"Cool!" Griffin exclaimed. Levi was the next to settle down with his presents he opened the one you picked out, finding a new football since Levi played Football. (american)

"Cool! Thanks!"

Griffin ripped open the one you picked out, revealing a Tigger stuffed animal. Jasper and Grayson sat down next to their younger brothers before griffin ran over to his mom begging her to open the car. Jasper opened his first present getting a nerf gun from Sebastian.

"Awesome! Thank you Seb!" Jasper said a big smile on his face.

"Told you he'd love it." Sebastian said to you.

"I said his parents wouldn't not that he wouldn't." You rolled your eyes at him.

Grayson opened his first present the one from Sebastian to see a empty box. "Uh... Thank you?" Grayson said looking at him confused.

"Did you really wrap a empty box! I thought you were joking!" You said reaching over Mike to smack Sebastian.

"Sorry!" Sebastian laughed. "Don't worry your actual present should be near the back of the tree." He told your nephew who was frowning.

Levi wrapped the present from Sebastian open it also revealed a nerf gun. "Dude! Cool! Come on Jasp! Nerf gun battle!"

"Wait I have one more." Jasper said unwrapping the present from you, it was the next book in the series he was reading. "Thank you!" He said before running off with Levi their nerf guns in tow toward the Mitch to probably get scissors to open it with.

Mike got up from his seat to "help Grayson find his present" he actually went to find his own presents. Grayson went back to where his other present was sat with his actual present from Sebastian. He opened it again revealing a nerf gun. Sebastian was setting up a nerf war for all your older nieces and nephews which is why Griffin didn't get one.

"Oh cool! Thank you!" Grayson said before opening the one from you, which was a x-men comic book he wanted. "This was the one I wanted! Thanks Auntie Y/n!" He said getting up to hug you. You smiled hugging him as mike sat back down next to you his two presents in his hands. These were both from you because Sebastian didn't know what to get your brothers.

Grayson found himself a seat next to your mom and dad opening his comic. You watched as your brother opened his present to get a gag gift, it was a tradition you and your siblings each had to give each other the most random or useless thing you could find at the dollar store since this started when you were 6 and only had a dollar.

"Wings? Really?" You nodded before Kristina passed you a box.

"Ooh my gag gift!" You said ripping it opened to reveal a good job cone. "Oh thanks." You laughed. Sebastian looked at it confused.

"What's the point of these gifts?" Sebastian asked.

"There is none it's a tradition, Y/n started when she was five. There's only two rules no one can help you pick the present out and it has to come from Dollar tree." Kristina explained.

"To avoid inappropriate gifts being opened while the kids are around." Mike added.

"Okay if I had known what was in that box I wouldn't have opened it!" You said.

"Matt put don't open around the kids! GAG gift!!" Mike said.

"Yeah in tiny ass letters!" You said. Sebastian looked at you guys confused.

"Whatever." Mike said opening the next gift. "Thank you." He said giving you a really look holding up the T-Shirt that said "I have a badass baby sister yes she got me this shirt."

"You're most welcome!" You said smiling at him. Kristina rolled her eyes at you two going to grab her own presents you got her.

----

Soon the rest of your brothers and their families were there, the older kids were having a nerf gun battle outside with Sebastian since he obviously bought himself a nerf gun too. The younger kids were inside playing with the other toys they had got. Your brothers were wearing the matching fairy wings you got them as their gag gift. While their wives and you were talking. You had Nora on your lap.

Sebastian walked in a nerf bullet stuck to the center of his forehead. "Babe you have something on your forehead." You said laughing.

"They teamed up on me." He grumbled pulling it off before taking a seat next to you and stealing Nora from your lap. "Can we do it now?" He whispered to you.

"Yeah go wrangle the big kids." You said taking Nora. "If you excuse us we have a surprise that the kids are going to help us pull off.. So get your butts outside to wait for us." You said to the adults in the room. They rolled their eyes walking out with Sebastian.

"Okay kiddies! Come on!" You said the little kids looked at you. "I'll give you guys lollipops." The kids jumped up running up the stairs. "Slow down! Your parents will kill me if you fall down the stairs." You said.

Once up stairs you got upstairs you got Griffin, Oliver, and Nora in their shirts while Leo got into his on his own. Sebastian and the older kids barreled into the bedroom after.

"What are we doing?" Samantha asked.

"You guys are going to have a new cousin! And if you get these shirts on you'll help us tell your parents and Granny and pap." Sebastian explained.

"Cool!!" Hazel squealed. Your nieces and nephews celebrated a bit and gave you hugs before you sent them each to a different room upstairs to change while Sebastian watched the ones already you got into your shirt that said right over the belly where your baby was: GrandBaby #14. Your nieces and nephews had shirts that say Grandbaby #1-13. You made it t your room and everyone was ready.

"Okay line up in number order. Griff stand right next to Sebastian when we get out side. Oliver stand next to Griff and so forth." You explained. Sebastian would be holding Nora and standing next to you.

You all made it outside and still in line.

"What?" Your dad asked.

"Read the shirts!" Violet exclaimed.

"Grandbaby... 14?!" Colleen looked at your shirt squealing.

"No way!" Elizabeth said.

"What? 14 kids? There's only 13.." Justin said not getting it.

"Your pregnant?" Your mom asked you.

"Yep!" You and Sebastian said at the same time.

"You told my kids before you told me? I thought I was your favorite?" Justin said mocking offense.

"Your a blabbermouth if we told you everyone would've known." You said as your mom come over hugging you then hugging Sebastian as the kids ran off to play. Your family finished giving you both hugs. Sebastian handed Nora over to Mike before he reached in his pocket. You were looking away at Hazel and Violet.

"Y/n look." Kristina said. You looked at Sebastian gasping as you saw he was on one knee.

"Y/n.. Will you marry me?" He asked. You stared hands over your mouth in disbelief. "Your scaring me." He whispered.

"Yes! Yes! I'll marry you!" You exclaimed tackling him into a hug. Your mom and dad smiled softly at you two while your brothers, tried to be supportive but your their baby sister they won't see you anyway. Your nieces and nephews didn't even notice. You stayed on the ground hugging for what seemed like forever before you pulled apart and he put the ring on your finger. "I love it!" You kissed him before a chorus of "Ew!" Was heard alerting you and Sebastian of your nieces and nephews.

"We're getting married!" Sebastian said smiling, the kids gasped hugging the two of you. their parents laughing took a photo of it.

"Can I be the ring bearer?" Leo asked smiling.

"I want to be the flower girl!" Hazel said as they all pulled away from the hug to let you two stand up. All four of your sister inlaws quickly pulled into a hug squealing, Justin was quick to give Sebastian a hug and welcome him to the family slowly followed by Micheal and your dad, Matthew and Jon stood by your mom who was waiting to hug you. The two men stared at Sebastian with the same look they had when you started dating or when your prom date came to pick you up.

"Dad? Why are you staring at Sebastian like that?" Luna asked Matt.

"This again you two?" Your mom asked them as the hug from your sister in laws was pulled out of and the three men gave who had hugged Sebastian each gave you one followed by you mom while your other two brothers kept glaring at Sebastian.

"Did I do something wrong?" Sebastian asked.

"They're being babies." You said walking over to them sighing. "It's not gonna work this time. He isn't a jerk like him." You said quietly to them, only the two men know what your talking about and that's how you've always wanted it. Now if your wondering what that is. It's about an ex who those two are the only ones who even know about him. It had been getting serious but you ended up getting in a fight and he tried to manipulate by proposing to you (this happened just before you moved out so you were 18) while those two were walking by and ended up "talking" to the guy.

*like who?" Justin asked.

"No one." Jon said hugging you before going over to Sebastian. "Welcome to the family man!" He said. Matt begrudgingly walked over to Sebastian.

"I like you and all but just because your my sister's fiancee I will still kick you ass... In a nerf gun war." Matt changed demeanors as the older kids took that as sign to get their nerf guns from the yard and begin the war again. "Welcome to the family Seabass."

"Ow! Come on!" Sebastian ran off as they began shooting at him.

"Watch the face! I want my fiancee to have both eyes at my wedding!" You exclaimed laughing.

"Glad you care!" Sebastian whined running around with the toddlers while the teens and pre-teens tried to shoot him.

"Don't shoots the little kids or your all grounded!" Matt warned as you leaned your head on your moms shoulder sighing.

What a late Christmas you had. A baby and your getting married.

A/n: I'm a tiny bit in love with this large family... Probably since I want a extended family like this but whatever Merry Christmas if you celebrate Christmas which since you read a Christmas themed story you probably do if not happy holidays!

[iaminlovewithtrr]

Christmas with a stranger

This is my submission for 'gift of cheer' by @cordonianroyalty and @texaskitten30. This is the fluff one shot requested by @anjanettaexcordonia.

Characters belong to pixelberry

Pairings:LiamxRiley

A/N: this is the first fic I have ever written, so i apologize for any mistakes. Criticism is openly accepted, negative or otherwise. Feel free to say anything!

Tags: @texaskitten30 @cordonianroyalty

@kat-tia801 @eadanga @xxrainbow-princessxx @knightthunderis @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @stuti-singh @queenrileyrose @bbrandy2002 @twinkleallnight @bebepac @ladyrileyrussel @hopelessromanticsposts @dcbbw

Summary: Two strangers spend Christmas day with which each other, which changes the rest of their lives.....

Song inspiration: All I want for Christmas is you

Word count:2683

I don't want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

Don't care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

I don't need to hang my stocking

There upon the fireplace

Santa Claus won't make me happy

With a toy on Christmas Day

I just want you for my own

It was the morning of Christmas, and Riley was overly excited. She always waited for this time of the year, especially Christmas. Nothing is more enjoyable than sipping cider in the presence of her beloved and enjoying the Christmas meal, she always thoughts. Orphaned at 4 ,she didn't had a blood family to celebrate with , but was blessed with a great deal of foster family and friends. Every year, during Christmas, as a sort of tribute, she spends the entire day celebrating with the children of her previous foster care. Watching those kids playing merrily reminded her of her own good days in the past.

She quickly ate her breakfast and made her way out of her NY apartment, whistling and softly humming to the tune of All I want for Christmas is you, her favorite song.

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you

Baby....

She was so engrossed in her little singing gig that she barely registered the stranger coming towards her, and crashed right into his broad chest, spilling her reticule's content on the sidewalk.

"Oof"she yelped, rubbing her forhead.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Let me help with those! " the stranger apologized.

Riley and the stranger kneeled down at the same moment to collect her scattered belonging, and for the first time the two glanced into each others eyes. Ocean blue eyes locking onto dark ones. Damn... Those eyes.. Riley swallowed.

"Ahem" she softy cleared her thought, quickly collected her belongings, and stood up.

"Sorry for that. Should've watched my steps. " then she quickly disappeared into the crowd, not noticing the stranger eyes on her from behind.

Riley finally arrived at the foster care. Loving hearts. A bit strange name, but filling her chest with warmth nonetheless. She rummaged through her reticule for her Digital key card, but it was not there.

"Uh...?"she muttered. "Where the hell is my keycard? "

After a few moment of searching she gave up. "Im not going to get in there without my key card...."

"Excuse me Miss.... But I belive this is yours. " a voice behind her startled her.

Riley turned around and found herself staring at the pair of those same dark eyes she encountered earlier. I'd recognise those eyes anywhere, even though I had stared at his eyes for less than 5 seconds. The (cute) guy i bumped with!

"Ahem" the stranger let out a exaggerated cough and riley realised that she has been staring at his face for a solid 10 seconds.

"Right.. Ahem... Sorry... I mean... Thank you for returning this. You totally saved my ass--, i mean my...my...job". Way to make a fool of yourself Riley.

The stranger laughed quitly. "Well then I am glad I could save your job. But I should get going."

Just as he turned, a little voice in the back of her head called out to her, and instinctively she reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Er... Sir... I know this is extremly forward of me... But if you would be kind enough to spend the day with volunteering at the orphanage I work at? We are kinda short-staffed tonight, and there aren't much volunteers. Those children at the orphanage will be quite happy to see a new face. You could spend the with them. And me. If you are free, that is?

Crap. Crap. Crap. This i really asked a random hot stranger to volunteer?! Snap the hell out of it Riley!

Plz say yes. Plz say yes. The little voice inside her screamed.

To her surprise, he gave her a smile. "Id be happy to. I don't have any special plans for today. Btw. "

He smiled, and stuck out her hand to shake hers.

"Liam Rys"

"Riley Brooks". She said she she shook his hand. A familiar electric tinge sparked through her veins as she held his hand. His hand impossibly smooth underneath her. Woah! Are guys even supposed to have this soft hands? I wonder what kind of moisturiser he uses....

"Miss Brooks --"

"Call me Riley. "

"Well ahem, Riley.. it is rather cold outside. What say we make it inside? "

"Oh right."

She quickly swiped her keycard and stepped inside, sighing contentedly as the warm air from the heaters enveloped her. She melted a little inside as she felt Liam's warm body alongside her. Brushing this aside, she focused her attention on the scenario in front of her. Numerous gift boxes piled beneath the Christmas tree... Children merrily running and there... Volunteers mingling with each other and the children... The aroma of the food... And the Christmas songs softly playing in the background. A wide smile played on her lips.

While Riley was busy observing the surroundings, Liam found his sight stuck on the beautiful women he had known for not more than 15 minutes. She was beautiful, in a way that the noble ladies back at home in Cordonia arn't. And seeing her here in here element, smiling widely without giving a damn about public decorum or whatsoever, he found himself attracted to her. And without a second thought, he agreed to volunteer. We'll see how the day goes...

Liam cleared his throat, claiming her attention. "So what needs to be done? "

"As you can see this is a orphanage, so the children here dont have any families to celebrate the holidays with. So each year, myself and many other gather here to celebrate the celebrate with them. Thats what we have to do. Mingle with the children, play with them... And make them feel loved. "

"Sure. I can definately do that. I actually volunteered too at orphanages back home."

"If I may ask, Where are you from?

Liam immediately stiffened at the question. When he asked his father for a quiet getaway before the beginning of the social season, meeting Riley was not on the itinerary. And the fact that he was leaving Tommorow didnt helped either. The last thing he wanted to do was to lie with her, but he wasn't going to destroy these good moments he had with her by revealing that he was the crown prince of cordonia.

"I'm actually from one of the small islands surrounding Greece. "

Before she could open her mouth to ask more, Liam immediately turned away to play with one of the children.

The day went on quite peacefully and quite enjoyable for Liam. Holidays back home were anything besides spending with families. It was all about press conferences and photo ops and disguised motives hidden away in gifts. But here I was a lot more different, the sight of children playfully jostling each other without giving a damn made him smile, as that was the part of childhood he missed.

He suddenly felt a small hand on his shoulder and his pulse quickened at the feel of skin over his clothes. Behind her was Riley, holding a eggnog mug in her hands.

"Not to ruin your volunteering gig, but I got you something. "She said as she handed him the mug. Their fingers brushed, and lingered for just a moment longer.

"Ahem. Thank you. " Liam blushed, his ears turning pink.

Riley chucked softly at his antics. He is already so cute, and looks extra cute while he blushes.

Night came quickly. After winding up all the activities for the day including the gift exchanging and christmas dinner, all the children were put to bed and the volunteers were bidding their goodbyes. Only the foster care staff plus liam was left behind.

Riley glanced around. All the staff were mingling on the rooftop, with only her and Liam left in the main hall.

"Hey.... " she softly asked Liam, who was lounging in a chair beside her.

"Yeah? "

"Will you accompany me for a little walk around the times square? I just wanna clear my head a bit. " And hopefully spend some time with you...

He smiled. "Sure! Just let me get my coats. "

The pair walker out of the building and into the cold, brisk night. Celebrations were in full swing outside. Its called the city who never sleeps for Nothing.

Outside was really cold, and with the softly falling snow Riley barely suppressed the shiver that ran up het spine. Suddenly she felt strong arms around her shoulders and a moment later a coat was wrapped around them.

"I would be a terrible gentleman if a let a beautiful lady like you freeze to death. "

"Beautiful, huh? " she teased.

He blushed. That blush.

They both arrived at the square, staring at the enormous Christmas tree situated in the very middle. The glow of the lights and mini bulbs bathing them both in a gentle bluish light.

"Its really beautiful, isnt it? Riley asked. Just as she turned her head towards him liam's eyes quickly found their ways towards the decoration. Was he really admiring me than the beautiful decoration in front of him? Was it possible that he was feeling the same fluttering in his heart that she felt whenever they interacted? No, it can't be. I am reading onto this too much. We are strangers. Strangers.

"Indeed it is. " Liam quitly whispered, hiding the blush in his cheeks. Crap, she caught him staring at her. I hope she doesnt think i am creep or something. To Liam even the most beautiful decorations paled in front of her, she was more beautiful than any sights he had laid his eyes on. Don't get too attached, Liam. Its temporary. You are going to leave tomorrow. There can nothing be between you and her. You have a duty back home. This is just a little escape from reality. They are strangers. Strangers.

Just then the local band striked up a a waltz. All around them peoples paired up, with Riley watching the couples with a hopeful gleam in her eyes... which didnt went unnoticed by Liam. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Liam bowed a little in front of her, and held out his hand, his other arm draped around his back. "May I have this dance? "

She smiled as she put her hand into his, her pulse quickning, "It would be my pleasure. "

She awkwardly bowed, earning a chuckle from Liam as he sweeped her in his arms, her one hand on his shoulder, his on her waist, their free hand twined together. They elegantly twirled together on the makeswift dance floor, stepping in time to each rhythm. As they glided together, liam couldnt help but gaze down at her angelic face, illuminated by the surroundings. His gaze strayed to her lips just as Riley glanced at him, they met each other halfway as their lips come together in a magnetic kiss. Time seemed to stopped when his lips met hers, and the flutter in their chest intensified. Riley's finger gently curled in his coat as liam tangled his hands in her soft brown curls. She smelled like jasmine, a scent that liam is all too familiar with. Their hands tighten around each other, almost desperately, refusing to let go, their lips moving against each other in perfect harmony. Liam tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest, and Riley softly sighed as she breathed in the scent of him.

For that moment it was only the two of them in the entire world, all the surroundings fading into nothing. Their little bubble of heaven was broken as the pair heard the the sound of clapping and soft cheering. Flustered, Liam grasped her hand and led both of them out of the dance floor and into the streets, grinning all the way.

The two of them found themselves at the threshold of a quint restaurant, and they both collapsed onto the stairs, still holding each other while wearing goofy smiles.

"So... That was.... Something else.. " Riley chuckled.

"Indeed it was. " Liam snickered.

As he glanced down at the lady in his arms, Liam felt a sudden tinge of guilt in his chest. I still haven't told her who I am. I have to tell her.

After her laughter had subsided, Liam gently took her shoulders in his hands and looked square in her eyes. "Riley, can I have a word with you? "

"Yeah... What happened? "

"I haven't told you where I am from, or what I am doing alone in a unknown city without my family. The truth is I am the Crown Prince of a small country called Cordonia. "

Riley stared at him, then burst into laughter. "Haha, Liam, nice joke. If you are a crown prince then i'm Kate Middleton." She stopped laughing when she saw the look on his face. "Oh, you are serious?"

Liam nodded. "Of course. I have no reason to lie to you. I just wanted to let you know that....that...." He struggled to move forward. "That i'll be leaving for Cordonia Tommorow morning. My social season will commence once I get back. I have to choose a bride from all the noble ladies presented to me as suitors. "

Her face fell. "You... You are really going back... I just thought we.... " She trailed off.

"I knew Riley, and I am sorry that I didn't told you sooner. I understand if you are mad--"

"Of course im not mad Liam. You did what you thought was the best. You just wanted a nice time without wandering about your duties."

"I... I wished we had more time together Riley." He whispered.

"Then lets make the most of it. We just have this night tonight, Liam. And I want to make it count. For just this one night let's just be Riley and Liam, two peoples without any obligations.

Riley pointed to the mistletoe over their head, then leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He immediately responded, his hand cupping the side of her neck tenderly as she ran her hair through his dark hair. They pulled apart, staring into each others eyes, then their lips came together again, more passionately this time.

"Merry Christmas, Riley."

"Merry Christmas, Liam."

The night was spend together in Liam's suite, tangled in the sheets and in each other's arms.

************

The next morning

Liam woke up in his room.... Alone. He glanced around, none of Riley's belongings were in sight. A single note was on the coffee table beside the bed.

Liam,

I want you to know that the short time I have spend with you more to me than I could describe. You gave me the one thing I wanted most for Christmas...Family. I'm grateful for that. I'm sorry that I had to convey this to you by a letter, but i thought it would be better for both of us. Perhaps we will meet again.

Riley

Liam reached and wiped the lone tear that has escaped on his cheek. "I'm grateful for our time together too, Riley.

**********

Cordonia

It was the evening of the masquerade ball in the palace. Liam was dressed in his usual black regalia with a matching ornate mask. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts managed to make their way back to Riley. Be a good prince, Liam. She's gone.

Liam stood in the huge elegant ballroom, a queue of noble ladies in front of him. Each lady he encountered, whether it was the poodle loving lady Penelope, the diplomat's daughter Kiara, or his best friend Olivia, made him realize that none of them were her.

The next lady approached, who was adorned in a white angel costume, with a literal halo above her head, her blue eyes peeking out of the glittering mask. Why are those eyes familiar...

"Hello..." Liam greeted her politely. "I don't believe we have met... Have we?"

The women smiled, then reached behind the back of her head to loosen the mask strings, Liam caught a glimpse of a familiar face as she removed her mask.

"Riley..."

[strongsassysexysloane]

Eleventh Day of Twelve - A Tired but Treasured Day

A/N - Look at that! We are second from the end! Thank you to all the comments and love! Really appreciate it, it's been a long week!

. . . .

Read previous drabbles below.

. . . .

You walked into the office clinging to your cup of coffee. It felt like you were just here and you were, only five hours ago. This time however it was your own doing. You'd found a tiny shred of evidence to go on and had to follow it before the trail went cold. Then it lead to Gibbs and Nick finding the killer in a warehouse in town and bringing him in at just after 0100. You didn't finish interrogating until 0200 and it was now 0730. Coffee, coffee needed to be pumped into you to wake up this morning and a constant flow throughout the day would be required.

To your delight there was a hot cup sitting on your desk as you walked into the bullpen. No note so you assumed this time it wasn't from your gift giver. Day 11 and no one had spilled the beans or gone looking at the cameras like they wanted to on day one.

"Gibbs dropped it off about five minutes ago before he went down to get a report from Kasie who wasn't pleased to be called in so early." Ellie explained while leaning back in her chair and sipping her coffee. "He brought one for all of us."

"Christmas miracles do happen." Nick grinned, dropping his small cup in the trash. "Done."

"It's not a race. You just slugged all your energy for the next three hours."

"Oh please, I've stayed up later and come to work more tired before. Remember the November incident." He waved off.

"I still feel hungover from it." Ellie grumbled, scrunching her nose at the memory of Tequila.

"Please don't remind me." Tim groaned. "Plus I'm not allowed anymore Tequila, Delilah's orders."

"She may be on to something." You ran your hand through your hair, smirking at the banter. Turning on your computer for the day, you saw the next gift hanging from your desk lamp. It was beautiful, a little teddy bear carved out of marble with a shimmering purple and green crown sitting on its head.

"Day 11, the gift giver strikes again." You rolled your eyes at Nick's words while holding the Christmas decoration in your hand, running your thumb over the intricate detail.

It was sweet, a cute addition to your small Christmas tree at home. You'd put it up on December one. That was your tradition and some years it didn't seem worth it but you made the effort. Being alone on Christmas sucked, there was no way around it but this year you were making an effort to not sulk about it. The secret gift giver certainly lifted the spirit as well.

Your tree wasn't over the top but a nice addition to your home. This would fit perfectly front and centre and you made sure of it.

The day was relatively easy. The office banter keeping the spirits going with a good supply of caffeine. It was really just a lot of paper work and then you were set free around mid afternoon to try and have that weekend off. This time Vance made sure the team wouldn't be called in. There were other agents to take the call after all.

You'd missed Jack most of the day and didn't want to interrupt her as she was head deep in evals for the end of year. Instead you decided to shoot her a text when you got home.

- Just wanted to say have a good weekend. Didn't want to interrupt your head mojo.

You knew she'd get a kick out of it and you weren't mistaken.

- Head mojo hey? Smarty in the evening just like you said. Missed you today, didn't realise how many evals I still had to do before I went on my trip. Now I'm back logged and still at work.

It was just hitting 1830 which was a late one for Jack on a Friday. She was always hurrying along at the end of the week to make sure by the time 1700 hit she was out the door.

- I hope you are either finishing for the evening or planning on having dinner while you work. It's getting late, Jack.

- No need to worry about little old me. I need to get these done, I'll grab a bite later. Enjoy your night.

An idea popped to mind, you grabbed your coat and car keys and headed back out into the snowfall with your blue scarf still wrapped around your neck.

Thankfully, you weren't too far from the Navy yard and the Diner was just a five minute detour on the route. You called ahead so the food was ready when you got there and still warm when you knocked on her door.

"Come in, y/n."

You huffed, opening the door. "Now how could you possibly know it was me?"

Jack was sitting on her couch, shoes off, legs crossed and glasses tugging her hair back and sitting on her head. "You didn't reply, you always reply. And you care too much." She got up, placing her laptop on the coffee table and walking up to you.

Those were a lot of compliments you weren't entirely prepared for. You thought Jack was the one that cared a lot, but never too much. "I think I care just the right amount but I can eat this all by myself if you'd prefer?" You smirked, pretending to walk back out but Jack caught your arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I lo-ike that you care so much." She ran her hand up and down your arm a few times before dropping it away. Her warm comforting smile turned into a cute frown. "And don't you dare walk out on me now that youve made all this effort to come here." She took a deep breath in. "Is that two cheeseburgers and fries?"

The frown and the way her nose twitched at the smell was completely adorable. "With a side of gravy. Wasn't sure if you liked it on your fries or not." You shrugged, missing the soft and loving look Jack gave, you walked past her and sat at one end of the couch, unpacking the bag of food. "Come, sit." You urged, patting the spot beside you as she just stood there and watched.

With a soft smile curving her lips, she came around after a beat and sat exactly where you said to. She took the small pot of gravy and poured it over her fries before pouring the rest over yours. "Thank you."

You bumped her shoulder lightly. "Anytime. Can't have Jack Sloane Hangry and loose in DC." That got you a slap on the knee but it was worth it as her hand soothed the spot she hit and stayed there for a while until it was time to eat.

"Didn't mean to ruin your Friday night plans either." She took a huge bite of the burger.

Between bites you managed an answer, "You mean my big watching The Holiday movie while eating a cup of noodles or the one where I go to sleep at 7pm because im living on about four hours sleep right now."

Skipping over how tired you were she jumped at the mention of the movie. "That's my favourite Christmas movie! It's got the best of both worlds! The sun of LA and the cold winter wonderland of the UK. God, I haven't watched that in years! My mum and I went to the movies to watch it and then every Christmas after we'd watch it together, some people had Love Actually, we had The Holiday. Guess I stopped watching when mum passed." She ate a few more fries. "Wow, Jack, way to ruin the good mood. Sorry. Got lost for a moment there."

You liked it when she rambled. She always would say so many interesting things and you just loved to hear her voice. You prayed the day never came when you wouldn't hear it anymore. "Don't apologize-" You held up your hand to stop her from butting in. "- And, no it's not because of Gibbs silly rule. I enjoy hearing about your past about things you love or did. The Holiday is a sweet movie, my must watch in December along with The Grinch, Home Alone and many more. I try my best to keep the holiday spirits up when I'm by myself for them which has been the last many."

"I enjoy hearing you talk too." She smiled, taking a massive bite of her burger and filling up her cheeks.

There was no silence after that. The evals were put to the side and you talked for what seemed like hours. Talking about childhood Christmas' and silly stories to cringe worthy dating moments over this time of year. It wasn't until you couldn't keep your mouth shut from yawning that you said good night around 2300.

"Sorry you didn't get your evals done." You sing over the roof of your car as Jack unlocked her Mini.

"Don't be. I'm happy to come in tomorrow because tonight was fun!" Her genuine smile told you that she wasn't lying. You could read people pretty well and most times Jack Sloane was an enigma to you but right now you knew she was telling the truth.

"Good night, Jack."

She opened her car door before adding. "Enjoy your movie!"

You yawned with a laugh. "You're kidding right? I'm going to sleep, I'll watch it tomorrow now."

"Fair, good night y/n. Sweet Dreams!"

. . . .

Who doesn't want this to end? Me. But I also maybe, slightly want a break from writing every day. It's been fun but tiring. I've enjoyed it a lot though! I love this time of year, if only I wasn't working in retail.