#but i have to pack to go home for winter break lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpiastri · 5 months

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this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

1K notes · View notes

xxacademy · 1 month

Text

Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.

So here I am.

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.

"How'd it go," you asked between bites.

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨#throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

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blues824 · 5 months

Note

round 7 if i’m right (i’m being hit w a lot of thoughts ok guys 🙏)

silver with prompts 24, 25, 26, and 27?

You requested: New Year’s Countdown, NYE Party, Cuddling Next to the Fire, + Hot Chocolate for the cold

If you remember, we don’t know shit about Sebek’s siblings, so just watch out lol.

Silver

For Winter Break, you accepted the Diasomnia Crew’s invitation to go with them to the Briar Valley. They informed you to pack for the cold, as it was going to be snowing there. You heeded their words, and you brought your suitcase and backpack, and you even packed Grim’s bag even though he didn’t really need one.

You followed them through the mirror, with Silver explaining to you that you would be staying with him and Lilia in their cottage, where he grew up. You were super excited to see what it looked like and what your boyfriend’s childhood looked like as well. Lilia seemed excited to tell you the most embarrassing stories about his son, and Silver was not excited about that.

By the way, you were glad you brought extra layers because it was a whole other level of cold. Your breath was very apparent in front of you, and you were shivering. After bidding farewell to Malleus, who had to go back to the palace, you, Silver, Lilia, and Sebek all started heading towards the village.

Sebek’s parents were very excited to meet you, even though you weren’t with their son. They were surprised that he had a human friend, and you definitely snitched on him and said that he would often call you ‘human’ with a disgusted or a holier-than-thou tone. To say that his mother was displeased with this information would be an understatement, and she grabbed him by the ear and dragged him home. His father had to apologize for his wife and son, and welcomed you into Briar Valley.

The next part of your journey was to venture a bit into the forest to the cottage that Silver and Lilia called ‘home’. It wasn’t too far from the dentistry clinic geographically, but it felt like you were walking forever because it was freezing outside. Once the door was unlocked, Lilia used his magic to light up the fireplace, and he told his son to lead you to his room.

(Now, if you were confused by my grammar right there, I was too. Silver was ordered to lead you to Lilia’s room, as it was the larger bedroom and you both would be sleeping in the same room. Lilia took Silver’s room. Hope that makes sense).

Anyway, when you had settled in, you headed to the living room where the fireplace was. You could finally feel your fingers and toes, and you let out a huge sigh of relief. That’s when the old fae told you both that you would be heading to the Zigvolt’s house for the New Year’s celebration in a few days. You nodded your head and took the cup of hot tea your mans held out to you.

~~~~~~~~

Why did the Zigvolts have to be so nice?? Then you wouldn’t feel bad about skipping and you would have stayed inside the warmth of the cottage.

That was your thought as you walked in the cold to the Zigvolt residence. However, you remembered that you would be meeting his older siblings and learn the most embarrassing things about him. You needed this blackmail, and you were willing to go trudge through snow for another hour if that’s what it took.

Luckily for you, it took much less than that, as you shortly made it to the front door. You knocked, and you were met with Mrs. Zigvolt. She had a beautiful smile on her face as she welcomed you into her home, and she was followed by her older children. They had hair of different shades of green, eyes as well. You also saw her daughter-in-law as well

Silver greeted everyone, introducing you, and Sebek’s older brother punched him in the arm and congratulated him for getting with somebody as he wrapped an arm around his wife. You were just so happy to be inside from the cold, and Mrs. Zigvolt as well as Sebek’s older sister noticed that you were shivering, and they rushed to get you a blanket. They were not hearing your “I’m fine”’s or your “It’s totally okay”’s, and soon you found yourself under 3 different blankets.

You sat on the couch, ridding yourself of two layers because you were starting to melt, and you decided that to make up for the lack of warmth, you would cuddle with your boyfriend, who was very close to drifting off. However, you were locked in conversation with the older sister of the Zigvolt family. She was telling you about one of the faes she was talking to, asking you for advice, but if you were being honest, you were just lucky that Silver asked you out because you were nervous around him.

Eventually, Mr. Zigvolt called out to everyone that hot chocolate was ready, and you posted a picture of yours and Silver’s mugs on Magicam. Then, you turned off your phone once again to focus on what was going on in the moment. Sebek looked just about done with his family, and you smiled before asking him how he was enjoying being with his family, and he looked even more exhausted, making you laugh out loud.

~~~~~~~~

You have been here for a few hours, and the pressure of being around people was starting to get to you. The knight you just so happened to be dating was sleeping on the couch, and you were once again snuggled up against him. You were actually pretty close to falling asleep yourself, but you wanted to make it to midnight.

Everyone was sitting in the living room, being quiet so as to not disturb either of you two, but you had let them know that it was okay to wake you up about 10 minutes before 12 am because the couples were going to kiss. The thought made the Zigvolt siblings blush and Lilia giggle, but you got to rub it in everyone’s faces that you weren’t going to be single for the holidays anymore.

When you were on the brink of dreamland, you were harshly jostled out of the limbo by Mrs. Zigvolt, telling you that there was 10 minutes left. You turned to wake Silver up, but it took a bit more effort. You actually sat there for five minutes trying to wake him up, and you had to scream like you were in danger. It made everyone let out a few laughs as Silver jumped up and ran over to you to make sure you were okay.

If you were to say that he was not very happy about that, you would be correct. However, you told him that he was not waking up and that was the one thing you thought to do. He forgave you, and you started the countdown timer. You were starting to feel a bit nervous, but Silver cupped your face in his hands as he started whispering to you.

“I am happy that I get to be with you, Y/N. I am happy that I get to start a new year with you, and we get to see the beginning of it as a couple. I am grateful that you chose me to be your knight in shining armor, and I’m happy that I have the privilege of calling you mine.”

His words nearly made you tear up alone, but you had no time as you both as well as the others started counting down from 10. You quickly gathered yourself, smiled, and looked into your lover’s eyes.

The second the time got down to 1, everyone shouted, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!” and you were immediately pulled into the deepest kiss you probably have ever shared with Silver. You closed your eyes, throwing your arms around his neck as you reciprocated the kiss.

This was definitely worth walking in the freezing cold for.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #silver vanrouge #twst silver #twst silver x reader #silver x reader #silver #silver vanrouge x reader #twst silver vanrouge x reader #twst silver vanrouge

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runningfrom2am · 9 months

Text

‘tis the damn season

summary: long distance wasn't going to work, rafe made that very clear. so when you come home from LA for christmas break, what happens when you see your ex again?

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: allusions to hooking up but not anything actually nsfw, soft(ish)!rafe, but somehow also canon(ish)!rafe (hard to explain but you'll see lol.

a/n: i got this request an ETERNITY ago from @flonkertn for my 500 celly sorry girl but here it is now lol

masterlists // nav

requests

join my taglist here

You kick off the snow from your shoes as you walk into the familiar coffee shop, pulling your hood off and taking in the scent of ground coffee beans and fresh vanilla. It's only been four months since you've been here, but you missed it.

You walk up to the counter and order your old usual, chatting with the barista, a girl you had graduated with just earlier this year. You smiled and nodded as she explained she was taking a gap year, saving up to hopefully get into UNC. You step away after paying and stand at the other end of the counter to wait for your drink.

It's busy, but not too busy, and you get your drink in just five minutes and wave goodbye as you turn to leave. Of course you were imagining you would see people you knew, but you didn't think you would see Rafe so soon. You were hoping you wouldn't see your ex at all, actually.

You lock eyes for about a second and you give him a small smile, brushing past him and his group of friends who were laughing as you get to the door and step back out into the light sprinkling of snow that just started again.

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with While I was gone I would have asked you.

Rafe didn't expect to see you so soon, either. You didn't end things on bad terms, far from it. It was the hardest goodbye you'd ever had to face, but long distance was out of the question for both of you since you were going to school on the West Coast. You actually couldn't be further away within the continental United States, and it was just a stress neither of you were ready to take on.

It's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass But I felt it when I passed you.

You felt cold before the winter breeze even hit you, before the bell above the door even rang to signal that someone was leaving. You pull your hood back up with your free hand and trek toward your car in the shallow snow.

"Hey! Y/N! Wait!" You hear Rafe call to you and you're quick to turn, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the small parking lot.

"Rafe, hi." You smile shyly, wanting to avoid his eyes. If you look into his eyes for too long you're certain you won't be able to walk away, knowing damn well your suitcase is still packed at home ready for you to leave in only a couple of short weeks.

"Hey, uh, how have you been?" He jogs up to you, smiling with a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He feels guilty about not being able to commit to the long distance between you most of the year.

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me But if it's all the same to you It's the same to me

"I'm good." You nod softly, taking a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Good." Rafe replies simply. Things have never been this awkward between the two of you before, ever. There's so much to say but simultaneously, so little. "How's LA treating you?"

"It's great. I love it there." You smile, and this brings him a level of comfort. At least he didn't give you up just for you to be miserable over the sacrifice you both made.

"That's awesome. I'm glad." Rafe nods, taking in your appearance and still trying to process that it's actually you standing in front of him. You look just the same as you did last Christmas, but somehow so much more grown up.

"I, uh, it's great to see you, but I've got to get going..." You say after a moment of awkward silence as Rafe is pulled from his trance, admiring the blush from the cold that's spread over your nose and cheeks.

"Wait, wait-" He grabs your arm as you go to turn away. "Uh, want to hang out, like catch up sometime this week?"

You smile softly and nod, despite knowing damn well you'll regret it when you have to say goodbye again. "For sure, I'll text you." You agree, making him smile.

"Sweet, cool... I'll talk to you soon, then."

So we could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend 'Tis the damn season, write this down

You didn't end up needing to text Rafe, because he would text you that night. He was anxious to see you, of course. Something you realized over the last three years together, being admired by classmates for having the "perfect" relationship, is that Rafe doesn't think five minutes into the future. He's impulsive and doesn't think about consequences, which you used to think was cute but with adulthood barreling at you before you could blink or stop it, that would be a factor that ended your relationship. You had dreams, and he didn't, and the idea of living for the future instead of the moment didn't sit well with him. He couldn't suffer through months without you at his side, he would just miss you too much and it would be too hard. Now, that you're home, he couldn't miss the opportunity to see you again.

The following afternoon, you're borrowing your parent's car to meet Rafe at the local ice rink. This was a tradition you had following one of your first dates being there a few holidays before. You were just kids, in hindsight, and you smile at the memory as you walk inside, holding your keys and phone in gloved hands.

I'm stayin' at my parents' house And the road not taken looks real good now And it always leads to you in my hometown

The next day, you see him again. Not by choice this time, but after sharing awkward smiles across your parent's Christmas party for a couple of hours, you find yourself sitting next to your ex on the porch swing just outside your front door. You slowly rock the bench with one foot, curled up in a blanket with a cup of tea in your hands.

"I'm sorry you got dragged here." You say quietly, after sitting in silence for several minutes. You wished you could say that your 'not-date' yesterday went horribly, but it didn't. You enjoyed almost every second of it, it brought back so many memories that you now wish you could forget.

"Why? I wanted to see you." Rafe replies, looking over at you in the dim lighting that's seeping through the window behind you.

"You shouldn't." You say, taking a sip of your tea that is quickly cooling with the night air.

Rafe just shrugs in response. His parents weren't going to make him come this year, all things considered, and at first, he didn't want to. Once they left, however, he found himself digging through his closet for a dress shirt and throwing it on before flying out the door with the keys to his new truck and a bottle of wine from the cellar to give to your parents.

The holidays linger like bad perfume You can run, but only so far I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

Somehow, on a couple weeks' vacation, you run into Rafe for a third time in the first five days of your trip. This isn't surprising, considering you were at a party with your friends and a bunch of kids you graduated with. What they failed to consider is that they invited some other mutual friends- Kelce and Topper. Where they go, Rafe goes; but your friends didn't connect those dots ahead of time. Which is how you ended up drunk, with your ex's tongue in your mouth and your back pressed up against the bathroom door.

You didn't talk the whole night leading up to this and hadn't even bothered to turn on the light in the small room. Part of you didn't want to- you knew you would have left if you had to think about the weight of this decision for even a moment.

As he runs his hand down over your waist and under your skirt, you're willing to admit to yourself that you've missed him. So, so much. That it's been nearly impossible to keep him out of your head, even all the way across the country he's had this hold on you that you just haven't been able to shake.

"Come home with me." Rafe mumbles against the soft skin of your lips, savouring the bitter taste of your lip gloss as it lingers on his tongue.

You breathe out a soft 'okay', gripping onto the sides of his shirt and holding him tight against you as if he would vanish if you let him go.

Within a few minutes, you're stumbling out of the bathroom hand in hand heading for the door, feeling lucky that Tannyhill is within walking distance. A voice in the back of your mind is telling you you shouldn't tell your friends that you're leaving with your ex and need a ride back to his house- they likely wouldn't approve.

"There they go." Your best friend sighs, still nursing her third drink.

"You called it." Your other friend giggles, watching you fumble with the bag you have thrown over your shoulder as Rafe holds the door for you. "Should we stop them?"

"Probably." She replies, downing the rest of her drink, but shrugging and making no effort to go and stop you herself.

Across the room, Topper groans and reaches for his wallet, pulling out a hundred and handing it to a cheering Kelce. "I told you, bro! I told you he'd get her home tonight." He laughs, both of your friend groups watching as the door slams behind the two of you and you head in the direction of Rafe's house, the alcohol in both of your systems keeping you warm.

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'

And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @rafegirly, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn

#obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks #obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #Spotify

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zoyaofthegardvn · 1 year

Text

Clingy

In which reader overhears Mor say something not too nice about her... miscommunication enuses!

A/N: Just because I wanted to write some angst! Not too much, though, lol, I only write happy endings on this blog! :)

CW: None! Angst to fluff!

The day had been long, and tiring. You worked at a school in the Night Court, specifically with children ages 5-10. Winter Solstice was approaching, and today was the last day before school was out for a bit of a break. Little ones were so, so antsy about the holiday, and it didn't help that snow had been coming down fast and hard all day, increasing the anxiousness to be released for the break. It was hard to wrangle them all and get them to pay attention to the day's lesson, because truly, you didn't want to spoil their fun.

But finally, the day was over. The children were home with their families for a few weeks, likely already out enjoying the winter wonderland in the glittering Velaris. As beautiful as you thought it was, all you really wanted was to be back home with your mate, wrapped up under the blankets together.

First, though, you had to meet her at the River House, where you know she had been meeting with other members of the Inner Circle to discuss an upcoming visit to the Court of Nightmares. It was only Feyre, Nesta, and Rhys, as Cassian, Amren, and Azriel were all on other diplomatic trips, preparing for the large gathering planned for the upcoming new year.

After winnowing to the front yard, you trudged through the thick snow, not bothering to knock before entering the large estate. It was quiet, Nyx likely occupied with Elain while the others conversed. You could hear their muffled voices coming from the center of the house, where Rhys' office was located.

You weren't trying to be especially quiet, but you also hadn't announced your arrival, either.

The doors to his office were closed, dim light seeping from underneath. As you got closer, you heard someone, maybe Feyre, mention your name.

This, of course, grabbed your attention, and you tiptoed forward gently to listen to what they were saying. Just a few steps away, you heard Nesta ask, "How are you two doing?"

The question wasn't odd as the two of you had just moved in together, so it was only natural that your friends wanted to know how this new stage in your lives was going.

Mor sighed before responding, "It's good."

This made your brows furrow, because if they had asked you, you would have replied that it was amazing, one of the best experiences of your life. You'd have said how much closer to her you felt, how much more in love with her you've fallen and how you can't wait to spend the rest of your lives together.

But, you knew that Mor did tend to keep her romantic life more private than some of the other members of the Inner Circle, just rivaling Amren. She trusted them with her life, of course, but it didn't erase the centuries she'd spent learning to be incredibly cautious with and protective of any love in her life.

There were just some things she preferred to keep private, being honest with these kinds of emotions has always been more difficult for her.

But, still, you wondered if maybe things weren't as perfect for her as they were for you.

You take another step closer, turning your ear to the door. Rhys chuckles, saying, "Just good? You're finally in a place to yourselves and it's just good? What happened to the Mor and Y/N I know, that were always complaining about living with," Rhys pauses, and you can see him deep in thought in your head. "What did she call us?"

Nesta speaks next, "A pack of unruly males?" the smirk evident in her voice.

Rhys and Feyre both laugh before Rhys speaks again, "Yes! You're telling me you're finally away from the Cassian and Azriel," Feyre cuts in, adding, "You too, Rhys!" before he finishes with, "Pissing contest?"

Mor laughs a bit, but she doesn't say anything.

You're really beginning to overthink now, your lips in a frown.

When the laughter dies down, Feyre asks, "Really, Mor, how is it? I miss having you both around."

Mor hums, and you can hear her take a large sip of wine now that you've moved to directly outside of the door, ear pressed to the dark wood.

"I love her, she's my mate, and I'm so glad to take this big step with her, but... it's different." Mor says, getting quieter by the end.

Your heart drops at the statement, and you can only listen as she continues.

"I g-guess.. she's just everywhere, you know? More clingy, too. It's only been two weeks, I'm still seeing how it goes..."

By now, your eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, and you begin to back away, not wanting to hear anymore and too worried you'll be discovered. The word she used, clingy, was ringing in your ears.

Yes, you were quite affectionate and cuddly with her. Especially now that you two had a private home, no risk of anyone seeing you be intimate and close. Not that you two hadn't been in front of your friends, but there was a different feel to it when you could wrap up on the couch together, cook a meal together, or read a book on the porch together completely alone. You loved it, cherished it, especially after spending so long wanting a romance like this, never thinking you'd find your mate.

You were devastated to know Mor didn't feel quite the same, but you loved her, of course, and didn't want anything to end between the two of you. You knew she loved you, but you wished she'd just told you if she was having any doubts about your living situation or if she wished you two could spend more time apart, rather than embarrass you in front of your friends.

Once you'd left the front of the River House, you winnowed away, to your and Mor's house.

You decided to get ready for the evening, that you'll just wait for Mor to return home instead of meeting her. You doubted that she'd notice, and that maybe, she'd appreciate the space you'd given her.

---

It's almost dark out by the time you heard the front door unlock and creak open. You'd begun to make dinner, a pasta sauce simmering on the stove next to a pot of boiling water, bread baking in the oven.

You listened to Mor shed her winter gear, ending with her boots landing on the mat by the front door. Her footsteps padded down the hallway, entering the kitchen where she saw you at the stovetop, back to the entryway.

"Hello, love," Mor said sweetly, before sniffing dramatically. "Whatever you're making smells amazing!"

You turn to look at her over your shoulder, smiling and thanking her.

Her brows drip just a bit in confusion, clearly expecting a more joyous greeting, but you send a loving pulse down the bond in an effort so soothe her, turning back to the food in front of you.

She walks forward, wrapping her arms around your waist, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You make no move to return the embrace, instead, continuing to stir the sauce that's nearly done.

She places a few kisses on your skin, then says, "I missed you today, baby. I thought you were going to meet me at Rhys' earlier?"

You place the spoon down, turning to look at her. "I had a long day at work today, so I figured I'd come home and start dinner early." You smiled at the end, to assure her that it was just a simple plan change.

She looks confused again for just a second, before she smiles and nods, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss her back, but pull away before she can deepen it. You didn't want to be cold, but you were still a bit hurt, and of course, you didn't want to seem clingy.

"Why don't you change into some comfier clothes, I'll have the food ready when you get back."

Mor slowly pulls away from you, nodding softly before backing out of the room.

You sigh, turning back to the stove.

By the time the pasta has been drained, added to the sauce pan, seasoned more to taste and plated, Mor is reentering the room. She dons a red nightgown. It isn't especially sexy, it covers her and is quite tame. But she knows how much you love her in red.

As you pull the bread from the oven and begin to place a piece on each of your plates, Mor grabs a bottle of wine from the rack Amren had gifted the two of you.

She pours you and herself a glass, placing them on the tables as you set the plates down. You go to gather silverware and napkins, but she pushes you to your seat, pecking your cheek. "Sit, my love, after cooking all this. I'll get the rest."

Truly, it wasn't much, and it definitely wasn't hard, but you two usually cooked together, so you know she likely wanted to feel like she did some of the dinner work.

You sat and waited, smiling at her as she set your things down on the table.

When she took her seat, you immediately began to eat, waiting for her to tell you about her day.

"So, do you want me to tell you about the Court of Nightmares trip?"

You nodded while sipping your wine, encouraging her to continue.

---

After your plates were cleaned and your wine glasses were emptied, you stood and began to collect the dishes. You hadn't talked much, and spoke little of your day. Your plan was to go to bed within the next hour or so, to give Mor some of the time alone she badly needed. There was a book Nesta had given you that you needed to finish anyway, a few knitting projects you'd started with Elain and had abandoned, some homework for the next term you could get a headstart on making.

Alone time, you decided, would be good for the both of you.

Mor helped you clean, singing a song under her breath to fill the silence. When you were done, she wrapped her arms around you again and kissed you, harder than before.

"I really missed you," she said against your lips, cupping your face with one hand and gripping your hip with the other.

And, of course, you missed her too. That was undeniable, and you can't resist kissing your mate.

"I missed you too, sweetheart, I'm glad you had a good day." You bumped her nose with your own, kissing her again, rubbing her arms and back.

She grips you tighter, pushing your body into hers. She groans in your mouth, and you pull away before it can go any farther.

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, you say, "I'm really tired, my love, I'm sorry."

She rubs your cheek with her thumb, kissing your forehead before pulling away. "That's okay," she says, always loving and sweet, never wanting to pressure you or make you feel bad. "I want you to tell me about it, I was excited to see you earlier and I got sad that you didn't come," your heart stings at her admission, but she continues on, "but I understand that you're tired. What happened today? Come lay down with me on the couch."

You feel a bit guilty for rejecting her like this, but, as gently as you can, you say, "I think I'm just gonna go to bed, love. I'm really sorry, I'm just exhausted. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, I swear."

Mor looks a bit surprised at your response. "Do you feel alright, Y/N, do you feel sick?"

You huff a laugh, smiling and shaking your head. You kiss her again, to alleviate any worry. "Just a headache, from the bad day, I think. I'm just going to lay down, you know, in the quiet, see if it helps. I'll likely be asleep pretty quickly."

Reluctantly, with a frown on her face, Mor nods. "Okay, baby. If you think that'll make you feel better."

You hum, "It will. I'm fine, Mor, really."

She releases you and grabs your hand, pulling you to the bedroom. "Let me at least tuck you in?"

You laugh at her, and nod your head. "Alright."

---

Later, in the solitude of your shared bedroom, you attempt to focus on the coursework in front of you.

Mor had, as she said she would, tucked you into bed. She fluffed the pillows, laid you down, dimmed the lights, cracked a window just a bit to cool the stuffy room. Then, she pulled the blankets up to your chin, kissing your forehead before again asking if you're alright.

You reassured her that truly, it's just been a very long day, trying not to be puzzled over her apparent newfound desire to be incredibly close to you tonight.

You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about the distance you'd been putting between the two of you this evening. But, you were admittedly still very hurt. You struggled to both wish that she'd spoken to you rather than behind your back, and be glad that she'd even opened up at all, likely wanting to spare your feelings. You did not want to drive her away from you by being... clingy. But, it was hard to do this, to be so... detached from one another.

You sigh in frustration, the blank sheet of paper in front of you taunting you. You resign to the fact that you will likely not get any work done tonight. Not for your job, not on Nesta's book, not your half knitted scarves. There really is nothing to do but think, and thinking is especially cruel on you tonight.

You... could go downstairs to join your mate. You can picture her, downstairs, cozy on the couch. Either painting her nails, reading a book, or maybe, unlike you, getting some work done on whatever work for the Night Court she'd been tasked with.

But... no. You wouldn't bother her. You'd give her her space, so long as she was happy and comfortable, you'd learn to be too with this new relationship dynamic. Really, so that you never lost her, you figured you had no choice.

It was a little over an hour later, long after you'd called it quits and shut the lights off entirely, that the bedroom door creaked open again.

You listened to Mor gently close the door behind her, and pad her way over to the bed. You were, very clearly, on your side of the bed. Almost to the edge. You hoped this didn't strike her as odd, because you rarely went to bed without her, you hoped it just seemed like you'd rolled over there in your sleep without her to cuddle up to.

She lifted the covers and slid in, yet remained still. You didn't dare show that you were still awake, and so you waited to see what move she made.

Finally, after several seconds of nothing, Mor shifted closer. She didn't cuddle you as intensely as usual, just reached a hand out to rest on your hip. Typically, you'd lay on her chest, or you'd take turns being the little spoon, or you'd lay facing one another with your legs and hands interlocked. You yearned for the contact, to feel her skin on your own. But, you made no move to get closer.

Falling asleep was difficult, especially without the comfort of your mate wrapped around you. But, eventually, under the weight of her delicate hand, you drifted off.

---

The next morning, you woke to sunlight trickling in through the blinds. You could see a bit of dust floating through the air, and you faintly picked up on the sound of yet more snow falling.

Turning to look beside you, you saw Mor, asleep and cozy. She looked so warm, so tired, yet not entirely peaceful. A small frown was painting her face, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Sitting up in the bed, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then her pouted lips. She didn't wake up at the touch, and you opted to let her sleep in rather than cuddle her until the both of you were awake and ready to start the day.

You shivered at the cold floor touching your barefeet, slipping fuzzy slippers Feyre had gifted you one year onto your feet. You gently exited the bedroom, careful to not disturb Mor's rest.

As you prepared coffee in the kitchen, you studied the snowfall from the window above the sink. It was gorgeous, a glittery white coat making the green of the trees surrounding your property stand out. Your house was tucked away in the woods, as it has been your dream to have a home surrounded by your favorite scenery. The house is private and cozy. But, it is also incredibly close to the heart of Velaris, just located on the closest edge of the city. That decision was for Mor, who loved city night life.

As you observe the weather, you wonder if you made a mistake choosing a home so secluded. The snow was thick and falling fast. Visibility was low, and you didn't need to go outside to know that it was bitter cold. Whatever plans you and Mor had for the day would be no more, as the weather was far too intense for any traveling.

This should have made you excited, squealing with glee. It should have sent you straight back to the bedroom, to sleep in with Mor, or, to wake her up and get her to enjoy the beautiful sight with you.

But, it made you... nervous. Nervous to see her reaction to her being snowed in with you, nervous that because neither of you could escape, one of you, likely her, would decide to leave for good when the snow cleared.

You shake your head, sipping your coffee, feeling silly for such dramatic thoughts.

She doesn't hate you, you thought. She loves you very much, she just needs space.

As if your sour thoughts had summoned her, Mor strolled into the kitchen. You hadn't heard her wake up, too lost in your head.

You turned to look at her, smiling softly over your mug, sending a loving pulse down the bond before you have to break the news to her.

She smiled back, tugging on your bond, walking up to you planting a firm kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, beautiful," Mor whispered against your lips, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you.

"Mmmm, good morning." You pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her scent.

You pulled back, turning to grab her favorite mug from a cupboard. "I made coffee, shall I make you a cup?"

You're pouring the coffee before she answers, knowing she'll never turn a cup of coffee down. She nods, then takes your spot at the sink, observing the snow as you had previously done.

"It's coming down hard, I didn't expect all this!"

You wince at the comment, hoping she isn't too terribly disappointed that she's trapped here.

"Yes, I thought yesterday was to be the worst of it. It doesn't look like we'll be able to do much today..." You trailed off at the end, bracing for a sight of disappointment.

When one didn't come, you turned back to her, holding out her mug that now contained coffee sugared and creamed to her liking.

She looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her lip. She took a deep sip from her mug before setting it down, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it on the counter, too. She grabbed your hand, pulling you to the stairs, presumably back to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked, genuinely confused.

"Let's get some more clothes on, silly! There's so much snow to play in!" She giggles as she speaks, like it should be obvious what her plans for today are.

You let her pull you into the bedroom, watching as she rummages through drawers and your walk in closet. She pulls out several layers of clothes for both you and her, throwing them onto the bed. She starts to pull her nightgown over her head before catching your confused gaze.

"What's wrong, Y/N? I thought you loved snow?"

She's right, you do love snow. You loved the look of it, the feel of breathing in the cold air. The snowmen you could build and the snowball fights you were always determined to win. The crunch of it underneath your boots and the smoothness as you held it in your gloved hands.

That wasn't why you hesitated, though.

"I do!" You were quick to clarify, not wanting it to seem like you were the one not wanting to spend this time together. "I just... we can't really do anything today, with it coming down like this." Mor just stared at you, waiting for you to continue. "I-I mean, aren't you a little upset? Didn't you have more things to meet with Rhys and Feyre about? Weren't you going to help plan the New Year party?"

Mor slowly released the hem of her gown, confusion painting her face. "I mean, yes, I did have those plans today, but why would I be upset? It's just a party, one that's still days away." She stepped closer towards you, and you could sense that she was growing a little aggravated. "Why would I be mad that I get a day off, a day to spend at home?"

You wanted to say, because it's a day with me, another day you don't get to have alone. But, you didn't. Your goal has never been to start a fight over this, and so you backed down before one could start.

"I don't know, Mor. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset about it... the way it looks outside, it could be a few days until everything is back to normal. I didn't mean to imply anything, I'm sorry."

Mor didn't say anything for a moment, just nodded her head and continued to frown.

"D-Do you... do you still want to go outside?" You asked tentatively, the air charged with frustration, confusion, hesitation.

Mor sighed, closing her eyes for a second before moving to pull on a pair of sweatpants, discarding her nightgown and putting on a sweater. "I don't feel like it anymore, maybe later."

She didn't look at you as she spoke, speaking under her breath and hurrying past you to the door.

You tried to grab her arm, to stop her from fleeing, but she moved out of your reach and left to go downstairs.

"Damnit." You muttered under your breath. You had never intended to upset her, but you also didn't think you had done anything to deserve her anger.

But, it seemed like now she truly did need that alone time she'd apparently been craving. You wouldn't stoke her anymore, you'd let her calm down, and you'd stay out her way, even if it mean enduring the radiating disappointment from the bond.

---

You spent most of the morning locked away in the bedroom, staying out of Mor's way. You left once to fix another cup of coffee, Mor was sitting at the table, touching up her red-painted nails. She just looked at you when you walked in, and said nothing as you left to retreat back upstairs.

The book you were reading, while good, wasn't doing a very good job of distracting you. In fact, the longer you sat, the more your frustration brewed.

You really didn't feel like you deserved for her to be upset with you. You had been trying to avoid this, a fight, a confrontation. But you weren't sure how to move past this until you two talked.

A little after noon, you again ventured downstairs, determined to get some food and speak to Mor. You planned to tell her how you felt undeserving of her disappointment, how you felt like it was unfair that she was upset with you for giving her what she seemingly wanted.

She was absent from the kitchen, and eventually, you found her in her office, leafing through paperwork at her desk. You could tell she was trying to busy herself, as just days ago, she had told you the paperwork was mindless, formality bullshit from court to court.

Leaning against the doorway, you ask her, "Would you like some lunch? I think I'm going to make a sandwich, or maybe a salad?"

Mor didn't look up from her work. "No, thanks," she mumbled under her breath, paying you no attention.

"Mor, look at me," you said, calm and with a balanced tone.

She sighed, refusing to meet your gaze, keeping her attention secured on the papers in front of her. "I'm not hungry, Y/N, I'll figure something out later." She briefly waved her hand in the air, like she was shooing you away.

You roll your eyes, the desire for a conversation gone at the annoyance in her tone. You turn to walk away, but you can't help yourself from saying, "Alone, I'm sure, as you've made it abundantly clear that you prefer."

You're hardly a few steps down the hallway before you hear Mor call, "What did you say?" The sound of her chair screeching backward as she rises fills the silence, but you're still walking away. You knew having a calm, collected talk about this wasn't going to happen after she acted so unconcerned with your presence.

You hear her footsteps enter the hallway, too, Mor trailing right behind you.

"Y/n, what did you just say?"

And, because you're beginning to grow a bit bitter about this whole situation, you say, "Figure it out later."

Her footsteps grow faster, and as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen, she grabs your wrist and whirls you around.

"Are you serious right now?" Her tone is sharp, her jaw clenched, her beautiful face painted with anger.

You laugh, once and humorless. "Am I serious? Are you serious, Mor? Acting so cold to me today," your voice grows sharper the more you think about it, "all because you're locked in this damn house with me!"

Mor's brows scrunch, a mixture of anger and confusion. "Excuse me?! You're the one who didn't want to go outside with me this morning! You're the one who avoided me last night, going to bed early and staying as far away from me as you could!"

You pull your arm out of her grasp, pointing at her, "I never said I didn't want to go outside with you! You're the one who said she didn't feel like going anymore!"

Mor turns, scoffing and throwing her hands in the air like she can't believe what's happening. "Why would I after you had just implied like going outside together was like, the worst possible thing that could happen to you!"

You stare at her for a moment, mouth open and eyes wide. "You're making stuff up at this point! I never did that! I was just thinking about you. Cauldron forbid I care about what you want, Mor!"

You shake your head, your heart is hammering and you're starting to feel the uncomfortable sensation of tears gathering in your eyes and a lump forming in your throat.

When you turn to walk away, before it gets any worse, Mor grabs you again.

"Don't walk away from me! What in the gods name are you even talking about? You seriously think work is all I care about? You know me better than that." She sounds hurt, and angry, but you can't imagine she feels those things anywhere near the same degree as you do.

You sigh, losing the edge to your voice, a tear finally leaking from one of your eyes. "No, Mor, I don't think that. But I do know that being with me, living with me, isn't what you thought it would be. I wanted to save you from that today, that's all."

She stops dead in her tracks, her pacing coming to an abrupt end as she stares at you like she doesn't even recognize you. "What are you even saying, Y/N? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I gave you space last night, and I tried to this morning, so I wasn't too clingy for you," you put emphasis on that word like it was damning you. "But all it did was make you bitter towards me today, Mor. So I'm not sure what else I can do."

Again, she stares at you like she has no idea what's going on. And then, you see it click. Her features slowly grow from angry to sad, and she closes her eyes, tilting her head down. She looks ashamed, like she wishes she hadn't been caught.

A few more tears run down your face, and you swipe them away with your fingers, trying to calm your shaking hands.

"I didn't want to fight about this, Mor, I never did. I heard something I wasn't supposed to. I can't change how you feel, but I can change how I act. Can we just leave this alone? I won't be as clingy, but I need you to stop treating me like I've done something wrong." Your voice is hardly a whisper, and you're turning to leave the foyer you've been having this confrontation in before, for the third time, Mor grabs your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

You don't look at her as she says, "Baby, I am so, so, so sorry," her voice cracks, and the sound of her so upset breaks your heart, despite her being the reason yours has been broken since the night before. "Please, Y/N. let me explain."

You shake your head, pulling your arm away, but she doesn't let go. "There's nothing to explain, Mor. I heard you clearly last night. As much as I wish you had spoken to me about this, rather than embarrass me in front of our friends, what's done is done. You can't change how you feel."

Just as you said to her, moments before, Mor asks, "Y/N, please look at me."

You pull your watery eyes to hers, and truly, she looks devastated.

"That's not how I feel, Y/N."

You smile softly at her, putting your hand on top of the one holding your arm. You push her grasp away, saying, "Mor, of course you do. I'm suffocating, I see that now. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, bu-"

Mor's cutting you off before you finish. "No! Y/N, I mean it. I do not think you're clingy, I was an idiot to say that."

Before she can continue, you stop her with a hand raised. "Mor, seriously, this is just making it worse. We can figure out how to make this relationship work better, later. I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

Finally releasing yourself from the hold she's had on you, you make your way into the kitchen.

And, of course, your stubborn mate follows you. She watches as you pull supplies from the fridge, meat and cheese and lettuce and other things required for a sandwich.

You spot her chewing on her thumbnail, her newly painted nail, as she watches you.

You sigh as you pull the bread from the cupboard. "Do you want a sandwich, Mor?"

"I want to talk, Y/N. I want to explain, I want to make this right. Please, baby, let me explain." Her voice is pleading, and she sounds close to the tears you were in just moments ago.

You slam two slices of bread onto a plate more forcefully than necessary. "I said I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please, Mor. Enough."

She seems to understand how serious you are, and she doesn't push you any further. She sits at the table as you prepare your lunch, and because you love her very much, and you know she hasn't eaten, you fix her one, too.

---

The day moves slowly, the two of you sticking to doing your own things. You find that the day is easier now that she knows what you know, that it's easier to breathe knowing you've said what you needed to say.

Mor hovers around you, but she doesn't push you to speak anymore. When you leave to sit by the fire in the living room, she moves to the couch with a book in hand. When you decide to work on clearing your front porch of snow, she joins you, shovel in hand and wordless. When you take a hot bath after, she waits in the bedroom, tidying until you're done. When dinner comes around, it's her that makes you a meal, and you nod your head in thanks, the two of you eating her stew in silence.

Long after the sun has gone down, you're in your bedroom, pulling a sweatshirt, matching to your sweatpants, over your head.

The door creaks open, and Mor walks in, both your book and hers in hand. Her face still looks devastated, you've been enduring the radiating guilt, shame, sadness, and disappointment from the bond all day. The only thing stopping you from kissing the hurt from her face is your own hurt, still aching, but a little less raw.

Mor sets the books down on her bedside table, and you can tell she's not going to let the two of you sleep tonight unless she's said her piece.

As much as you'd rather forget about this day, you know that tensions will only grow if you don't allow her to say whatever it is she wants to say, whatever it is she thinks will make this better.

You pull the covers back, settling on the bed. "Can you hand me my book, Mor?"

"Y/N..." Her voice is quiet. She's still standing, like she's afraid that if she gets too close, you'll run away.

You sigh, looking her in the eyes. You're surprised to see them welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling.

Your face scrunches, and you reach a hand out to her. "Mor, don't cry..." Your voice trails off, confusion lacing your tone.

She crumbles at your outstretched hand, like the acceptance is something she thought she'd lost forever. Like she's relieved that you still want her.

She collapses onto the bed, grabbing your hand, crying in earnest now. "I-I'm so sorry, Y/N, I swear to the gods I d-didn't mean what I s-s-said."

You can hardly understand her, and you run a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"Mor, please, you don't have to explain yourself... I just want to move on from this."

That makes her cry harder, she's burying her face in your shoulder, shaking her head in refusal. "No! I d-don't want to move on from this, I want to make it r-right," she hiccups on a sob before continuing, "if you'll let me, p-please."

You sigh, kissing her hairline, urging her to pull back and look at you. "Honestly, Mor, I think it'll just hurt worse if you explain why I'm too clingy. I wish you'd just let us change how this," you gesture between the two of you, "works. No hard feelings that way, really."

Mor's face grows frustrated, her tears spilling down her cheeks rapidly. She sniffles, and grits out, "No. I-I don't want anything to c-change!"

"Mor, reall-"

She cuts you off before you can go on. "Y/N, p-please, just listen to me right now. I know I don't d-deserve it, b-but..."

Seeing her so upset, hearing the heartbreak in her voice, the sight of her red and puffy face from crying so hard, it makes you give in. You nod, signaling to her that she can continue, that you'll listen and you'll try to understand.

You brace yourself for the hurt, for her to explain how she feels suffocated by you, that you're too overbearing, just too clingy. You're ready for her to tell you that she loves you, because you know that she does, but that she just needs some space.

She doesn't, though.

She takes a deep breath in, bringing her hands up to rub at her wet cheeks, closing her eyes and collecting herself for a moment.

"Y/N, I-I have no excuse, for talking about you that way, in front of our friends."

She opens her eyes and looks deep into yours, waiting to see if you're going to stop her. When you make no move to interrupt, she continues.

"I... I am not good at this," she gestures between the both of you, then takes your hand into her own. "I'm not good at... being someone's mate."

You go to stop her, to scold her for thinking that way. She's perfect, the two of you literally made for one another. You'd not change a thing about her, and so far, your relationship had been virtually perfect. But, you swore to listen, so you refrain from stopping her.

"I never thought I'd meet my mate, and... for it to be a woman..." she trails off, and she doesn't have to elaborate on what she means by that. While your friends, your family, have been nothing but accepting and supportive, the same cannot be said for the rest of the world. Generally, Velaris, the Night Court, is open-minded, unfazed by any sort of queerness. And she decided, the moment she met you, she was done hiding her affections for women. She would not hide her mate, both you and her deserved better. But, Mor has seen the worst of other courts, of other people. She's seen terrible things happen to people for not being able to control who they love. She has always, always, been so protective of you, of the relationship the two of you have. It's made her guarded. Even around people she loves and trusts, she finds it difficult to be open and honest about the relationship the two of you have. She's opted for privacy in order to ensure protection. You know that, and it has never bothered you, because of course, you understand it.

"I am still... figuring this all out. How to navigate this, how to be more happy than scared." She pulls your hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You smile softly at her, and cup her face, stroking her cheek with your thumb, soothing the still reddened skin despite the tears being nearly gone.

She leans into the touch, and again, she takes a deep inhale, like she's in need of being grounded.

"When they asked me today, how things are going... I-I just... I couldn't be honest." Her voice cracks at the end, and you dread having to see her beautiful face in tears again.

"Y/N, I swear to you, everything is perfect."

"Mor..." you sigh, worried she's just trying to make you feel better about all of this, worried she isn't really thinking of what would make her happier.

"No, Y/N, I mean it. Everything about you, about us... it's perfect," she moves to hold your hand to her face with both of hers, turning to press a kiss into your palm.

"I know it shouldn't, because they're our friends, our family... but it made me uncomfortable, the idea of gushing to them about us."

You give her a curious look, but you say nothing.

"It feels like, if anyone knows how perfect this is, how happy we are... someone will rip it away from us, from me."

And that, that breaks your heart. "Oh, Mor..." you coo, sitting up straighter, holding her face in both of your hands now.

"I really, really, really, have no excuse for what I said. You are not too clingy, Y/N. In fact, I sometimes wish we could be even closer."

You huff a small laugh at that, shaking your head and smiling. "Mor, it's okay, really."

She refuses to let you forgive her so easily, though. "It's not okay, baby. You're my mate, you're it for me. The only thing I'll ever want in life. I don't want to hide that, especially not from our friends. You deserve to be spoken about in truth, about how amazing you are, how easy it is to love you, how I miss you every second we aren't together."

It's your turn to tear up now, and you send a flood of love and adoration down the bond.

"I lied to them, because acting like everything isn't perfect was easier than feeling vulnerable. I treated you terribly, and in front of our friends, too... I am so, so sorry, baby."

You feel nothing but love and sincerity from the bond, no sign that she's lying, that she's just saying this to spare your feelings. You believe her, of course. She's poured her heart out to you, she's chosen uncomfortable vulnerability in order to make sure you know how loved you are.

Hearing what she said about you, knowing she said it to your friends too, it hurt. But, you know she's learned from this. You know that she truly feels terrible, and you now know that she thinks your relationship is just as incredible as you do. You hold no anger anymore, and the only thing left to make you sad is how upset your mate still looks.

"Mor, my love, I forgive you, it's alright." You learn forward, until your forehead is resting on hers. Her eyes flutter shut, and she releases a breath she was holding.

"You do?" She whispers.

You kiss her gently in response. "Mor, I forgave you a while ago. I wasn't angry so much as I was hurt."

She grimaces, knowing how badly she hurt you, but you soothe her with another peck to her lips.

"I understand, Mor. I do. I hope that next time, though, you'll just be honest," she nods against you, a promise to do right by you. "Or, if you cannot, I hope that you'll choose to hold off on answering, until you can talk about us."

"Of course, my love, this will never happen again."

You hum, plant a kiss to her forehead, and pull away. "I know it won't, sweetheart. Thank you, for being honest, and for apologizing."

A few seconds pass in comfortable silence, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close again.

Then, Mor speaks. "So.... you'll greet me at the door when I come in?" She asks.

"I will, every day, with a kiss." You emphasize your answer with kisses to her cheek, her nose, her lips.

She giggles and pulls away. "And you'll let me help with dinner? And you'll tell me about your day while we eat?"

"Yes, baby."

"And you'll stay up late and cuddle on the couch with me?"

"Hmm, what if I get tired?" You tease.

She pouts at you, but it's in jest. "You'll lay on my chest, and I'll wake you up when it's time to go to bed."

"I suppose that'll work..." a smirk is evident in your voice, and Mor kisses it quickly.

"And you'll cuddle with me in bed, all night?"

"All night."

"And you'll spend snow days outside with me? And take hot baths with me after?"

"I'd love nothing more."

"And you'll always talk to me, if I've done something to upset you? You'll always tell me how you're feeling?"

"I will, Mor, I promise."

She smiles, and wraps her arms around you. She pulls you down to the bed with her, and you nuzzle your face into her neck, planting a kiss to her warm skin. She tugs on your bond, teasing and gentle. A feeling settles over the both of you. It's warm and sweet, the distinct feeling that all is well.

---

A/N: This ended up being way longer than I meant it to be! I hope you all enjoy, angst isn't my usual but I wanted to give it a try. And of course, requests are always welcome! :)

503 notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 1 year

Note

Or if not,

Chris looking after reader since her immune system doesn’t really take to her first Boston Christmas too well and she’s sick ❤️

Winter Blues

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You've always had a little bit of a weak immune system, so it's no surprise that Boston's worst winter it's seen in years starts to get to you. Despite the fresh snow packing the ground and covering the roads, you're only worried about disappointing your boyfriend. Lucky enough for you, he's the sweetest man alive.

Warnings: non, mentions of cold/flu like symptoms, super soft!boyfriend chris

A/N: Thank you for requesting this sweet bean, I did switch it up a little bit because I've been having a very rough Christmas and I feel like writing about it right now just makes me want to cry lol I hope that's okay, happy reading<3

Word Count: 743

The bitter cold hit your cheeks as you made your way back the safety and warmth of your boyfriend’s home, you’d been helping him clear up some snow outside, Chris making it a cute activity for the two of you. As much as you loved the winter and the snow, by hour 2 you could just feel that well known ache creeping up through your body, opting to take a break and head inside. Normally when someone feels sick the general reaction is to get someone to help take care of you, or at least just be present, as a comforting gesture. It was bad enough that you had already been trying to hold off this inevitable outcome, but now your brain only convincing you that it would ruin Chris’s winter joy, the two combined; was enough to have you hide alone in his room.

“I just need to change and lay down for a little while and I’ll be fine…”

You mumbled that to yourself a few times, making your way to the walk-in closet and tossing your now wet clothes into the hamper. Switching to a pair of fuzzy sweatpants and Chris’s blue NASA hoodie, though he would argue and say it was yours. When your body hit the mattress, you immediately let out a sigh, sniffing gently as your sinuses began to stuff up, you let the warmth of the comforter sooth your sore joints. The logical part of you knew you should have told Chris you weren’t feeling well, and the more you lay alone in bed, the more you started kicking yourself from not telling him.

You were about to get up to call for him when footsteps echoed off the hardwood, and a soft knock fell against the door, his head poking in with a frown on his face, worry spreading throughout him

“What happened baby? I thought you were just coming in for a minute”

You sniffled

“I started to feel sick, s-so I came to lay down”

He nodded coming over to sit by your head, the back of his hand pressing to your forehead softly to feel for a fever; which luckily, you did not have

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have come in with you”

“You were having so much fun outside, I didn’t want to ruin it..”

He sighed

“I was having fun because I was with you pretty girl”

When you looked down to avoid his softened gaze, he was quick to pick your chin up gently, his thumb rubbing across your jaw

“You wouldn’t ruin anything, any time I get to spend with you is worth every second, I don’t care if we’re having a snowball fight, walking dodger, if I’m taking care of you when you’re sick, honey I love it all, every little bit...”

You could feel tears well in the bottom of your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and hormones being thrown off due to feeling unwell. Chris managed to catch a few of the as the streaked across your rosy cheeks

“I love you and I will always do my best to help in any way I can, and that includes when you’re sick okay?”

“I love you too…okay, I’ll get better at remembering to ask for help, sometimes I just forget or don’t want too”

You laughed a little which caused a bright smile to appear on Chris’s face

“That’s why you got me baby, I’m here to remind you that it’s okay, now, you stay here, I’m going to run and grab some medicine, your heating bad, some tea and soup. We can hangout up here and just spend the rest of the day in bed, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect…thank you.”

He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead, taking a moment to pause and admire his favourite girl in the world, the girl he’d do absolutely anything for, you were an angel in his eyes

“No need to thank me baby, I gotta get my girl feeling better”

He gave your head one more kiss before getting up and heading towards the kitchen, the warm and fuzzy feeling spreading throughout as you took in just how loved you were when it came to Chris. Just as you were his favourite person, he was yours, he was the light to your days, and especially on a day like today, you were more than grateful for your sweet nurse of a boyfriend.

#chrisevans #chrisevansxreader #chris evans x reader #chris x reader #rueswrites #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x wife!reader

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sssammich · 4 months

Note

one word swan queen prompt: "Snow"

(see what i did there.... is it winter themed? is it Emma's annoying mother?? is it something unexpected from your galaxy writer brain???)

XD luv ya bestieeeeeee

lol no galaxy writer brain here but i do have an update to ritual fic.

if you wanna read on ao3

otherwise, here's ch 1

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Storybrooke, Maine is not exempt from the dirty piles of snow that accumulate after trucks go through the streets and plow them off the road. The snow is never ending, pouring out of the sky like a broken machine. For days now, fat flakes of snow descend from the heavens, blanketing any and every inch of whatever has been cleared the day before.

Still, Emma shoves her feet in her snow boots donning only loose black sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie before making her way to the garage to retrieve the snow shovel. She grips the shovel while the other presses the garage door button, the metal cranking of the door rising fills the quiet stillness of the morning. It squeaks and it screeches and Emma notes to herself to get some grease to put on there.

Carefully, she maneuvers around the parked Mercedes Benz and begins the first dig. She clears the path with a small ‘hup’ as she exhales and chucks the shoveled snow out of the way, a growing snow mound on the perimeter of the driveway. All too soon, she works up a sweat, her hands reddening from both the cold and the exertion, her breath visible as she tows herself back and forth.

Before long, she has cleared half of the driveway and is making her way towards the walking path to the front door. She quickly surveys her progress and wipes the sweat off her brow with the back of her sleeve. She doesn’t know how long it takes her to do this; only focuses on the way her muscles strain and stretch with each shovel, with each dig. It is as meditative as it is repetitive and it gives her body purpose despite the tempest of her thoughts.

She takes a small break and inspects her work thus far, her gaze not quite landing towards the front window where she can just make out a shadowy figure.

She returns to her task, her mind wandering once more. Emma is exploring unknown territory having accepted the offer to move into the mansion. She is happy to live in the same place as her son, the back and forth shuffling of shared custody taking a much deserved respite after all that’s gone on. She is happy to carve out space for herself instead of whittling herself down to fit whatever space is available.

She enjoys leaving work on time in time for regular dinners, happy to close out the workday at her desk knowing what waits for her at home.

All of these, she favors more than where she’d been in the past. The mansion is very much Regina’s house, without question, but she does not feel temporary, like an outsider, like a trespasser.

However.

However, what she struggles to contend with is the limbo space she has found herself in as of late. One that blurs the lines that she’d drawn for herself when she accepted Regina’s offer to make her temporary stay more permanent.

“It’s not too much of a leap, dear. But I won’t stop you if you need to find your own space. Just know that you have a place here,” Regina said, pausing her stirring of that night’s dinner and turning to face Emma sitting at the far end of the counters. She’d placed the spatula on the holder before docking her hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly and studying Emma. For her part, Emma tried her best not to squirm under Regina’s gaze.

“Alright. Can I let you know soon?” she asked, flashing a lopsided grin just as Regina smiled at her warmly in return.

“Whenever you want.”

So here she is now, heaving a large chunk of packed snow and swinging, until it hits the top of the existing snow hill and breaks into hundreds of tiny pieces. She grunts and breathes hard, resting against the ground and her arm against the handle. The walking path is clear now, and she can return to the remainder of the driveway.

Despite the cold weather, Emma has shed herself of her hoodie and wrapped it around her waist until all she’s left in is her black tank top. The cool, crisp air a welcomed sensation on her heated skin.

While she resumes shoveling the driveway, she doesn’t immediately turn towards the soft click of the door to the garage opening, nor the padding sounds of boots approaching.

She angles her body away just slightly under the guise of her shoveling efforts, waiting.

“Emma.”

She bites the smile threatening to swallow her face whole before she turns her head. Only when Regina comes into view that she draws herself back up, propping the shovel up and resting her weight on it. “Hey, morning. Oh, careful you don’t slip.”

She holds a hand up to catch Regina, if she slips or falls, but she never does. She is as graceful and poised on snow as she is on dry land.

“Thank you.” The corner of Regina’s lips quirk upwards, the scar on the top of her lip moving slightly. “Thought you might like to have some breakfast.”

Emma glances down to find a rolled pancake wrapped in wax paper in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other as Regina stands right in front of her. She observes that the coffee is the exact shade of brown she likes, no doubt from the perfect ratio of cream Regina has added. If she takes a sip now, she knows it'll have the right amount of sugar just to her liking.

She arches a brow at the offered food, but Regina shrugs, almost defeatedly. That brings an amused smirk on Emma’s face.

“Henry insists that the pancake is better this way. Something about syrup density.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” she says, slowly taking the food out of Regina’s hands. Without any more prompting, she takes a healthy bite.

Regina grimaces before sighing. “Please stop teaching our son terrible eating habits.”

“It can’t be terrible when it’s clearly genius.”

She continues scarfing down the rolled pancake, alternating sips with her coffee. Regina wraps herself in her arms, her focus shifting around her driveway, seemingly inspecting Emma’s work.

“You know, there’s more snow coming overnight,” she announces needlessly. Emma is more than aware that there is another week of heavy snow forecasted for them.

“I know.”

“Yet you still do it.”

“If I don't, who will?” she asks, testing. The answer, of course, is Regina will. If Emma didn't do it, Regina’s magic can easily melt all of the snow on her property before Emma can even think it.

It’s not about the snow. It's not about the magic.

“You’ll be late to work if you don’t hurry along.”

“It’s fine. I have it in with the boss. She won’t get too mad if I’m a few minutes late.”

“Is that so?”

She doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, she polishes off the now empty mug of coffee and places it back in Regina’s hands; the coolness of her knuckles grazing against the warmth of Regina’s fingers.

“I have it on good authority.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Just a feeling,” she shrugs.

Emma chooses to participate in the same song and dance with Regina if only to make sense of the steps she’s making—if it will lead to anything. If it will lead to anything more.

“I wouldn't be too sure of that.” Regina hums, thoughtful. Emma just offers her another toothy grin before returning to her task, flexing her arms just so as she shovels a particularly dense section of snow.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

Emma catches Regina from the corner of her eye and simply stands there without moving. She shovels three more times before she sees movement, Regina trekking back into the garage. She’s just about to fully turn to her shoveling when Regina glances back at her.

Wickedly, she smirks at Emma and waves her fingers.

A small rumble fills the air until a small avalanche of the snow on the roof drops straight down and covers the driveway that Emma had just finished clearing.

Her jaw drops, but she can’t get too upset when she hears the melodic lilt of Regina’s amused laugh filtering out from the garage and to her ears.

She takes a deep breath and starts shoveling again.

#swan queen #emma x regina #swen #chapter update #samfic #ok thanks for reading bye #replies #waknatious

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eating-plastic · 11 months

Text

Heart-Shaped Roller Rink: Roller Ricky x Reader

Warnings: A lot of tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, age gap (reader is implied to be in their early 20s, Roller Ricky is in his late 30s), some swearing, first kiss, a bit of city life slander (sorry for my city lovers), mentions of alcoholism, mentions of going to the hospital, Roller Ricky just pouring all of his trauma out to you (poor bby), Max being a good boy, probably cringy dialogue, probably an incorrect assumption on how transferring colleges and buying houses worked in the 80s, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 7910 Words

A/N: Yay, my first x reader fic! How fun! This may seem rough around the edges, but I’m still very happy with what I came up with. I’d like to thank all the 80s love songs I listened to that helped me with writing this lol. Anyhoo, I , like most Killer Frequency fans, absolutely fell in love with Roller Ricky, so I knew I had to write an x reader fic with him. See you!

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Ever since you were small, you’ve had a fascination with the simplicity of small town living, despite living in a large city your whole life. Anytime you and your family would go on a road trip, you’d always stop to get gas, eat, and just walk around the small towns you’d come across. You liked the architecture, the less stuffy air and streets, the people that radiated the friendliness of a greeting card. It was like walking into a whole new world that you always felt yourself longing for even into your adulthood. Still, you never really thought you’d ever truly live in one. The little job opportunities and often lack of colleges is what kept that simple life you wanted just out of reach.

That was until your roommate came back from her winter vacation with some news she had known you would love. While driving to a cabin her family had rented out, she drove through a small town that she knew checked all of your boxes of what you were looking for. You wanted to believe her, but you didn't want to get your hopes up in case it would just be another town you’d only live in when you dreamed. That was until your roommate showed you some polaroid pictures she had taken when she stopped for gas. Gallows Creek, she said it was called, and the best part: it had a college.

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To make a long story short, a bunch of back and forth phone calls and a bunch of paperwork being mailed later, your mission of transferring was 90% completed. Only one problem still remained: Where you were going to live. Well actually there was also the problem of getting a job, but you’d tackle that once you’ve found a place to live.

You have only ever gotten a couple of surprises in your life, but none of them and any of the surprises following will trump the one you got when you found out you would be able to own an actual house in Gallows Creek. Specifically, there were three houses on the market, all one story and all in pretty good condition. Your spring break was spent with Gallows Creek Realty looking at the houses yourself, because you honestly couldn’t believe that you really could own a house with your college student budget. You couldn’t even afford a tiny, dingy apartment in your home city with the money you had. Small towns apparently had the added bonus of having affordable, nice houses. Either way, a good deal was a good deal, and by the end of your spring break you had made your decision.

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The end of the semester felt like it took both forever and a mere second to arrive. You packed up as much of your stuff as you could in your car, putting whatever couldn’t fit in your parents’. You had picked a cute little house on Romero street. Not only did you like the house, but you liked the location too, finding yourself surrounded by possible job opportunities. Sure it was gonna be a bit of a drive to get to your classes, but considering that you didn’t have to worry about backed up traffic, you could handle it. As soon as everything was unloaded and you said your goodbyes to your parents, you slumped down in one of the chairs in the living room. Today you would just worry about unpacking, organizing, and most importantly relaxing.

Once you caught your breath and looked around the room at where your stuff could possibly go, you started unpacking. You got halfway through organizing your silverware in your new kitchen, when there was a knock at the front door. Upon opening it, you were face to face with a friendly looking, elderly couple.

“Hello there, dear,” the old woman started. “We had noticed you had just moved in and wanted to give you a warm welcome.”

You looked down and saw her offering you a small plate of fresh baked cookies.

“Oh, thank you!” you carefully take the plate from her old, weathered hands.

“We’re the Castevets,” the old man said, offering you his hand to shake. “Your neighbors on your right.”

You take his hand and introduce yourself before shaking his wife’s hand as well.

“So, what brings you to Gallows Creek anyways?” Mr. Castevet asked.

“Yes, it’s not a place many move to. Especially those as young as yourself,” Mrs. Castevet adds.

You had no problem providing them an explanation. You were used to explaining your love for small towns and how Gallows Creek had everything you wanted.

“Besides,” you conclude. “If everyone is as nice as you two, how couldn’t I move in?”

The Castevets laugh, before the husband of the duo reaches into his back pocket to find a small packet.

“You’ll find a couple of hardasses, but they’re few and far between. Here, for you,” he hands you the packet, which appears to be a brochure of Gallows Creek. Inside of it was a map with a description of each significant place your new home held.

“Thanks! I’ll definitely be needing this, tomorrow,” you smile at the couple.

“Well, I think we should leave you to continue unpacking. Just wanted to show you a bit of Gallows Creek hospitality,” Mrs. Castevet decided, her husband agreeing with her.

You said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once more to unpack, but this time with a plate of cookies and good spirits to keep you going.

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You had decided your second day in Gallows Creek would be spent getting acquainted with the town a bit. Mostly trying to find a job and get some groceries, but a bit of exploration wouldn’t hurt. You left with high spirits that only soared higher when the Castevets greeted you from their front yard garden.

Your search was…decent. It wasn’t terrible, I mean sure, only three out of the six places you had visited were hiring, and one of them was the Gallows Reporter which had one of the few hardasses that Mr. Castevet had mentioned, so that one was probably out, but still. You weren’t going to be discouraged, though. You look at the map you were gifted while you walked.

‘There’s still the supermarket,’ you thought. ‘I need groceries anyway. Let’s see…there’s also the library…KFAM-.’

“Woah woah woah, careful!”

A voice pulls you from your thoughts and your map as you quickly move out of the way. An older woman in bright aerobics clothes stops in front of you and continues to jog in place. Despite almost crashing into her, she still seemed cheerful.

“Careful there, dear. I coulda hitcha,” she said while still holding a smile on her face. “I don’t think I recognize you, stranger.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m new to Gallows Creek,” you hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ve tripped over more people than I can count. Anyhoo, I’m Sandra. It’s always nice to meet new faces,” after shaking your hand, Sandra looks down to the map in your hand, all while still jogging in place. “Oh, what are you looking for?”

“I’m just exploring the town a bit. Trying to find a job and all that-.”

“Oh, you’re looking for a job? Good! I’ve got a position just for you at my jazz studio! Come on!”

Sandra takes your hand before you can speak, and drags you down a block or two before you come face to face with a large, brightly colored building.

“There! Now let's see…I’m sure I can whip up all the paperwork you need! Then, we’ll-!”

“Sandra!” of course you are happy that she was so quick to offer you a job, but first you needed to get some things out of the way. “This is really nice of you, but what will I even do?”

“Oh, your job is simple. Let’s see…you’ll help keep the studio tidy, pick out songs to play for a session, decide routines, keep equipment organized and clean oh and you can even participate in classes absolutely free,” she counts off your potential tasks on one of her hands. “You’ll do fine. Besides, my hours are very flexible. You just give me a call, okay?”

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was just like you getting your house. There had to be a catch, right?

“Nope! No catch at all!,” Sandra exclaims. “Now, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself.”

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

It shocks you how an older woman like Sandra could have so much energy that makes even you feel exhausted. Still, she was a very friendly and even encouraging woman, which you found out when you had mentioned college. When you checked your watch and saw that it was three o’clock, you had to wrap the conversation up. On top of being high energy, Sandra could really talk about anything and everything. You told her that you would keep in touch with her, a.k.a take her offer. I mean, you weren’t going to pass up another good deal.

You would also rather have Sandra as a boss over that “hardass” at the Reporter.

Now, you are walking back home with two large bags of groceries in your arms. Sure, you would’ve been able to buy more if you had backtracked to your house for your car, but with it literally being walking distance, it seemed like overkill. Besides, you were saving money by only buying necessities and not getting gas.

As you walk up to your front door and set your groceries down to find your keys, you look up to the house on your left. You haven’t met that neighbor yet. After you put your groceries away, you’ll head over to see if anyone’s home.

You didn’t know what to expect with your other neighbor. You thought about who they could be as you put groceries away. You imagined that they’d be as friendly as the Castevets or Sandra. Then again, they could also be a total asshole. No, if Mr. Castevet was right, then the chances that they are a dick would be slim to none.

Well, only one way to find out.

With the last of your groceries put away, you head out your front door and walk towards the house. You don’t even realize that you are fiddling with your hands in a nervous manner.

‘What do I have to be worried about?’ you take a deep breath. ‘If they’re an asshole, then just don’t talk to them.’

The way you saw it, one good neighbor that always had your back would always outweigh the rude and antagonistic. You also knew that when you were nervous about something, it always arrived faster. Case and point, you were now on your other neighbor’s doorstep.

Whelp, here goes nothing. You raise your fist and knock three times.

The sound of a loud dog barking makes you jump, even though it doesn’t sound malicious. You hear a man’s voice on the other side of the door, but it’s too muffled to make out exactly what he is saying. Probably trying to calm the dog down if you had to guess. When the door opened, you were a bit taken aback.

Not in a bad way. Nope, definitely not in a bad way. In fact, you would have to say that the man you were now looking at was probably one of the most handsomest men you have ever seen. Short dark hair, a nice build from what you could tell from your peripheral, a nice face, and the one feature that had captured you the most: his dark eyes. They looked friendly enough, and yet they looked like they were concealing…something. You didn’t know what, but you did know that you loved staring into them…and that you had been staring for way too long.

“Um, hi, sorry. I just wanted to introduce my-woah!” your awkward rambling gets cut off when you feel a cold, wet nose nudging and sniffing your hand. You look down to see a large, but friendly staring dog looking back at you.

“Sorry about that. Looks like Max wants to say ‘hi’ back,” the man laughs nervously. You note that you like his voice. You reach your hand out to the canine, who closes the distance between it and his head. You scratch his ears, causing his tail to wag.

“That’s okay. Um, let me start over,” you introduce yourself properly this time, just saying that you’re his new neighbor who just wanted to say “hi”.

“Oh, right! Yeah, I wanted to walk over and introduce myself, but I had to take someone for his evening walk. I, uh, thought it was too late. I tried again this morning, but the Castevets told me you had left. Just my luck, huh?” he offers his hand out to you, which you shake. His hand was nice.

‘Jeez, was there anything about him that wasn’t nice?’ you wonder.

“I’m Ricky, but most folks around here call me Roller Ricky. Got it because of how often I’m at the roller rink,” he explains.

“Makes sense,” you say, smiling. “Does Max here have any fun names too?”

Ricky laughs, and you have to refrain yourself from thinking about how nice it sounds.

“No, not that I know off. I just call him ‘Maxy’. He should get a fun name, though. He’s even better at skating than me.”

“He can skate?” you ask, and instantly get the image of the big dog trying to move around with skates on his paws.

“Yep! I taught him everything he knows,” he beams before his face drops. He curses and spins around to shut his door that had still been open this whole time. He turns back to you and once again laughs nervously. “Sorry. Bugs.”

“Oh shit! Right, yeah. I, um, I should probably wrap this up,” you don’t want to leave, but the urge to be polite overrides it. You do have a small epiphany, though. “Hey, the roller rink? It’s nearby, right? Maybe I’ll swing by tomorrow. You know, to see Maxy skate.”

“Yeah, sure! That’ll be great. He loves to show off, don’t you boy?” the canine moves away from you and back to his owner to get some attention from him. You laugh.

“It’s settled, then. See you tomorrow, Roller Ricky. See you, Max,” you turn to head back home, causing the canine to whine in confusion at his new ear scratcher walking away.

“Yep! Be seeing you too!” and with that, Ricky reopens his door to usher Max back inside.

You didn’t even realize you were back in your house until the sound of the front door closing behind you roused you from your thoughts.

That truly couldn’t have gone any better.

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“Oh, good choice! That one’s always been a favorite of mine,” Sandra exclaimed at the album you pick out for one of her sessions, tomorrow. “Now let’s see….Oh, I haven’t done this routine in a while!”

Working with Sandra was as simple as she had described. It honestly just felt like you were working with a friend, even though you have only known her for less than 24 hours.

You showed up at the jazz studio that morning to accept her offer. You had to wait a bit as Sandra had a class going at the moment. Once it was done and everyone funneled out of the large gym room, you entered. Sandra was ecstatic to see you, and even more so when you accepted her offer. Now, you two were in her colorful office full of extra exercise equipment and albums on both cassette tapes and vinyl records. What was supposed to be you both coming up with the agenda for tomorrow's classes, was mostly just you and her talking. As such, you were constantly looking down at your watch to make sure you wouldn’t be too late with meeting Ricky and Max at the roller rink.

You’d be damned if you never saw Max on roller skates.

“I wouldn’t be too worried, you know,” Sandra smirks at your fidgeting. “He’s called ‘Roller Ricky’ for a reason. He and his dog are always at that roller rink even into the late evening. Besides, he’ll definitely wait up for a pretty little thing like yourself.”

“Sandra!” you blush at her words, but with how you talked about your interaction with Ricky yesterday, even a blind man would be able to see the crush you had on him.

“You know…if it really bothers you so much, you can just go make sure everything in the gym is organized and clock out. I’ll take care of the rest-ah, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Sandra cuts you off before you can object.

It feels wrong leaving after barely doing anything on your first day, but Sandra really wasn’t going to let you stay. With that, you walk to the gym, put a few things away in their proper places, and walk out the door.

One thing you had quickly grown to love about Gallows Creek was how close everything was. Even now, as you almost walk past the actual roller rink due to how lost in your thoughts you were, you still enjoyed it.

Walking through the front doors causes you to find yourself face to face with bright neon colors, upbeat music, and the collective chatter of all the people. You notice that there were a lot of families on the floor of the rink, telling you that this is a popular place for kids to spend their summer break. The thought makes you smile but also nostalgic.

“Oh, hey! There you are!”

A voice rouses you from your thoughts, and you look up to see Roller Ricky with a wide smile on his face and leaning on the fence that separated the entryway from the actual rink.

“You didn’t think I was going to stand you up, did you?” while it comes out as a joke, you really hope he didn’t actually think you were going to flake on him.

“What, you? Nah! You don’t seem like that kind of person.”

“You haven’t even known me for an hour, and you already know everything about me? Do you have a good judgment of character or something?” you quip.

“Eh…that’s debatable, but for the sake of the argument I’ll say yes.”

You laugh, until a furry creature on the rink floor catches your attention.

“No way,” you let out a laugh in disbelief. Turns out Ricky wasn’t lying at all when he said that Max could skate well. He was gliding in between adults and children alike as if he didn’t even have skates on, occasionally getting a scratch behind the ears here and there.

Ricky grins at your reaction.

“Did you think I was lying?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” you say, shaking your head. What you were seeing was both impressive and sad. Impressive because it was a dog roller skating as if it was second nature. Sad because a dog knew how to skate…and you couldn’t.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ricky reaches over to unlatch a gate next to him and opens it, gesturing for you to enter the rink floor. “Let's get you some skates and have some fun!”

“Wait, what? Ricky I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you stutter out due to the suddenness of you being pulled from your focus on Max.

“What’s wrong? Do you not know how to skate?” he cocks his head to the side.

“Um…yeah,” might as well be honest with him.

“Is that all? That’s nothing to be worried about! Come on, I’ll teach you!” he once again gestures for you to enter.

You glance back at the rink floor. There were a good amount of people. It wasn’t packed by any means, but still enough for you to potentially bump into or knock someone down. Not to mention all the people that would see you fall on your butt over and over.

And yet the reassuring look on Ricky’s face caused you to hesitantly enter. He latches the gate behind you before you follow him over to some benches.

“Alrighty, the first part of skating is easy: Tell me your shoe size,” the statement makes you laugh and almost melts your nerves. Almost. You tell him your size and remove your shoes to trade for your skates. He disappears into a small room next to the benches, however he quickly sticks his head back out to look at you. “Hey, second question: what’s your favorite color?”

You tell him and he disappears once more. A couple of seconds later, Roller Ricky reappears holding skates in both your size and favorite color.

“Voila! See, you’ve already got the first part of skating down.”

You laugh again. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad after all. You take the skates and put them on, being sure to fasten them tightly.

“Okay, you ready to go?” he beams.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…I guess,” you try to mirror his enthusiasm, but clearly it must not have looked convincing.

“You’ll be fine. This next part isn’t too difficult. You just need to work on your balance. Here, take my hands and just hang on, okay?” he holds his hands out, which you take.

Once again, maybe learning to skate wasn’t going to be that bad.

That thought only lasted a mere second as you stood up. Your legs instantly felt wobbly and your grip on Ricky’s hands only grew tighter.

“You’re okay. Just keep hanging on,” he gives you an encouraging smile before looking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t bump into anyone as he started to skate backwards.

Your legs still felt like Jell-O even with Ricky confidently gliding backwards. You could only imagine what you looked like to the other skaters. The scene of Bambi walking on ice came to your mind. Yep, you probably looked just like that. Even with your self depreciation on your lack of skating skills, Ricky still looked at you as if your legs weren’t as unstable as a newborn giraffe’s. Occasionally he would even tell you that you were doing fine.

After a bit of gliding, and a reassuring boost from Max coming to say “hi” to you, your legs felt sturdy and you began to feel confident in your skates. Ricky saw this new found confidence too, and felt that it would be time for you to master your next lesson.

“See, look! You got this part down to a tee! You wanna try to actually move now?” he asks.

After glancing around the rink and seeing that a couple of people had left, you made up your mind.

“You know what? Yeah! Let’s do it!”

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

By the end of the day and a couple of trips onto your butt later, you had gotten the hang of actually gliding from one end of the rink to the other. You still felt a bit clunky, but you considered the fact that you weren’t slipping anymore to be a victory. A lot of your confidence of course, had to go to Roller Ricky. He truly was a good teacher. Always encouraging you and treating every little bit of progress as an achievement. Even when you did inevitably fall, he had laughed at you, but not in a malicious way. It was always playful and he would calm your embarrassment by saying that everyone slips their first time around.

Now, you were sitting back on the benches untying your skates, feeling much better about yourself than you did when you first sat down.

“Now, what were you so worried about? You’ll be a natural in no time,” Ricky grinned while waiting for you to get your skates off.

“I owe that all to you. You’re a really good teacher,” you hand him your skates.

“Why do you think I charge people for lessons?” he joked while walking into the small room to get your shoes, but the tone was lost on you.

“Oh yeah, right, of course! Uh…how much do I owe you?” you called to him. He returned to you with your shoes, smiling and shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it a ‘good neighbor’ discount,” he winks.

‘How did I luck out and meet such generous people?’ you wonder.

Every effort to try and get Ricky to tell you how much you owed him fell on deaf ears.

“How about this,” he begins. “I’ll consider us even if you can buy a bag of jerky for me and Maxy to share from the vending machine. That’ll be your payment.”

You decide to take it. It was something. After all, Ricky deserved it for not only being a good teacher, but a nice person too. And Max was just always a good boy, so he deserved a snack as well.

You had learned a bit about Ricky while he was teaching you. You had learned that he played football in high school which explains his nice build, how he was still into the sport although now watching instead of actually playing, how he enjoyed occasionally going on long drives to nowhere in particular with Max, how he would occasionally jog with Sandra which would explain how she knew him, his favorite movie genre was comedy, he had a preference for spicy foods, and the most shocking revelation of all: he was in his late 30s. You thought he was in his late 20s at most from how young he looked. Perhaps you were just used to men his age being so worn down from the bustling life of the city.

Still, with everything he had revealed about himself, there was still something he was trying to protect. That didn't really shock you. Your…friendship, if that was the proper word, was still very new. While he did say he considered you a friend after you both talked about yourselves, you just weren’t used to making one so fast. If you tried doing that in your home city, people would think you were crazy.

With all the reflection you were doing on the day, you didn’t even realize you had put money into the vending machine near the front doors of the roller rink and got Ricky and Max’s jerky until you heard the sound of it hitting the slot. You grab it, before walking back. As soon as you are close enough to Ricky, you toss the bag towards him.

“Woah!” he grabs it, before smirking at you. “Thanks! Now enough of this ‘paying’ stuff, got it? This is good enough.”

At the sound of Ricky tearing open the bag in his hands, Max eagerly begins to glide towards his owner. Ricky scratches behind the canine’s ears, before asking him to perform a couple of tricks for a jerky strip. It amuses you greatly. However, as luck would call it, your stomach began to growl.

“Augh, I guess that’s my cue to head home and make some dinner,” just like when you first met Ricky, you didn’t want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I guess I have kept you here long enough, huh?” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I had fun, ‘teach’,” you quip, causing him to chuckle. “I’ll be seeing you two tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re not busy,” he nods.

You nod back to him, and feel the overwhelming urge to kiss him before leaving. Self control pushes the thought to the back of your mind just as quickly as it had popped up, though. You settle with giving him a smile, before turning and walking out the front doors. At least you thought you saw Ricky looking as disappointed about you leaving as you did too.

‘Damn you, stomach.’

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

You really loved the smell of ‘Rise and Shine Coffee’. It became common for you and Sandra to head there after her noon class. She claimed that she needed a bit of extra “pep” before her session at 2 o’clock. You enjoyed these little coffee breaks with her. Although, you really could take or leave trying to keep up with her as she always insisted on jogging to the coffee shop instead of a leisurely stroll.

It was August now, and your new life in Gallows Creek was still positive. Your relationships with Sandra, Ricky, and of course Max were still going strong. Even the Castevets never stopped being friendly towards you, occasionally bringing you leftovers from their dinner the previous night. Mrs. Castevet even made you some red, white, and blue frosted cookies for the 4th of July.

Unfortunately, you were going to have to prepare for your time with everyone to become limited. Classes were going to start up at the end of the month and you could feel the mix of excitement and nerves in your stomach. Maybe that's why you barely touched your muffin. It could’ve very well been untouched because the urge to confess your feelings for Ricky were starting to become almost unbearable, though.

“So let me get this straight,” Sandra begins. “You have had a crush on this man since the day you met him and practically see him everyday…and you still haven’t told him you are absolutely in love with him?”

“It’s not that easy, Sandra,” you take a sip of your beverage. “If I confess and he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll ruin everything. We’ll never be able to properly hang out with each other ever again. Besides…you really don’t think that the fact I’m kinda…younger than him is an issue?”

“Of course it’s not an issue!” Sandra looks at you as if you had said something absurd. “You’re pretty, you’re sweet, you’re attentive…you’ve got a great taste in music.”

Sandra continues to list off as many good qualities she could about you, before you cut her off.

“Sandra, I’m serious. I really, really like Ricky, and I really don’t want to ruin everything we have.”

“Hun, I have known Roller Ricky longer than you have. You confessing will not ruin everything,” she reaches across the table of the booth the two of you were sitting at and takes your hands, squeezing them reassuringly. She thinks for a moment, before a smirk forms on her face. “You know…I wouldn’t count on him not having a crush on you.”

Your eyes widen at that.

“What are you talking about?” you say, trying to not sound too hopeful.

“Don’t you remember? We go jogging every once and a while. And while we jog…he tells me a lot of revealing things,” she leans in a bit closer to you. “Believe me when I say this, hun. How he talks about you would make a person think that he was head over heels in love.”

“You’re…you’re sure about that?”

“Hm, I don’t know. Have I ever lied to you?”

She had got you there. Sandra was always honest with you ever since the day you had met her. Plus, her closeness with Ricky did make her claim hold some weight. You nod your head and sigh.

“You’ve got me there. So…you really think I should tell him?”

“You tell him, dear, and I’ll give you a raise!”

“Sandra…seriously?” you finally crack a smile.

“Mmhm, I mean it. You confess to him, oh let’s say…before your classes start up, and I’ll give you a 15% raise,” she holds one of her hands out for you to seal the deal. After staring at it for a bit and mulling over her offer in your head, you reach out and shake it.

“There! It’s settled then!” Sandra nods at you, before changing the subject entirely. “Now, let me tell you what I heard yesterday….”

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

You thought about Sandra’s offer the whole day, even when planning tomorrow's classes. You didn’t want to jump immediately to confessing that day, however you didn’t really know if you would get a better opportunity.

Instead of hanging out with Ricky and Max at the roller rink like always, he had decided to invite you over to his place for dinner. Sandra of course lit up when you revealed such vital information, and you had to tell her it was not a date, even though you really wanted to call it that.

Your brain was a battlefield of “should yous” and “should you nots”. You hated the back and forth and all the doubts. All the fear.

And Sandra was growing tired of it.

“There really is nothing to be afraid of, dear,” she repeats. “Besides, you really don’t have to confess, tonight. You’ve got the whole month don’tcha?”

“I...I know...but tonight would just be so...,” you trail off. Maybe just getting this off your chest as soon as possible would be best.

“It is rather romantic, isn’t it,” a small smile spreads across Sandra’s face. “I don’t think I have ever heard of Ricky inviting his friends over to dinner, before.”

“It’s still something friends do, though,” you sigh as you shoot the idea down.

“Oh, enough of that!” Sandra exclaims, completely done with your negativity. “If you confess tonight, you’ll leave his place, still his friend or something better. I don’t know how many more times I gotta repeat myself before you get it, hun, but I am being completely honest with you. Besides, the weight’s only gonna get worse and worse the long you wait. Now, tell me: which of those sound like the better outcome?”

You’re almost frozen on the spot at your typically happy-go-lucky boss snapping at you, but you know that it’s just her wanting the best for you.

“The...the first one,” you answer.

Sandra nods, before gently pulling you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m sorry for snapping, dear,” she begins. “But I know how badly you want to tell him, and I know how badly he wants to tell you. Ricky is as in love with you as you are him, hun. You have nothing to worry about.”

You stay in Sandra’s arms and continue to replay her words in your head. After repeating her words enough times, you are decided. You pull away from her, and look into her eyes.

“Okay,” your voice is barely over a whisper.

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

Your heart to heart with Sandra was very much appreciated. You had to admit, having that moment really helped her encouraging words pierce your mind easier.

By the time the clock told you to head over to Ricky’s, you felt gassed up and ready to go. Sandra yelled “good luck” to you as you walked away from the studio towards your neighborhood.

Now you were approaching Ricky’s house, with your chin still high and a smile on your face. After getting to his front door, you knock just as you did when you had first gone over to introduce yourself.

‘God, that feels so long ago,’ you reminisce.

Max began to bark eagerly from inside, and you could hear Ricky trying to calm him down before walking towards his door. He opens it and beams when his eyes land on you.

“Hey, uh, come on in,” he steps to the side to allow you to walk inside. “Thanks for coming. I, uh, I didn’t know if you were going to show up.”

“You didn’t think I was going to stand you you, did you?” you joke once more. This makes him laugh.

“Nope! Not at all!” he closes the door behind you.

Upon entering his house, you notice how the interior was arranged very similarly to your own, with the exception of the dog toys, leash hanging by the front door, and a large dog bed next to his TV.

Oh, and of course the large dog that was greeting you and trying to get you to scratch him behind his ears. You laugh and pet Max before you stick your nose into the air and sniff, catching the scent of something familiar to you.

“Ricky, are you cooking something?” you ask as he walks into his kitchen. He laughs, nervously.

“Well, do you remember how I asked you what your favorite dish was, yesterday?” he calls back.

You let out an incredulous laugh before moving from your spot in the entryway and walking into the kitchen, which was also laid out similarly to yours. The smell of your favorite dish only got stronger as you got closer to Ricky, who had his back to you as he checked the food. You lean against one of his counters and look at what he had prepared. The sight made your stomach growl.

“Now that looks good!” you grin up at him.

“Thanks. I, uh, I really wanted it to turn out perfectly. I even called Mrs. Castevet over to make sure.”

You giggle at that. You really didn’t know if it was possible for Ricky to get any cuter.

He reaches for a cabinet nearby and takes two dishes to put the food on. He opens his mouth to say something but Max’s whining causes his brain to change direction.

“Hey, uh, you don’t mind getting Maxy some supper too. His food’s in the big blue container there,” he nods his head over to where the container sat near a food bowl, water bowl, and a hungry Max.

“Nope, not at all,” you walk over to the canine and coo to him as you feed him.

While you feed and pet the large dog, Ricky places the two plates on his small dining room table. He then turns to get two glasses to fill with water.

You move from your spot near Max to sit at the table. Ricky came back with the two glasses, handing you yours before sitting on his end of the table.

You eat and compliment him on his cooking. The dish tastes almost as good as how your mother would make it, which impresses you.

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

The rest of dinner was filled with idle chatter here and there, with both of you talking about your days and anything else that came to Ricky’s mind. He was a bit similar to Sandra with how he could pull out random topics to discuss, and like with Sandra, it amazed you. However, he seemed to suddenly shift the conversation to a new topic or be vague about some things. You had noticed this change in how he conversed with you a couple of weeks ago. While it did have you curious, you never questioned him about it.

Now that dinner has come to the end, so has the positive energy. Ricky was deep in thought about something, and the dark eyes that had once hidden some type of pain were starting to reveal itself to you.

“Ricky, what’s wrong?” you look at him, worried.

He parts his lips as if wanting to say something, but shuts them. You watch him mull over what he wanted to say in his head, until he finally has it.

“I wanna talk to you about something,” he says, while standing up from his seat. You stand up as well, and follow him into his living room. He sits down on his sofa and you decide to join him. You look at him with concern in your eyes, waiting for him to speak.

He takes a deep breath before starting.

“I wanna tell you this because…because you have always been so honest and open with me and…I haven’t,” He swallows before continuing. “And that’s not right of me. You deserve me being open when you have told me so much about yourself and your life, the good and the bad.”

You don’t speak. You want Ricky to feel like he can let out everything he needs to. It’s quiet except for the clack of Max’s nails on the floor as he moves to rest his head on his owner’s knee.

“There was a period of my life that I’m not proud of. I had lost someone close to me…and for years I blamed myself for it. Some of what should’ve been the best years of my life were spent with me drinking the pain away. Even when I would get blackout drunk and wake up with hangovers that made me feel like I was dying, I still drank .That's, uh, that’s the thing about having a problem…you never truly realize how bad it all is until it’s too late,” Ricky closes his eyes, clearly remembering another harsh experience and starts to pet the large canine near him. You give him his time to recover, until he feels comfortable continuing.

“One of my old friends had visited me. Wanted to check up on me. God, I can only imagine what I looked like to him. I probably looked like a blubbering, drunken idiot….The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. According to my friend, I had passed out and was unresponsive. My breathing was shallow, too. He thought I was dying. Apparently I had to get my stomach pumped. Laying in that hospital bed, I probably did look like I was dead. My skin was pale and I felt exhausted. My friend was there, waiting for me to wake up. He told me that I had a problem and I believed him. It took me winding up in the hospital to realize I needed to get help...so that’s what I did,” slowly, the pain in his voice began to melt away now that he was entering better memories.

“It’s really amazing just how much talking with someone can help. People who are always there for you, even when you relapse…even when the withdrawals start to feel unbearable. I own each one of them for pulling me out of that dark period of my life, especially the one that recommended I get an emotional support dog. I, uh, I bet you can guess who that is,” he cracks a smile while looking down at Max, and you nod. “Eventually, I finally got my life together and I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since.”

You were speechless. Your tongue felt like it was made of lead. You took this time to process what you should say.

“Jesus, Ricky,” you say in the meantime.

“I just feel like you should know that. You deserve that after how…avoidant I’ve started to become with us talking. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve…,” he stops, not knowing how to continue. Fortunately, you knew what to say now.

“Ricky,” you take one of his hands into your own and wait until he turns his head to look at you. “You are very brave for not only going through all of that, but also telling me all of it. I’m happy that you trust me enough to open up, but I didn’t care that you weren’t revealing anything. I’m used to people being distant and private, so I respected whatever you decided.”

It’s true, you really didn’t care. You respected his decision of keeping something so personal private. After all, not many people in the city wore their hearts on their sleeves and broadcasted such things to others. Sometimes not even those they loved.

Your words dance in Ricky’s head and he glances away from you.

“You really are too good of a person, you know that?” he lets out a weak chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve a friend like you.”

“Honestly,” you begin, wondering if you should really go through with what you wanted to say. “I don’t think there is anything you can say that would make me stop being your friend. Especially not what you just told me.”

‘Oh God, I’m really doing this,’ you thought.

“You are a very sweet, funny, and patient guy, Ricky,” you’re really going to do this. “You have been a wonderful friend to me. In fact, I think you’ve been too good of a friend.”

Ricky looks at you confused, wondering where you were going with this.

“There really isn’t anything you can say that would push me away from you, because…,” whelp, here it comes. “...Because I am in love with you, Ricky….I…I think I have been since the day I met you.”

There it is, you finally admitted it. You finally got it off your chest. While you felt relieved to say it, you still needed to know Ricky’s response. The silence causes you to look down at your hands that are resting on your lap, and you begin to fiddle with them.

Eventually, all the waiting becomes too much.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I’ll be okay with that. Just please promise me you’ll still be my friend. Please,” you finally look back at Ricky, who had a surprised look on his face.

After hearing how small your voice was and seeing the pleading look in your eyes, he realizes that he should speak as well.

“I…you mean it?” he asks.

You nod, unable to find your voice.

“Well,” he begins. “Would you believe me if…if I said that I’m in love with you too.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Wha-really?”

“Yes,” before he cracks a small smile. “I have been ever since I taught you how to skate.”

You crack your own smile, back.

“That…that long, huh?”

Ricky nods.

You truly didn’t know a time that you’ve felt this happy. Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. Ricky chuckles at this and wraps his arms around you too. The two of you stay like that for a while, not wanting to let go for fear that this would all fade away, becoming nothing but a dream. After a while, you find something else you can confess.

“Can I tell you something else?” you ask, pulling away from him.

“Of course.”

“You obviously remember the day you taught me how to skate,” he nods, waiting for you to continue. “Well, when I had to leave to make dinner…I really wanted to kiss you before leaving.”

This causes his smile to widen.

“Really?” he asks.

“Mmhm, I did.”

“Well,” Ricky drawls, thinking about how to quip at that. “Do you want to have that kiss, now?”

You giggle and nod, slowly beginning to lean forward. He does the same, slowly leaning towards you until his lips touch yours.

As soon as this occurs, it feels like fireworks explode behind your eyes and electricity runs through your veins. You never thought a kiss could make you feel high.

Max looks up from where he was laying on the floor and wags his tail, sensing both his owner’s and your own happiness.

When the two of you have to finally pull away once more, Ricky rests his forehead against yours. You've never felt so content than you were now in his arms. You had to refrain from giggling at how Sandra was probably going to react to this when you tell her tomorrow. Why think about that though, when you need to savor the now. Especially when there were three little words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue, desperately wanting to get out.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#killer frequency #killer frequency game #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency game x reader #roller ricky #roller ricky x reader #first fic #x reader #rita writes

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Heavy Hearts Ch 4

Casey Novak x reader Warnings: language, some toxic family dynamics. Here we go, a little more background into yn's family and upbringing. Also, being the Canadian dumbass that I am, while I was originally writing this, I completely forgot that US Thanksgiving is in November, not October like it is up here. So if things seem weird timeline wise/how long these two have known each other or been together... that's why. I didn't catch it until I was editing LOL. oops.

After your first night together you were incredibly thankful that things weren’t that awkward, there were plenty of morning cuddles and shared smiles as you started to wake up, watching some mindless television as you stayed tangled in your sheets. Finally, Casey was very reluctantly forced to leave your bed, needing to go pick up one of her friends from the night prior who hadn’t made it back to the dorms. She left a very tender kiss on your lips and assured you that this wasn’t a one time thing.

A few days later while neither of you couldn’t stop thinking about each other you realized this was definitely going to be something that was more than just friends with benefits. You shared a lot of the same beliefs, perspectives, and always had each other’s backs when it came to helping each other out with school, studying, projects and the like. You weren’t totally sure, but you felt like you were good enough about reading her body language and the way she would blush around you, so you asked if she would like to get dinner the following week. Casey let out a small giggle, ducking her gaze as she said she would love to and both of you spent the rest of the day fretting over your real first date. Thankfully, things went splendid and you ended up back in your dorm with a bottle of cheap wine, laughing over a movie together before you very happily fell asleep in each other’s arms. You were basically attached at the hip from the first project you’d worked on and when a mutual friend asked if you were girlfriends that was all it took for you to solidify the title.

The weather got colder, a chill clinging to the air so heavily you could see your breath walking to morning classes, the days were shorter, your evenings usually spent curled up with Casey under thick fluffy blankets. Your activities always varying, most days were studying or working on papers while other nights were spent laughing and telling stories, or the more intimate nights where you explored each other’s bodies for hours on end.

Fall break came and went, celebrating with your group of friends so no one had to take time away from school. Everyone pitched in, bringing various food items, snacks, side dishes, far too much wine and beer and a few staples to eat while relaxing from the stress of studying. Once the long weekend was over it was time to focus on studying for exams, working on research papers and practically the only thoughts on your brains were of the law. You spent the night in the library with your group of friends going over old assignments and swapping ideas and theories before the conversation started to dwindle away from school work to the upcoming holiday season. You did your best to ignore it, burying yourself into your text book until Casey nudged at you and you realized everyone was packing up to leave for the night.

You gathered your things, linking your fingers with hers as you all said good night and the two of you began the walk back to your dorm. It was one of those balmy winter nights, where it was just warm enough to be comfortable, that you could enjoy being outside as the fluffy flakes of snow drifted down from the sky.

“You going home for Christmas?” Casey asked, glancing towards you and you let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t want to.”

“Are they really that bad?”

“Do you follow politics at all Case?” You asked with a laugh and she shrugged.

“Not unless I have to.”

“Well you should start, would help your career.” You let out a little huff, only continuing when she squeezed at your hand.

“So? Your dad’s a senator?”

“A republican senator.” You rolled your eyes, “and my mom is no better. She had a full fledged career as a journalist when they first met, she had dreams, goals, and she dropped everything to be the perfect little trophy wife. I like to hope that she didn’t agree with all of his views when they first met, maybe give me some kind of pull but they’re both so fucking…. Conditioned? I don’t even think that’s the right word.” You shook your head, feeling the build up of frustration rocking through your body “they don’t get the whole human rights thing. I’m honestly surprised I wasn’t kicked out and cut off when I came out to them. I think their only saving grace was that I identified as bi and they thought they could thrust a man on me and I’d fall head over heels and forget about how much better women are.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a groan as you stalled in your step, turning to face her, your free hand reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly, “I would absolutely adore getting to take you home to meet them, getting to shove it in their faces that they’re wrong, that I’m not going to be some white picket fence wife…”

“But…?.” Casey raised a brow and you sighed once again.

“I’ve been barred from ever bringing a girl home if I want to hang onto my trust fund. I know, pretentious. But I don’t exactly have much time to work around school hours, I dunno how you managed to do it.”

“They’re really that homophobic?”

“My brother isn’t.” You shrugged, “and I honestly don’t think they are, they could be, but they’re so fucking worried about appearances. Dad’s always deep into passing the bills and laws that prohibit rights to people like us that I think he’s scared about having someone as close as I am opposing them, especially as I start to work in the law community. I think he’s worried about me bringing a girl home and like paparazzi catching us together and causing a whole like, controversy.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah… so no, I don’t exactly plan on going home for Christmas.” You let out a little sigh as you finally returned to the dormitory, turning to Casey, “what about you? Your parents are in New York, right?”

“Yeah.” Casey smiled softly, waiting for you to unlock the door and do the quick check that your roommate was indeed gone, before she spoke again considering the later hour. “I know it sounds super cheesy but we love to do the whole tourist type thing at Christmas. Markets, Times Square, Rockefeller Center”—

“Rockettes!?” You turned to her with an adorably very excited expression on your face and she chuckled softly, pausing to steal a kiss.

“Yes.” Her bag and coat found a home in a spare chair, “and if we’re up to it we do the whole ball drop on New Year’s. If not, it’s off to the Hamptons house for a couple of days.”

“You own a Hamptons house?” You raised a brow, stripping out of your coat and chucking it to the laundry pile.

“Yeah.” She laughed.

“And you called me little miss rich pants.” You teased with a scoff, starting to pull off your clothing to replace them with cozy sleep options, tossing Casey her usual preferred garments as she did that same.

“Oh, okay.” She laughed, “so a Hamptons house equals rich nowadays?”

“Well it doesn’t exactly mean you’re struggling to make rent.”

“Remind me again, how big was that house you grew up in?” She smirked as you turned back to her.

“Like, eight bedrooms?” You practically winced as you turned back to her and she laughed.

“Didn’t you have a pool and an entire guest house?”

“Pool yes, guest house was demolished when I was in high school to make more space for the fancy gardens my mom wanted.”

“And how many housekeepers?” Casey asked with a laugh and you let out a half annoyed huff, dropping down onto your bed as you tossed the blankets back, slipping underneath them.

“Too many to count.” You grumbled, “to cut to the chase, we’re really fucking rich, okay Case? But that doesn’t mean I like it. That doesn’t mean I want that lifestyle, that life, I’d much rather just be happy and with the people that I actually truly care about.” You missed the way Casey’s expression softened, the bright grin breaking out on her cheeks as she tugged on the hoodie before dropping down onto the bed beside you, her hands grabbing at you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you to her.

“You really care about little old me, hey?” She asked before kissing you and you let out a small laugh.

“Yeah…” you felt your cheeks heat, “I really do.” You smiled into the next kiss she stole, “I never thought I’d meet someone at school who made my world complete, but it turns out I did and I don’t care what my family thinks because I know they’re wrong, you’re all I need.”

“God you’re so fucking adorable.” She kissed you once again, “and I don’t give a fuck about where you came from, or what kind of bullshit your family is, all I want is you.”

“I adore you.” You replied with a dopey grin, wrapping an arm around her as the two of you nestled into the pillows, burrowing into the blankets before falling into a very happy sleep in each other’s arm’s.

The next morning Casey called her parents, happily checking in and catching up for nearly an hour before the upcoming holiday came up. She’d already told them about you and they were more than excited to know that you were still going strong and cared about each other so the obvious answer was yes when she asked about bringing you home for Christmas. You were expected the regular slew of push back, being reminded that you would be sleeping in a guest room, or a hint of distaste because you were a woman, but the phone was put on speaker only a moment later. The Novak’s immediately asking if you had any allergies, what your favourite food and drink options were, if you’d been to New York before and what were the must do’s that they would schedule for the four of you. Casey’s mom began to excitedly chatter about getting Casey’s room set up, saying she would make sure there were lots of extra blankets and pillows for the two of you and you cast Casey a surprised glance that she laughed off, leaning in to kiss your cheek before continuing the conversation.

You on the other hand, waited until Casey had disappeared to the gym to call your own parents, knowing that the conversation wasn’t going to go as smoothly. You opted to call the house landline, figuring that maybe you would get away with just leaving a message either on the machine or with one of the housekeepers. You paced through your room while the line rang, letting out a low breath when your mom answered.

“Vanderbilt residence, Caroline speaking.”

“Hey, it’s me.” Your pacing stopped but you dropped down onto the bed, fingers toying with the phone cord nervously.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s so good to finally hear from you! We missed you at Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, didn’t really have enough time to come home with all the studying and stuff.”

“Well I’m glad exams will be done soon; I’ll have Larissa start setting up your room.”

“Uh… there isn’t any need for that…”

“Oh come on now, I know you’re focussed on school but you can’t stay there all by yourself over Christmas! If you don’t want to deal with the airport crowds I’m sure the Lexington’s wouldn’t mind us using the jet.”

“Mom!” You groaned, having to cut her off, “I won’t be alone, and I won’t be staying in Cambridge, I wanna go to New York.”

“Hold on, your father just got home.” She didn’t even hear what you’d said, and you let out another frustrated groan, collapsing back onto the bed behind you as you heard her say something to your dad before the line beeped and you knew you were on speaker.

“Well hey there chickadee, what a nice surprise this is.” His voice rang through the line and you grimaced at the nickname he still stuck with.

“Hi dad.”

“Now what were you saying? You want to go to New York over the break?” Your mom asked and you quickly veered from your original plan while still staying on topic.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to spend a Christmas there and it doesn’t hurt to start to make connections in the legal community out there now, be a step ahead of everyone else when we graduate, right?”

“That’s my smart girl.” Your dad beamed, “I’ll email you information for my contacts out there, maybe even get you set up interning at a defence firm out there over summer.”

“Yeah, that’d be great but I don’t want to work defence.”

“What on earth do you mean?” Your mom asked and you let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Firm experience is fine but I want to help people not support criminals, you should know this already.”

“I really think that’s going in the wrong direction there chickadee, but you’ve still got two years left, there’s more than enough time to change your mind.”

“Sure.” You surrendered, “I am still only a semester in. So is it okay that I’m missing Christmas this year?”

“Well who are you going with?” Your mom asked, “Ethan said you started dating someone?” For fucks sake, your brother just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, could he? “You know, he and Sarah are getting pretty serious.”

“Yes mom, I know.” You knew she would end up on way too much of a tangent if you didn’t cut her off.

“We just need to know who you’re staying with.” Your dad cut in, “I don’t see any hotel charges on your credit card?”

“I’ll be staying with the Novak’s.” You let out a huff, “Benjamin and Grace if you feel the need to do a full search.” You rolled your eyes, knowing just how your parents were, you knew it was technically for your safety but they were just a little too invasive, and always had been.

“Benjamin Novak, why does that sound familiar?” Your dad asked and you could practically hear the wheels turning through the phone, “was he military?”

“Yes.”

“Wait… I remember meeting them at a few parties.” Your mom interrupted.

“Yes, Caroline you’re right. But they only had a daughter.” There was an awkward pause where you knew you parents were doing their best to have a silent conversation, “chickadee, are you trying to tell us you’re dating this Novak girl?”

“Well the point of this phone call was to ask if I could go to New York for Christmas, but now I guess it’s this. So yeah, I am.”

“Well I guess you can, because you know the rules, she can’t come here. And chickadee you better watch out, there’s lots of paparazzi in the city, you better behave yourselves and not be all over each other, I don’t want the tabloids blowing up with anything.”

“Preston.” Your mom scolded, “she knows, you don’t need to remind her.”

“Thank you.” You muttered though you were sure she didn’t hear it, there were sounds of hushed arguing on the other side of the phone before it beeped again and you knew your dad had stormed off and you were off speakerphone.

“Is this girl at Harvard with you?”

“Yes. Here for law, same year as me.”

“And I suppose if the Novak’s were at a party we were they’re a respectable family?”

“Yes. Got a house out in the Hampton’s and everything.”

“As long as you’re safe out there and you’re happy I suppose that’s all that matters. We will miss you at Christmas though.”

“Thank you mom.”

“Shame though, those Lexington boys… Archer just got married, I think Brock was hoping to spend some time with you over the holiday, we’ll have to wait for summer.”

“Did we not just talk about me interning in New York over the summer?” She didn’t hear you, or at least she pretended not to, continuing to ramble on.

“Maybe Brock would want to go out to New York with you! I mean, I’m sure this thing with this Novak girl is just a college phase, you’ll grow out of it, you’re just lonely.”

“I’m hanging up.” You deadpanned, dropping the receiver down and you let out a loud groan, running a hand over your face.

It had always been like this. Your dad would completely ignore it and pretend it wasn’t happening, warning you to not damage his or your own reputation, though that applied to more than just dating girls. You weren’t allowed to drink in excess, you’d gotten strict warnings about never doing drugs, if you were to ever be in the spotlight or papers it was to be in a positive light only. You’d been doing charity work since you were fourteen, but only if there were cameras around, you had to be at every gala and fundraiser possible. And thanks to your dad’s rules you were either to appear alone, or with a male chaperone, your parents seemed to have picked out Brock Lexington for that and still weren’t giving it up all these years later.

Your head rolled towards the door at the sound of it opening, a dreamy smile taking over your cheeks as Casey entered the room, flashing you a dazzling grin.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You pushed yourself up to sitting while she tucked her gym bag into the closet before joining you on the bed.

“You get the go ahead for Christmas?”

“I did. We are all good.”

“Amazing.” She beamed, “it’s gonna be so great.” She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she took in the way your shoulders were slumped over, the slight feel of defeat hanging thick in the air, “what?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, smiling across at her, “I’m just really glad I met you.”

“Me too.” She smiled back at you, figuring if something was wrong, you didn’t want to talk about it right now and she wasn’t going to push it, you’d say something when you were ready. Instead she simply leant in, kissing you tenderly, letting out a happy hum at the feeling of your lips curving up into a smile against hers. You were happy with her, and that was all that mattered.

_______________

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