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#oh and this is her a little older i feel like when she was younger she would wear a lot of brighter colors and peak y2k fashion
li0nn3stuff · 2 days
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Kiddo
Chapter six
Kiddo masterlist
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader
•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of bullying, fingering•
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“Have you seen him?” The girl says excitedly to her friend, looking at the new year boy.
“Yes! What do you think happened to his eye?” She responded giggling.
“I don’t know, but whatever it was, if it left such a scar, it must have been really bad.”
“I kinda like the eyepatch though, it makes him sexy…” The girl smirked as she looked intently at the boy with silver hair passing by the hallway.
“Oh, he’s hot. I would totally fuck him.”  The girl smirked in return.
“I’d rather have him fuck me. I have a feeling that he is crazy good.”
Two months after the encounter.
Aemond smirked, looking at his phone, his girl had been texting a lot, since they’ve been friends.
Surely, it’s not how he would have liked to have her, but if nothing, Aemond was patient.
He had his own plan to get his girl only to himself.
On his side, he had his advantage.
She kept texting him about douchebags making fun of her at school.
Some, that he would have loved to rip apart with his bare hands.
Like the guy that was on a date with her, or the girls she was with the day he first saw her. They just wanted to humiliate her somehow. He reassured her with his own stories, advising her how to act on those occasions.
All lies.
He was the popular boy when he was young, despite what he feared as a child, when his scar was still fresh, his marked face brought him nothing but popularity and girls.
Boy’s feared him, the mix of his stoic face, scar, and powerful family apparently intimidated the others.
He lost his virginity pretty soon, and he never stopped fucking ever since, his last year in high school he even fucked in the teacher room, without getting caught.
He fucked a teacher once.
He was a fucking king in in school. He was the one humiliating others whenever he wanted to.
But she didn’t need to know that, did she?
He was only doing her a favor, offering er his comprehension, his help.
There was no way she could find that out anyway.
-I could come to visit you at work?-
He  smiled at the new text on his phone. God, she was just perfect. 
Aemond was her only friend, and that always made her so eager.
She texted him a lot, day and night, she asked to see him more than one time a day, and if he couldn’t, she then asked if she could facetime him, or at least call him.
He liked the calls, he had the freedom to be hard rock or even fisting his cock as she spoke. He rarely accepted video calls, but sometimes he took the risk, she was just so innocent, he could do everything anyway.
“There were a few tomatoes.” She smiles happily as she turn her phone to show him her little garden, bending down to get at the same level of the plant, making the cleavage her large chemise more evident, he caught a glimpse of her bra, holding those breasts he would want to squeeze in his hands, as he slipped his cock between–
“Can you see?” She asked excitedly. He cleared his throat and nodded, as he brushed his cock with his hand.
“Yes, I can see.” He answered. She smiled even more and stood back up. 
“Rory says he wants a salad with my tomatoes.” She says as she looks down to walk without stepping on any plant. Rory was one of her foster brothers, he was five, and greedy.
“Of course he does.” He answered as he carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing down the fly. He sighed silently, when he didn’t have his breeches restrain his cock.
She chuckled at his remark, looking up at the phone, at him. He felt a rush of adrenaline, lust, going up his spine then straight to his cock, at her looking at him, oblivious of his actions.
“I could bring you some salad at work for lunch, if you want to.” She proposed.
“Mh… What are you wearing, you could get your clothes dirty in the garden.” He slipped his hand in his boxers, caressing directly his cock, letting out a small groan.
“Don’t worry, today I just came to check.” She raised her phone up her head, so her entire figure would be visible on the screen. She was wearing a big white men's button down shirt, and a long wavy white skirt. Her hair was loose and wavy due to the braids she kept during the night.
“So what do you say?” She asked again. Looking at him.
“Another time, kiddo. Tell me about your day.” He leaned back in his chair, his office door was locked, but it was early anyway, so he tugged his boxers down as she started speaking.
-You want so much to see me at work?-
He texted back, smirking to himself. He would have loved to show her around, his pretty girl, have her watching him while he works.
Smell her scent in his office, her real scent, not that vanilla shit he bought.
-You say you work in a high lever of one of the skyscapes, I want to see it! :) -
She texted quickly back, and he chuckled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. Did she light the height? He could have brought her to the heavens, if she would just ask him.
-You’re supposed to be at school, kiddo, why are you texting me?-
-Texting you is funnier.-
He groaned as he saw her text, putting aside his phone, and trying to force himself to ignore the urge to go to her school, find her class and fuck her on her table with the whole class looking at them.
He could picture it so well.
How she would ask him to go somewhere else because she’s shy about her body, and mostly because she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.
She would beg him so sweetly, looking at him with her eyes, glossy from tears. And how could he have stopped at such a sight? 
-So? Can I come visit you?- 
His phone turned on at her text. He looked at it for a while, then he decided to finally text it to her.
-My place is at a higher level. You want to come there?-
He could feel his heart in his throat as he stared at his phone screen. When she started typing, he felt like fainting.
-Deal, time?-
He wanted to jump from his chair and scream. He had her.
He was going to have her in his apartment.
He chuckled, thinking of how he could turn this story into some kind of Raperonzolo’s story, lock her in his apartment, maybe even tied to his bed.
So he could worship her naked body from the moment he came home, untill he left, first with his tongue, then his fingers, and then he would finally fuck her to madness.
He honestly didn’t know why she trusted him.
He was only getting worse since he met her. 
He stalked her less, that is true, but only because she gave updates to him herself. 
To be fair, he kept stalking her the first few days, but only to be completely sure his girl would never lie to him.
And she never did.
Because she was his perfect good girl.
He was trying really hard to wash the smirk away from his face as he drove to her school. He just couldn’t. 
He was going to have her in his apartment, just him and her. 
He risked a hard on every time he thought about it, his mind playing infinite scenarios of how he could take her, trick her, use her, and she wouldn’t even realize it, she would think it’s completely normal.
He had to take lots of deep breaths, in order to contain all those freaky, but tempting thoughts.
He will be kind, gentle.
Just for her, he could do it.
Well, he could try.
He hoped.
He parked close to her high school and texted her that he was waiting for her describing his location so it would have been easier for her to find him.
He saw her approaching him a few minutes later, and he leaned to open the passenger door for her.
As much as he would have liked to get out of his car, greet her with a small kiss on her head perhaps, he couldn’t risk it. 
His… unusual appearance always made him pretty noticeable, he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him, nor recognise him.
She quickly slipped inside his car and sat on the passenger seat. Smiling softly at him.
“Ehy.” She said, looking briefly at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her eyes, that had a hint of sadness in them.
“What happened, kiddo?” He asked, feeling a hint of rage burning in his chest at the idea that she had probably been bullied again. She shook her head as she put on her belt.
“Can I tell you later? I– I just want to go away from here…” She mumbled, her cheeks already getting red from embarrassment. He hesitated a moment, looking at her, unsure if to insist or just drive off.
He sighed and looked away, turning on the engine and driving off.
“I… suppose your day at school was not easy.” He muttered, glancing at her. She was staring outside the window, enjoying her view.
“No, actually not, it wasn’t.” She said softly.
“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t want it to sound so much like a harsh order, but apparently, he just couldn’t help it.
“It just feels strange to tell you in person now…” She tried to switch the main subject. “I’m so used to telling it to you by phone or call, it seems almost… strange in an intimidating way to tell you now in person. “ She explained. Aemond sighed as he nodded, trying to be comprehensive, even if he just wanted her to just tell him what happened. He drove off a bit faster, trying to get home as quickly as he could.
She was wearing one of her usual skirts, white, long to her ankles, and a thigh white shirt, but with a black cardigan over it, some black boots at her feet.
He wanted to put his hand on her thigh, squeeze it, and feel the softness on her skin.
“What do you want for dinner?” He asked then, his eye constantly on the road, he won’t force her to talk now, he will do it in his apartment, when she’ll be more comfortable.
“Whatever you’ll like will be fine.” She smiled softly at him.
“Would you rather order a take out?” He asked then, and he saw with the corner of his eye that she shook her head.
“Oh, no, why? We can cook for ourselves!” She said he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Oh, well, if you… I mean, we can go buy groceries if we need to, or–”
“No, it’s fine, I have everything.” He cut off short. 
“Then we can cook, we can make something basic, quick… I’m already hungry.” She smiled and chuckled. He nodded, his mind picturing them cooking.
Like a couple. 
She would be by his side, chopping some vegetables, he would pass behind her, tease her with some kisses on her neck, pressing her against the counter.
He would press his head against the back of hers, looking down as he pushed his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She would whine sweetly, so innocently, as he would start grinding against her, his hands quickly wrapping around her, caressing her belly and going down to– 
“Even pasta is fine.” She said again, leading him out of his thoughts. He cleared his voice as he moved on his seat, adjusting his position, as he felt his cock twitch.
“Pasta it is.” He agreed. She smiled again and went back on looking outside her window, as they approached his building. He parked the car and led her inside to the elevator. He didn’t try to stay too close, nor wanted his doorman to suspect anything, especially, because it would be the first time he saw him get in his apartment with such a girl at such an early hour.
Thankfully, she was too engrossed with the luxurious hall to actually talk to him, so they could pass for almost strangers, but then he led her to the elevator.
“What floor are you on?” She asked curiously, looking at the amount of buttons in the elevator, hovering her finger over them.
“Twenty two.” He said, and let her push it for him.
“It must be quite a view!” She said surprised, turning to look at him. His lips curved in a somewhat smile, as he nodded.
“Yes, it is indeed.” She smiled softly and waited for the elevator doors to open, jumping up and down on her tiptoes, impatient.
Once they got there, they entered his apartment.
“Wow!” She immediately commented. 
His house was quite modern, most of the walls were wide windows that gave a sight of the city, an open space for his living room kitchen and dining room, his bed and bathroom separated by a hallway. His house was modern, luxurious and elegant.
“Do you live here?” She asked as she watched around, mesmerized by the place.
“I do.” He asked, pleased by her reaction. She stopped and looked at him.
“It’s lovely. shall we cook now?”
As they ate, he tried to make her feel as comfortable as he could in his own house. Small chats were not really his thing. Chatting wasn’t his thing, unless it was for business.
“What happened today at school, kiddo? You still haven’t told me.” He asked as they moved from the table to the couch.
“It’s embarrassing.” She admitted as she rubbed her arm and sat on the couch in front of him.
“You’re embarrassed of telling me?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her. “You can tell me anything” He sat back comfortably against the arm of the couch. He looked at her as she looked down and started playing with her fingers.
“We had a different lesson today at school…” She starts, and he calmly looks at her, letting her take her time to tell him. “We– we had a lesson about sexual education, and–” She took a deep breath, as Aemond felt that hot feeling on his chest again, anger.”Some of my classmates looked at me, laughing quietly, I– I don’t know, exactly why… but…” She paused again, and kept playing with her fingers.
“But?” He asked, leaning forward.
“But I–I think I can guess why? I– I mea, I’m not… really uhm– I have never.. I’m not familiar with… touch.” He felt like chuckling, but he dared not, especially considering the color of his girl’s face at the moment, red as a tomato.
“Touch. Touch like…?” He asked, a bit confused. She quickly shook her head.
“No, I mean, I obviously get touched! I–” She sighed and shyly put her hand on her arm, trying to prove herself. 
“Sexual touch?” He asked then, staring at her hand on his arm. He heard her gasp, and he raised his gaze at her, seeing her so red, he thought she would pass out.
“... yes…” She answered, ashamed.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know, kiddo?” He looked at her and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You just need the right man, when you’ll feel ready.”
“I can0t really trust someone now, can I? I– I mean, I would like to… try new things, kiss someone maybe, but… how, how can I find the right person? You’re the only one I trust!” She pressed her hand on her face, and he smiled briefly.
“If you trust me, I can… help you?” He suggested. He knew she would have never thought bad about what he just said, but he had a clear plan in his mind. She looked at him between her fingers, surprised.
“Help… me?” She repeated.Aemond nodded again.
“You said you trust me.” He stated, and she nodded again, taking her hand off her face. “Then trust me now. Come, kiddo.” He sat right on the couch, and widened his legs, indicating her to sit between them. She looked at him for a moment, trying to understand if he really expected her to do it or not, but seeing his seriousness, she slowly stood up, and moved with her back in front of him, looking behind her as she sat on the couch between his legs.
“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to, okay kiddo?” He murmured in her ear from behind. He saw on the back of her neck and shoulders her goosebumps. “Just know… I’m doing this for you.” He put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her softly, letting his fingers trace imaginary lines on her soft skin, enjoying the contact for himself. He went down to her forearms and arms, ending on her hands.
She turned her head to the side to see him, her mouth slightly parted.
“Answer me, kiddo, I need your words.” His voice hoarse, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.
“O–okay…” She nodded as she uncertainty leaned her head back against his shoulder.
“This fine for you?” He asked as he kept brushing her fingers up and down her arms. She nodded again, closing her eyes. He slowly moved his fingers from her hand to her thighs, just caressing her from over the skirt.
He heard her take a deep shaky breath.
“I’m gonna show you how a man should make you feel, kiddo, okay? If he doesn't, you'll leave them.” He ordered in her ear. She looked again at him, her eyebrows furrowed.
“You can trust me, kiddo, I’m just helping you, you know?” He slowly started raising her skirt. “I’m doing you a favor.” He kept repeating, as he lifted her skirt over her thighs, as she kept staring at him.
“Wh– what do you want to do? Aemond– I…” She started breathing heavily, squeezing her thighs together.
“It’s okay, kiddo, just close your eyes, you’ll feel good, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He brushed his lips against her ear, and he felt her shiver. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to his chest.
He looked down at her thighs, so soft and thick.
He brushed his hands over them, keeping his other arm secure around her waist.
“Relax, kiddo.” He whispered, as he slipped his hand between her thighs, finally.
He could feel his cock twitch in his breeches, begging for attention, touch. He groaned and ignored his urges, concentrating on her.
He slowly opened her legs, so that he could move his hand more freely, she didn’t resist him, she completely trusted him.
She shouldn’t be.
“Do you like this?” He asked as he looked at her face, her eyes closed. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
“I’m going to make you understand why people like to touch each other, okay? Will you let me?” He asked as his fingers briefly brushed against her panties.
White cotton, like boxers for girls.
It was so different from all the other panties he had always seen, lace, lingerie, thong.
He always hated unsexy undergarments, yet, the sight of it only increased her sweet innocence, and turned him on even more.
He pressed his thumb against her clothed bud, making her jump back against him, he tightened his arm around her waist and kept her still.
“Shh, shh it’s okay, you like this, it’s okay.” He groaned as he kept pressing his thumb on her bud, slowly moving it from side to side.
“Aem– It’s strange, I– What…” She mumbled as her breathing only grew heavier.
“Calm down kiddo, enjoy it, you like it.” He kept repeating as he kept moving his thumb on her. She threw her head back on his shoulder again, letting out a strangled whine, her hand opening and grabbing his thigh, digging his fingers on his skin. He smirked as groaned softly.
“You like this, kiddo, just relax.” He moved his hand away, and he played a moment with the band of her panties, slowly moving his fingers beneath it, so she could have the time to stop him.
She didn’t, she didn’t, and there was no way he would have stopped now.
He was going to take what belonged to him.
He traced the line of her slit, as she squirmed a bit, whining.
“It’s okay, kiddo, I got you.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, as he moved his fingers again over her slit, feeling how his fingers were getting wet. He smirked again and kissed the top of her head. He pressed his thumb on her bud, as he kept working one of his fingers over her entrance, just teasing her, despite how much he wanted to slip it in, feeling how tight she was, her untouched walls struggling to accommodate one of his fingers.
“You're ready for more, kiddo? Do you want more, more pleasure?” He whispered in her ear. Ste turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shining due to the tears gathering in them, her breathing growing irregular and heavier.
“Aemond… this is strange…” She whimpers as she squirms again, trying to escape the pressure of his thumb on her pearl.
“You want me to stop?” He asked. “You like this, so why do you want me to stop, mh?” He slipped his finger inside, just half of it, and she moaned loudly, surprised, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, holding onto it for dear life, as she kicked her legs, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her secure against him.
“Aemond– Oh–” She moaned again as he slowly started to move it in and out, not pushing his finger in completely.
“Lay back, enjoy kiddo.” He pushed her back against his chest, and she bent her head back further, her legs bending and opening wider by themselves.
“Aemond… please, it’s so strange–” She let out a choked moan, arching her back. He smiled at seeing her so out of control for a mere finger, his mind wandering, imagining how she would scream if it would have been his cock instead.
“You do not like it?” He looked closely at him, how her face contorted at every single move of his finger. She shook her head. “Use your words, kiddo, I want to hear it.” He ordered, speeding up the movements of his fingers, pushing it deeper, searing for that sweet spot inside her. When he saw her moan again and tried to close her legs, he knew he had found it. She moaned again out loud, her mouth open as she tried to breathe in.
“Say it, kiddo. Tell me. Do you like this or not?” He placed his other hand on her knee, opening her legs again.
“Aemond…” She whined as she turned her head, pressing it against his chest, as she clenched her hands on his shirt, desperately trying to hide herself.
“Stay with me, kiddo, tell me what you feel.” His hand kept working that spot inside her, as his thumb bruised against her pearl, he felt her walls clenching on his fingers.
“I…” She cried out as she tried to hide her face further in his chest. “It… it feels… good.” She moaned again.
“That’s right, it feels good mh?” He groaned as she squirmed again and her body rubbed against his cock. “Fuck–” He growled, he was hard rock, and despite his cock was yearning attention, e was trying to only concentrate on him, even if it was fucking hard.
“Aemond… it feels really good– but so strange, please… I– I don’t know what’s happening… I feel so tense, ah!” She  started squirming uncontrollably, her face red, and shiny by a soft layer of sweat as her walls spasmed around his finger, as she came in a loud moan. Her breathing fast, irregular, her face relaxed, her body limp, resting completely on his. He moved his fingers for a few more moments, trying to help her riding out her strong orgasm, but he stopped as he saw a hint of discomfort on her face. He slowly pulled his fingers out, as she rested her face on his chest, her eyes closed, he licked his fingers.
Sweet, pure nectar.
“You okay kiddo?” He asked once he had cleaned his fingers completely. She let out a sweet noise, and he smiled, closing her legs and pulling down her skirt, he pulled her to him, her legs over his thigh as she kept her face pressed on his shirt.
“You were beautiful, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, leaning back on the couch.
 He was aware that his excitement was more than evident, and that she could see it, but even feel it against her side, but he did nothing to relieve himself.
Not yet.
Not now.
Maybe in a few minutes?
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emphistic · 2 days
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Écoute Chérie
A/N: grr
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When a certain someone — specifically a blond male, showed up to Sukuna’s door that next morning holding a wad of cash in his hand, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to sock him in the jaw. But he contained himself, saying, “Keep that shit for yourself. I don’t want it.”
“Oh? You backing out now, Captain?”
“. . .You’re one sick fuck, Zen’in.” He snatched the money out of the younger’s hands, before slamming his door shut.
Pride is a terrible, terrible thing, and Ryomen Sukuna was full of it.
“Oh, my God, girl! I feel like we moved on a little too quickly. Pause: He—you—you guys KISSED? Stop, don’t—don’t play with me right now. I can’t even get a guy to let me cheat off of him on a final, but you kissed someone on the FIRST date. Let me say that again, FIRST date?! As in the first EVER date you two have been on together.”
If you were counting — which you weren’t, this would have been the seventy-ninth time you giggled out loud this evening. You and Nobara were sitting — no, standing, actually, with you leaning forward with your elbows on the counter, and the brunette doing likewise. You decided — well, you were forced — to fill her in on all that happened the day before. You had just gotten off of your shift, and, obviously, were still in your uniform, but Nobara insisted you tell her anyway. She wouldn’t and “couldn’t” wait until you got back to your apartment.
“Yes, Nobs, for the hundredth time. We kissed and even added a little bit of tongue and then he walked me back to my apartment and we fucked all night.”
The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her jaw dropped to the floor and even broke through the tiles and went further beneath the surface. Just kidding; because that’s not possible, but her expression was even more funny after you said, “I’m just messing with you, girl. I have some self-worth left, believe it or not, and I wouldn’t sleep with someone after the first date.”
“Funny how you decided to deny only that part.”
“. . .”
“Don’t—don’t tell me the rest was true. Oh, my God! STOP! I was only kidding; but you—you actually added tongue? What the fuck? And, you just decided to not call me right after? Wow.” Nobara crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air for only a few seconds before she went back to gripping your shoulders and shaking your body. “You are such a freak, my God.”
“He also walked me to my door, y’know. No need to focus on only those parts.” You tried to bring her focus onto that, because you found that part the most adorable.
Truth was, the only reason you didn’t immediately call Nobara that night was because you spent the last few hours of that night screaming into your pillow like a schoolgirl and reminiscing on all that happened.
“You know,” you started, turning to face the man behind you, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way to my door, right? I could’ve just gone by myself.” 
You had insisted and insisted to Sukuna that you would be fine, and that the other residents of the building were friendly and cordial, but Sukuna ignored every one of your pleas and walked right next to you anyway. From the parking lot, to the elevators, and down the hallway, Sukuna never left your side, and actually, was surprisingly nice company. You two talked on the way about how good or bad the food at the game was, how hot and humid it was, how annoying the older gentleman beside your seats was, you two talked plenty enough.
“I know. I wanted to.” Sukuna stopped to lean against the wall beside your apartment, crossing his arms as you pulled out your keys.
“Hey, so, I had a lot of fun today. I guess baseball isn’t as boring as I thought it was,” you laughed, scratching the back of your neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” You had tried to tell him on the car ride to your place, but you chickened out.
Sukuna snorted, “No problem; my pleasure, actually. And, I had a lot of fun, too. I think I enjoyed today more than I would if Yuuji was there instead of you. So thank you for coming.”
“Oh, please. Don’t lie; he’s literally your brother. Besides, Yuuji’s not even here to defend himself. Kinda rude, if I say so myself.”
“I’m not lying, though, really. I enjoyed today. I can’t even remember the last time I was able to leave the house for anything fun and actually, sincerely, enjoy it.” Sukuna moved his head as he spoke, as if in a way to accentuate his point. You found that completely and utterly adorable. Just the thought of you being part of making his day alone made you blush, and you looked away sheepishly.
“I’m glad you had a nice time, Sukuna. And thank you, again, for today.” You caught Sukuna by surprise — beyond surprise, actually — when you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a chaste kiss. Mwah! The sound was audible through the night. And it was the sound which replayed over and over in Sukuna’s mind as he lay completely awake for hours past midnight in bed. The only thing he dreamt of — when he eventually fell asleep, that is — was you. You.
Now that he thought of it, there were no words to describe you. No words to describe your beauty, though, ethereal did come close. No words to describe the smile which you gave him when you two passed each other on campus. No words to describe how friendly and comforting the melody of your voice sounded to him; if you were a siren, and he, a pirate, Sukuna would dive headfirst into the water. No words to describe how drunk, how dizzy, how pathetic you made Sukuna, even with mere eye contact. But, there was a word to describe Sukuna.
It’s quite simple, actually.
Sukuna was whipped. Absolutely enamored of you. But. . . Very unfortunate he only noticed now. And, it was such, such a shame that he was also full of pride.
“Okay, that’s so romantic, though! I can’t believe it. My friend is gonna get with the love of her life, and I don’t even know how to turn the stove on. Oh, my God. My friend’s getting with the love of her life. OH, MY GOD!” That was not even close to the last time you would hear Nobara say “Oh, my God” that night.
-
“You wouldn’t happen to . . . y’know . . . have plans . . . this weekend?”
You didn’t know why Sukuna kept on pausing, but you knew it was oddly suspicious.
“And if I did?”
“Then, I wouldn’t ask you to . . . help me . . . with some . . . math.”
“Sukuna, are you okay? You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint.” You crossed your arms, failing to stifle a giggle. You really couldn’t fathom why he was acting so strange. Sukuna couldn’t, either. 
Ever since the day you both went to that baseball game together, Sukuna’s been different, to say the least. And yeah, maybe after kissing someone for the first time changes your behavior towards them, but still, it was strange. 
He wasn’t as cocky when going over his daily feats at basketball practice; he wasn’t as blunt and insulting to freshmans whom you two came across while on campus; he wasn’t as teasing or sharp with his remarks as he usually was; he wasn’t as assertive and casual whilst slinging an arm ‘round your shoulder. He wasn’t him. Then again, Sukuna also didn’t know why he was acting this way.
“I’m . . . fine. I’m fine.”
“Okay. . . Anyways, I am free. So yeah, I can. My place or yours?”
“Ah, you don’t have a lot of good alcohol,” Sukuna tapped his index finger repeatedly on his chin, as if contemplating which location to use was very difficult for someone like him. “I get bored with just water. So, it’ll have to be mine. ‘Sides, I don’t think Gigi likes me that much anyway.”
You laughed. Sukuna wasn’t very keen on having you tutor him while your apparently “murderous” cat was present. Giselle, also known by her nickname ‘Gigi’, was a black-furred breed, with very sharp, untrimmed nails, which proved useful whenever Sukuna came over to hang out with you or do some other shit. Maybe it was because of how provocative Sukuna and his usual cold demeanor were. Maybe it was because of how close Sukuna got to Gigi’s owner whenever you sat down on the couch together. Maybe it was because of the fact Sukuna took your attention off of your so precious cat whenever he stepped foot into the apartment. Maybe it was because Sukuna was just Sukuna. And Gigi didn’t like that one bit.
“Alright, since you’re afraid of a mere feline, which — mind you, is less than a quarter of both your height and size.”
“Well, that feline comes from the depths of Hell. So yeah, excuse me if I prefer to stay sixty miles away from it.”
“Gigi comes from Hell, now? Pfft—she’s probably just excited to see her previous neighbor, then,” you snorted.
Sukuna gave you a side glance, hiding his growing grin. He was not about to openly admit you were even slightly funny. No, he would never give you that kind of satisfaction.
“Okay, so can you tell me what the variable ‘d’ is?” You had explained the formulas as best as you could, even taking it a step further and dumbing it down immensely. Then you left the living room to put away the dishes, leaving the pink-haired male to attempt his assignment on his own. — With some guidance here and there.
Sukuna and you had ordered Chinese, deciding to study while eating. And while your plan for energizing proved to be frustrating at first — since a certain someone didn’t know how to eat with his mouth closed, you had become used to it by the end. Your tactic? Drowning out the audible chewing noises. Eugh.
“Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll show you.” Sukuna leaned his head on the cushions, wrapping an arm around the back of the sofa.
You scrunched up your face in reply, pausing in the middle of scrubbing food and gunk and whatever off of the porcelain plates. “Pass.
“I told you already, Sukuna. The exponential functions are the ones that slowly curve up; think of it as this: good things happen to a bad thing. Get it? Like, their lives are getting better. And, since I know you’ve already forgotten, a ‘y’ value can have as many ‘x’ values, but the ‘x’ value is . . . unambiguous, so it only has one ‘y’ value. Now, does that help?” 
“Ugh, this is such a bore. How can anyone pay attention to these types of things long enough in class to be good at it? Fuck.”
You took his consequent silence as him giving up on life and continuing to work on solving the problem in his evident misery, but oh, how wrong you were.
“S’kuna, what are you doing?” you sucked in a breath. He was so close. So close, to you. You thought it had only been two seconds, but in those two seconds, it only took Ryomen Sukuna four easy strides to end up here. — With his chest pressed almost right up against your back. Key word: almost. Yes, Ryomen Sukuna was so close, but still, so far.
“Helping you.” God, did he have to be that ambiguous all the time? He was like a walking enigma, a puzzle, a riddle, for you to solve. A mystery for which you would soon lose sleep over.
Sukuna easily grabbed several dried plates, removing them from the rack, and storing them in the cabinet above your head. His hand left lingering touches on your arm as they passed by each other. You slowly, gradually, accumulated a mountain of goosebumps.
It was infuriating.
He was so close, but not close enough.
Every time he moved to grab another plate, he would rest his hand upon your hip or on the curve of your waist. Sometimes he ran his large-scaled hands up your middle; sometimes he moved them lower, and lower. Was he trying to give you heart palpitations?
“Y’know,” he started, his voice dripping with honey, “you can keep breathing, right? What, do I smell that bad?” he snickered.
“I—what—why—what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to argue that he had no sense of personal space, which, yes, was true, but you feared he would stop whatever he was doing at the moment. And, you didn’t want that.
“I’m . . . helping . . . you.” He bent down to your level, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, and his hot breath fanning your ear. 
There it was again. That ‘pausing thing’ of his. But, this time, it was different. Earlier he was pausing as if he was unsure, but now, he was pausing just to create suspense and further rile you up. He clearly knew what he was doing; he knew what he was doing to you. Poor ol’ you, who just innocently wanted to wash some dishes.
You had previously wanted to turn around and properly face him in order to confront him better, but now, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not like you could, anyway, you were stuck between the counter and him. Your eyelashes fluttered, as your eyes darted here and there. And your palms began to sweat, you quickly wiped them on the material of your sweater, but your continued attempts were futile.
“No—no, you’re not.” You struggled to stifle your heavy breathing, and it took you quite a time to form a sentence without giving away the tight feeling in your chest.
“Yeah? Then, how could I help you, hm? Tell me,” he spoke your name firmly, like he was anticipating your breaking, and egging you on nevertheless. Then again, how could he not be? It had been days, days, since you two went to that game. Days since he felt like he was in heaven and talking to an angel. Days since he felt your lips on his. Days since he felt well. Days. And for days, he’s been restless, hungry, thirsty, empty. Hell, forget about your predicament, he was the one close to breaking.
“Tell me,” he said your name, again. “Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”
“. . .You can help by telling me what the fuck we’re doing right now.”
“Don’t you already know? And here, I thought it was obvious.” Sukuna bit his lip, but that didn’t help any bit in suppressing his laugh.
“What . . . are we . . . doing?” You repeated.
Sukuna was silent, for a moment, “You’re tutoring me, on math.”
“I already know that, dumbass. I mean, what are we doing?”
“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that.”
“Oh, my God—what are we doing? What are we? For fuck’s sake. How thick is your skull really, damn.” You finally mustered the courage to twist your body around, and though you were only met with his chest, you sighed and looked upward to meet his face.
“That’s a little harsh.”
You glowered at Sukuna.
“Okay, okay. I’ll talk,” he cleared his throat. “We’re . . . just us. I don’t know what to tell you. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. That’s all there is to it, right?”
For a second, you thought he was referencing what you had previously said to Nobara, but then the rational side of your brain kicked in and said, “No, there’s no way he could’ve overhead that,” and so, the surprised expression disappeared from your face as you looked down at the floor of the kitchen.
“We’re friends, yeah, that’s all there is to it. . . But friends don’t do . . . this. So we clearly, definitely, shouldn’t be doing this.”
“So, we can pretend we’re not doing this, right? There, fixed the problem.”
“And if I don’t want to pretend we’re not doing this?”
“Then don’t; we don’t have to pretend.”
“But—”
“Please,” he looked at you with such an earnest expression on his features, “don’t say that word. Not again. You’ve no idea, no idea, how much it drives me crazy when you say that word. Mad, insane, deranged. Anything but that, please, anything. We’re clearly not friends. We’re clearly not just friends. So please, don’t call whatever we have as that. I’m sick of it.”
“If we’re not friends, then, what are we?” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you couldn’t even recall when it turned out that way. 
“. . .We’re whatever you want us to be. . . What do you want us to be?”
“No, you decide, Sukuna. What do you want us to be?” You gingerly laid a palm on top of his chest.
“I decide?”
You nodded, “Whatever you want to be . . . will be.”
“I want us to be . . . us. Together. Just us. No one else; just you and me.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
He took your hand from his chest and held it in his, as if in a way to seal his promise. “I’m glad.”
Having had a couple beers — in favor of Sukuna giving up on attempting any more math, you were a little drunk. Just a little. 
“You have a stupid, stupid face, but it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite to stare out. It’s my favorite to kiss. It’s my favorite to rub — your skin is so soft. It’s my favorite. My favorite.” 
He let you pepper as many pecks as you wanted onto his cheek, but when you tried to give Sukuna a proper kiss on the lips, he quickly moved his face to the side so you unintentionally planted your lips on his cheek instead. 
For, he didn’t want you to freak out in the morning and think he was the type of guy to take advantage of someone while they were even a little bit tipsy.
Besides, he had just gotten you. He couldn’t lose you now, could he.
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A/N: i love portraying raw emotion
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Considering your response to not really interested in twin graves, how do you feel about flipping the ages and making Ashley the older sibling instead, asking out of personal curiosity
Oh, I love that idea. One of these days I'm going to write a Gravescest AU where Ashley is the older sibling but Andrew is younger, like Jr High-ish. The family moves to a new town thanks to Mr Graves' new job, but Ashley gets an apartment of her own to get the hell out.
Anyway, she's still crushing on cute little Andy BIG TIME but he's constantly getting bullied in school and his parents are just too lazy to care. Well, when Prom rolls around, Ashley offers to be his date and when Andy initially protests ("Ew, you're my sister!"), Ashley points out that no one knows they're related and he'll be the coolest guy in school bringing in a much older girl as his date. Of course, the date night ends as you would expect, but not before Ashley corners the bullies privately and holds a butterfly knife to their throats warning them what would happen if they ever hurt Andy Graves again.
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tulip-fiction · 22 hours
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All my writing so far has been sad and angsty because it was my outlet for processing my emotions over the story/characters. But I really wanted to write something more fun and fluffy and I liked the idea of Jooan getting a gift for Dogeon. It was fun writing this, but it still made me sad because of what happens between them later in the show. I hope you enjoy it.
Bunny Apples - Begins ≠ Youth
Fan fiction
No content warning, all fluff and fun.
Jooan knew it was stupid to waste money on plastic fruit picks, but when he had seen them in the window of the specialty store, he couldn’t help himself. He wouldn’t even have known what they were if Dogeon hadn’t showed him the one he got from Jeha’s house. So the moment he saw them, he knew he had to buy them for Dogeon.
Now Jooan was hunched over the kitchen table, a bunch of ruined apples the result of his efforts. The videos he watched had made it look so easy, but the art of making apples into little bunnies was proving to have a bit of a learning curve. Jooan smiled as he inspected his current attempt. This one was good enough to put on the plate he would bring to Dogeon.
Listening to Dogeon explain about the little bunny shaped apples Jeha’s mom had served had left Jooan confused. Finding pictures of the carved apples online had only added to the ridiculous idea. It had been impossible for him to picture a mom spending time making fruit cute just so it could be chewed up. But as he cut another apple into slices for his Hyung, Jooan thought he now understood why a mom would labor away just to see the smile on their child’s face.
That’s why Jooan had to buy the little fruit picks that day. The idea of Dogeon’s smile had inspired this entire project. Dogeon and Jooan didn’t have parents that did these things for their kids, but they could do these things for each other.
Jooan still had happy memories of his family before things had fallen apart. He remembered helping his mom crack eggs into a bowl while they made his birthday cake together, his dad singing as he hung the laundry on the line to dry, and his sister laying on the floor, mindlessly humming along while she did her homework. But that was so long ago and as time wore on, these fading memories were beginning to feel more like the imagination of a young child. His family had shattered, his mom and sister both gone, and his dad barely alive. This was the family Jooan was born into, and they had left him alone. But Dogeon had always been there for him. Dogeon was the family he had chosen.
A sense of pride washed over Jooan as he placed the last little bunny on the plate. His dad stumbled over just as Jooan finished putting the fruit picks in place.
“What’s this,” he slurred reaching for one of Dogeon’s apples.
Jooan slapped his hand away. “Those are for you,” he gestured to the pile of mutilated rejects.
“What did you do to these?” his dad asked inspecting a lumpy, half-peeled chunk of apple. “Is this blood?”
“Oh just eat them,” Jooan ordered while he carefully covered his gift with plastic wrap. He quickly placed them in a bag and rushed out the door.
Jooan was excited to bring his Hyung a gift. To thank Dogeon for always being there for him when things went sideways. It had been Dogeon that he had run to the first time his dad had hit him. Hyung had held ice to his cheek while Jooan wept uncontrollably in his lap. After that, there were countless nights that Jooan had shown up, unexpected and broken. Dogeon welcomed him in every time without question or hesitation. Dogeon always made room for him, giving Jooan the space and time he needed until he was strong enough to go home again.
He didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, they had become family to each other. Dogeon was everything Jooan needed in an older brother. Safety. Stability. Comfort. Understanding. Jooan was the younger brother that admired his Hyung. And unlike Dogeon’s real brother, he listened to him and didn’t cause trouble, most of the time anyway. Today, he was the little brother that made bunnies out of apple slices.
Jooan was beaming from ear to ear when Dogeon answered the door. “I brought you something!” he blurted out excitedly, thrusting the bag out in front of him.
“Uh, hi,” Dogeon said confused by this unexpected announcement. “What’s this?” he asked taking the package from Jooan.
“I made it,” Jooan announced proudly as Dogeon unwrapped the plate.
A burst of laughter erupted from Dogeon when he saw his gift. “You made these?” he choked, his smile matching Jooan’s. “Thanks kid,” Dogeon said, ruffling his head. “You staying?”
Jooan nodded and followed Dogeon into the container where they sat down to share the apples together. Dogeon picked up the first apple and gave Jooan’s handy work a proper amount of respect before popping it in his mouth.
“Cute,” Dogeon praised through a mouth full of apple, handing one to Jooan. “I had no idea you could carve apples into beetles."
An apple hung limply from Jooan’s gaping mouth as he stared in horror at Dogeon. In a flash of irritation, Jooan about snatched the plate away from him. But as he watched Dogeon examine another apple with a fond smile on his face, Jooan smiled in return. Sure, he had made his Hyung beetle apples.
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verdemoun · 2 days
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WHAT HAPPENS WHEN JOHN MEETS ABIGAIL AGAIN😭😭😭😭
oh my sweet summer child which one. don't worry i'll do both
john's death is awful. it's abrupt but it's not fast. he wheezes, knowing any breath could be his last but still fighting despite there being more lead than bone in his body in case he still needs to protect abigail and jack. falls to his knees, still trying to make his lungs inflate, feels himself falling backwards as the clouds in his vision turn to black
feels someone catching him. pain is gone instantaneously and he gasps like he was suffocating. strangely familiar voice he'd almost forgotten but could recognize anywhere tells him to take it easy, it's alright. wildly glances over his shoulder to see arthur. hosea's there, kneeling in front of him, trying to assure him that 'it's okay, son' in that crackly old voice he hasn't heard in over a decade.
still trying to catch his breath, looking around wildly and the first thing john asks is where's addie. not abigail. addie. because if he's seeing arthur and hosea, he's dead, and he can deal with that later but that means he can see his little girl again
and arthur, who once mocked his brother as 'father of the year' and despised how he acted with jack for so long can't feel anything but pride because the first thing stupid dumb younger brother asks for is his daughter. can't help himself from chuckling, because charles is no doubt struggling to keep her in the car, makes some gesture to release the little demon who has been bouncing up and down since she found out her dad was coming 'home'
john hasn't even picked himself off the ground before he's holding his arms open and abigail marston jr is sprinting to him. beaming like he is the luckiest man in the world for being shot 21 times because he gets to hold his little girl, kissing her cheeks in adoration, asking where she got the idea to get so big.
it's been less than a year but to not see a child for almost a year feels like a lifetime. she's almost 3 inches taller, she's giggling and whining he's going to squish her he's hold on so tight and he has to stop himself from thinking about the last time he saw her. last time he saw his little girl he was burying her.
the gang are almost glad to be forgotten about. there's john marston, older than they'd ever seen him, older than arthur ever got to be in 1899, who experienced his own death seconds ago immediately becoming a father again.
he answers her excited questions so gently - so sorry he was away so long. he went to mexico and all over new austin, but he thought about her every night. that mommy and jack still need to look after the farm so they couldn't come with him, that she better have said thank you to uncle arthur and uncle charles for taking care of her while he was gone and he's never putting her down again, despite her squirming and wriggling in his arms because she's a big girl who doesn't need to be carried
on the drive the gang can't even talk to him because he's just staring at his little girl nestled up beside him with so much love, trying not to look obviously confused and slightly horrified by her holding up an iPad and eagerly explaining how to play way of the turtle because 'arthur i swear to god if you converted my daughter into chelonianism i will find a way to kill you also why is this moving picture show handheld and interactive'
if he ever struggles adjusting to modern era he doesn't show it. the second he saw his daughter he knew that eventually (sooner than he'd like) his family would be together again and he would go through hell/learning to drive and work a mobile phone and getting a shitty part-time job as a laborer to make sure they are all safe with a place to call home again
--
in direct contrast, abigail marston nee roberts death is so peaceful. bedridden for days, knowing her body was quitting and blaming the immeasurable toll of heartbreak despite how much she tried to pull herself together for jack's sake. jack, who looks so much like his father, sitting at her bedside and insisting he'll be okay (for her sake. he very much won't be)
it's a blink. one blink, she's looking at her son, and the next it's her husband. the images almost overlap each other, their similarities and differences never more obvious. jack squints because he reads too much, young enough that it hasn't formed lines on his face yet but promises to. john squints to make his singular eye focus (well, he has two eyes, but she knows he can only see out of one after those damned wolves). his face is worn, an old, scarred map of the lives he's lived. the corners of his mouth tug more with smile lines than frown, though. it's like a secret between them, how often he smiles
it's like jack and john are in the exact same spot, sitting beside her, but the walls of bedroom have become a field, as john takes her hand delicately as if it isn't as rugged and haggard as his from years of washing, cooking, tending to the chores on the farm that used to be his
"hey"
"hey"
he sits beside her, staring at her as much as she's staring at him. she looks so beautiful but so tired, holding onto so much grief that no one person should shoulder alone. abigail notices he's somehow older, like the three years they've been apart have affected him too. more crinkles in his face, but his hair doesn't look so dry
he cuts her off before she can work herself into a panic over where their daughter is, as much as he knows it's been so much longer for her. addie's fine, arthur is entertaining her, she's as bossy and demanding as her mother (to which abigail playfully hits him for) arthur's here, sadie's here, charles and hosea and lenny and sean and karen, the whole gang, they're here too. not heaven or hell but something else she can worry about, figure out and understand later
might as well be speaking latin because abigail could not care less after she heard her daughter was there. she just so wholly, entirely missed john she doesn't want to take her eyes off him in case she blinks and he's gone again
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thewisestdino · 1 year
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Hi! May i humbly suggest Cinderpelt for the anthro warriors suggestions if she hasn’t already been requested? She’s my lovely lady and I adore her! Best of luck with your thesis btw!!
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Got a couple requests for her so heres Cinderpelt, I went for peak farmer
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lowkeyremi · 4 months
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JJK MEN AS DADS
How they are with their kiddos/babies ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami
content: no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families.
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Gojo Satoru
"Look at my little boy, he looks just like me, what a heart stopper you'll be when you get older!" He praises his two year old, Kenji Gojo.
"'Toru stop trying to manifest our son into a hoe." Satoru turns to you with a loud gasp, eyes wide, and it causes your little boy to giggle.
"How could you say such words, in front of him? Don't listen to Mommy. Daddy was never a player. Never ever!" Kenji has no clue what's happening he just laughs at his father's dramatics.
"Oh brother, I hope he doesn't turn into a drama queen like you. And yes you were a player before I got with you. Remember when you kissed my friend then like ten minutes later tried to kiss me?" Satoru was a menace in college. Every time you bring up that specific college memory he always says-
"Ugh, blame Suguru! He was the one who made me take shots when I didn't like to drink." There it is. That was excuse for two-timing you and your best friend back then.
"Save it for someone who believes you. Kenji, don't be like Daddy when you grow up, okay?" Your husband knows you're joking but he can't help but whine and feel like you're being against him.
"Otay Mommy! Daddy is hoeeee. Hoe hoe hoe. Merry Christmas!" Your poor little boy thinks he's saying the noise Santa makes instead of a derogatory term and it's hilarious.
Of course you encourage him, "Daddy's a what?"
"Hoe!" Kenji screams out with a smile on his face. Satoru frowns loosing his playfulness.
"I-i guess my family just hates me... no one loves me." He sighs loudly to sell it to you guys but you don't buy it. He sits in the corner pretending to cry. "Boo hoo..." Kenji waddles his way over to his father patting his head.
"No cry Daddy, you not a hoe. You Daddy." Satoru fakes a loud gasp when he hears his son comfort him, thinking Satoru is actually crying.
"Really?!" He asks the little boy standing next to him.
"Yeah, Daddy is cool!!" Satoru chuckles, picks up is little boy and tosses him into the air. The small white haired child screams in delight as his father catches him, and you can't deny that all the trouble you and Satoru had in your relationship was worth seeing this.
Geto Suguru
"And then, the monster ate the twin girls who didn't go to sleep at their bed time-"
"Ooooookay. I think that's enough bed time stories from Papa." You say ushering your girls to bed, Hana looks scared out of her mind but Kana's eyes are sparkling with curiosity.
"Awww, Mommy, it was just getting good!" Kana whines, you know she wants to hear whatever else Suguru makes up on spot but he scared Hana who looks like she wants to cry.
"I know sweetie, but I don't think Hana really liked that story." The girls are six and full of energy at any given time.
"Come on baby, let me tell Kana the rest." Suguru matches his daughter's tone, knowing you'll give in.
"Alright, fine, but you need to apologize to Hana, look at her." Your husband looks at his younger twin daughter and he does feel kind of bad for scaring her like that. Suguru likes telling scary stories and myths to his girls just like his father had done to him. He always thought they were super cool.
"Oh, Hana, sweet girl. Papa's sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. How about I tell you and your sister a different story?" Hana looks a little doubtful as do you, but Suguru grants you a smile. He knows you trust him so you give him a stern look before kissing his forehead.
"Don't take too long, I need my cuddles." He smirks, kissing your hand, "Of course my dear."
The twins coo in unison at their parents romantic gestures, they think it's the coolest thing ever. "You girls have your stuffed animals?" He asks them and they nod together waiting for his story.
He tells the two about a princess who needed saving. Her long lost sister came to save her from a scary dragon and they lived happily together.
"That sounds like me and Hana!! I fought the scary dragon and Hana was the princess!!!" Kana says with excitement. Sometimes Suguru sees two little girls he used to foster in his own girls. He wonders how they're doing these days. They're probably grown up by now or at least in their late teens.
"I really wish Mommy had let me name you guys Nanako and Mimiko." He whispers with a soft smile. Kana looks at him in confusion rubbing her tired eyes, Hana's already asleep.
"Huh?" Kana asks.
"Nothing my dear, good night, little one." He tucks her into bed and gives her a tend kiss on the forehead.
"Night night, Papa." She says with a yawn and Suguru makes his way downstairs to join you.
Kamo Choso
Choso bites his lip looking down at his son, the boy looks a lot like you he thinks. Ryuji is his name, you let him name him. "I didn't mean to break it." He whines to his father. Choso has a soft spot for his boy. He reminds him a lot of his little brother Yuji.
"I know bud, but what will we tell Mom when she gets home?" Ryuji had accidentally broken your favorite ceramic mug. Choso was not sure what he signed up for when he got you pregnant but it sure wasn't this.
He and his son were always getting scolded by you. Every time Ryuji gets into some kind of trouble it also happens to be Choso's fault for not watching him closely as you always say. The truth is, Ryuji seems to get into trouble even with his father watching him closely.
"Um... we can tell her it was at the edge of the counter and i walked past it and it fell down. Then it will be her fault for leaving it by the edge." Choso smiles at his devious ten year old. He knows lying is bad but if you heard what really happened you'd scold both of them.
What actually happened as that Ryuji was playing in the kitchen, even though you've warned him against it many times and he knocked your mug down onto the ground.
"Good idea, kid. I don't want to hear Mom yelling again. I might get couch treatment again." Choso shivers at the idea of sleeping on the cramped couch rather than in his warm bed with you.
"You remind me a lot of your Uncle Yuji." Choso says ruffling his son's hair. "You and Mom keep saying that and I don't know if that's good or bad."
"It depends. Yuji can be both." Choso chuckles. His son gives him a crushing hug.
"I love you dad, you're doing great." And Choso didn't know how much he needed to hear those words but they were getting to him.
Fushiguro Toji
"Quit kicking your Ma, ya little brat." He threatens your swelling belly. He gives you a questioning look when you glare at him. Those emerald eyes challenge yours in a staring contest.
"What is with you and threatening our unborn children?" Your question is followed by a giggle.
"Gotta let the brats know who's in charge." He blows out a breath and puffs his chest, you find the whole ordeal ridiculous. The man is a girl dad for crying out loud. Even his oldest, your step-son thinks his father is a clown. And before Tsumiki died there were three daughters in his life.
He thinks your third one is bound to be a boy, but you're secretly hoping for a girl just to further sink Toji's idea of having a little boy to boss around. Megumi comes around maybe twice a month to see his little half-sisters, which means Toji is surrounded by girls all the time.
You like to joke around with him and say, "What do you know? Girls seem to follow you wherever you go." He always grumbles about it being stupid and unfair.
"As I was saying-"
"DAD!!!!! MY HAIR OH NOOOOOOO." Toji's up off the couch in seconds answering at his daughter's beck and call.
He walks into her room to see her braid was messed up. "What happened, Doll?" He asks her, undoing the braid so he can redo it.
"Yui undid my braid!! She took my hair tie and ran to her room!!!" She squeals, in horror at her little sister's thieving.
"Oh did she now? I'll go have a talk with her once I braid this back up." He's gentle with his tender-headed daughter. He quickly braids her hair back up, the pattern memorized. 100% self indulgent bc im tender headed.
"I have this green hair tie, is that okay, sweet girl?" She sighs quietly. "Where are the blue ones?" Toji clicks his tongue. "I can go get one real quick if you hold the end of this braid." He tells her and she's quick to do it. Her favorite color is blue after all.
She cheers when her father returns with a blue hair tie. He ties it up quickly, "Okay let me go talk to Yui." Nami nods brushing out her baby doll's hair.
Toji makes an appearance in front of his four year old's door, she's making her dolls scream at each other. "What was da reason?!!!!" She screams pretending to be one of the dolls, "I had a reason." She makes the other say.
Toji rolls his eyes, his daughter has been watching too much TV with you. "Excuse me miss Cardi B, why did you steal your sister's hair tie?" His hands are on his hips and his eyes are squinted to add to his authority.
"Whattttt, Dad, you know dat?" She asks as if her dad lives under a rock.
"Tch I'm not old, I know what memes are. Now answer the question." She rolls her eyes. You tell Toji she gets her attitude from him.
"If you haf to know I needed it, so I could give Sprinkles a ponytail." Sprinkles is the dog Toji said he was NOT going to get for his girls but caved in and got anyway.
"Ya coulda asked me or your Ma for one rather than stealing it right from your sister's hair." She shakes her head in disagreement. Toji wonders what's going on in her head right now.
"Dad you don't get it! It had to be that one!"
"Why that specific hair tie?" She goes silent turning away from her father and mumbling something Toji can barely hear.
"Speak up, princess." She scoffs and sighs and folds her arms. Wow the sass is unreal.
"Sprinkle thinks Nami is super cool so she wants what Nami has." Toji isn't stupid he knows his daughter is using the dog as a place holder for how she admires her older sister. Yui doesn't like to admit it though.
"Are you sure it's Sprinkle who thinks Nami is super cool?" He gives her the chance to be open with him and she sighs taking the bait.
"I guess. I think Nami is super cool." She murmurs and Toji smirks.
"It's alright to think your sis is cool, Dad didn't get to grow up with any cool siblings. Just annoying cousins."
"Mai and Maki are cooler than you, Dad, not annoying!" The man in question raises his brow his smirk never leaving, "Okay since I'm not cool. I guess I won't take you out for treats anymore when Ma says no."
Little Yui gasps, bursting upward like a rocket and running toward her dad. She hugs his leg, her little head looking up at him, "I was kidding Dad. You're super cool. Please don't stop taking me for treats!!"
Toji smiles, picks up his little girl and tickles her. She screams out for him to stop, "Huh? I can't hear what you're saying."
"Nami help!!!!"
In seconds Nami's attacking her father in a playful manner, "Let go of my sister!!"
"Okay then." Toji holds his daughter upside down by her feet, as she screams some more. "MA!!! HELPPP!!!!"
"Toji put her down." You say in a half-hearted manner.
"She is down. Upside down."
Nanami Kento
"See, you're getting the hang of it, Hiro." Kento softly encourages his son who's struggling with his math homework. You had tried to help him but he screamed that what you were saying didn't make sense. So of course you yelled back, letting your emotions get the better of you.
Kento had stepped in to keep you two from ripping each other's heads off. Plus all that screaming had woken up the baby. You could hear her crying.
That was about an hour ago. You quietly walked into the dining room with your seven month old baby girl cuddled up to your chest as you held her tight.
The sight of your husband helping your son warmed your heart, but you also felt guilt hot in your stomach for yelling at him, he's only twelve.
"Hey, Hiro. Can I talk to you, hon?" You ask softly. Both your son and Kento turn their heads upon hearing your voice. He nods at you and you inhale deeply, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, bud, I didn't mean it."
His eyes soften as do Kento's.
"I'm sorry too, Mom. I started it. You were just trying to help me." Kento's smile encourages you to walk closer to the table which you do.
"We should have had Dad come help in the first place, huh? I'm not good at explaining." Hiro shares a laugh with you, and Kento cups your cheek.
"Explanations might not be your strong suit but you're still a good mother, baby." Hiro gags at his father calling you "baby" he hate when you two get sappy.
You move your head a little so you can kiss his palm. As expected Hiro covers his eyes and making more throwing up noises.
"Oh hush, one day you'll find someone for you, and you'll be just like me and your mother." Kento says rolling his eyes and you giggle. Even though you guys have your differences you guys always forgive each other at the end of the day.
Your little girl coos quietly and Kento holds out his arms gesturing for his little girl.
"She's just had dinner, so she might fall asleep on you." Your warning doesn't bother him at all, if anything, you'll probably have more pictures to add to your baby gallery on your phone if she falls asleep in his arms.
She's already a dad's girl and she's only seven months old. You thought maybe Hiro would be a mama's boy but he's definitely his daddy's son.
You don't mind though, well, sometimes you're a little jealous that you have to share your man with your kids. Kento's a very lovable man though, so you can't blame them.
7K notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 3 months
Note
What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭
little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader
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you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.
but it isn’t.
throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.
his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.
they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.
satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.
for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.
he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.
so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.
a shameful failed trial at that.
in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!
so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.
…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.
and come home you did and to all this mess.
swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.
then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.
satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.
so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“
you simply quirk an eyebrow.
and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”
“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”
your husband gasps, “how!?”
“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”
so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.
like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.
that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”
satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”
“bad word!”
“sorry!”
however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”
hit the panic button.
“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”
the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”
“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.
your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.
ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.
“hello?”
“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”
“what?!”
and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.
you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”
“yes ma’am!”
he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.
your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.
and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.
he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”
he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”
“I was gone for 3 minutes.”
“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”
he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.
anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.
when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.
now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.
he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.
satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.
he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.
opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.
if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.
he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.
so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.
the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.
that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.
he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”
he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.
she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.
satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.
your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.
your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”
almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.
satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”
a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”
satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”
s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.
so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”
your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.
then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:
“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”
your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”
satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”
s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.
looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.
he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?
he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.
with no blanket.
no pillow.
not even his favorite cushion.
but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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calumfmu · 2 months
Text
i heard you like magic
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Steddie x AFAB!reader; 5.9k+ words
Eddie spoke often of Steve, mentioning how much he couldn't stand him, him stealing Dustin from him, being rude, so perfect in his perfect little house. You thought the feeling was mutual until you laid eyes on him, immediately understanding the tension was more than they both led on.
cw: riding, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, p in v, threesome, blowjobs, Steve eating it from the back (gasp!), Eddie being (kinda) dominant, angst, hidden feelings, smut, smut, smut...
“So… this girl…” Steve began, mouth full as he stole a bag of chips off of Robin’s lap. “She’s like hot hot?”
Eddie stared at him, lip slightly curved up in a grimace as he watched crumbs come out of the younger man’s mouth. His affliction for him had grown during the last few weeks, but he still was wary of the man in general. Dustin’s urges to make them friends fell short most of the time, the two men bickering most days an attempt was made. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his body towards Steve, running his eyes over his stupid corduroy sweater.
“You jealous, Harrington?” He asked, grin growing as he saw Steve’s face redden with the accusation. A cough came out of his mouth as he choked a piece of the food down.
“Ladies love me, Munson,” he shot back, cutting a look to Robin as she cackled. A faux serious expression crossed her face as she pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn’t be jealous of someone who doesn’t exist.”
It was a running joke amongst the friend group. Even worse than the questionable presence of Suzie when Dustin first mentioned her, nobody believed it when Eddie mentioned the “hottest chick you’ll ever meet”. He fought for his life trying to convince the group that he did pull, he did have people his age interested in him who weren’t solely into DND.
“But you could be jealous of someone who’s gotten laid more recently than you,” Eddie quipped back, leaning his elbows on the arm of the chair to stare Steve down. Steve sat reclined in his seat on the couch, hand propped on the arm, legs crossed as he held the eye contact. Robin’s eyes darted in between the two of them, finger held in front of Dustin’s face who wanted to cut out the argument before it even began. A growing smile sat on her face, nearly shaking with excitement as the tension grew.
“Is that so?” Steve’s mouth formed an upside down smile, mockery hidden in his words. “Does her name happen to start with ‘Right’ and end in ‘Hand’ by any chance?”
The smirk dropped from Eddie’s face, tongue running over his front teeth between parted lips. Briefly glancing down at the movement, Steve rolled his eyes, shoving another chip into his mouth.
“Wish it was you, big boy?” Eddie sneered, leaning even further as his voice dropped low. Robin gasped around her smile, eyes fixated on Steve as his face turned up, irritation covering his gestures.
“Oh, shove i-”
“Children! Please!” Dustin’s voice cut through the air, hands coming up to wave between the older men. Reluctantly, all three turned their bodies to face the young teen, watching as he pinched his nose bridge. “I swear, somehow I end up watching you guys and your bullshit instead of the other way around.”
The tension dissipated, Eddie leaning back in his seat as Steve crossed his arms over his chest, turning his body dramatically the other direction. Robin sat content, back against the couch and her legs crossed in front of her, eyes fixated on the TV across the room.
“I was just saying,” Steve grumbled, waving a hand in their direction. “Must be hard entertaining your pillow all the god damn time.”
“You know wh-”
“You guys!” The curly headed boy’s voice cracked as he shouted, standing up to move between them. Turning to Steve, Dustin sighed. “Steve… we know.”
Steve smirked at Dustin, eyebrows raising as he felt triumphant. The younger boy shot a look at Eddie sitting there, hating the way Steve just looked so happy as he pushed that perfect curl of hair out of his eyes.
“And… Eddie, I’m sure she’s…” Dustin trailed off, ignoring the protest Eddie gave him as he moved to go sit down back next to Steve. The man gaped at him, eyes flitting between the two.
“Henderson, you don’t believe me either?” Eddie was pissed, standing up as he placed his hands on his hips out of frustration. The younger boy shrugged, avoiding eye contact as Robin’s interest piqued yet again.
“I don’t think anyone believes you,” she said, leaning an elbow to rest of Steve’s knee. Leaning her head in her hand, she raised an eyebrow, chewing at her bottom lip. “You said you met her at a … rock show? Come on, what girl willingly goes to that shit?”
“My girl,” his eyes were glued to the ceiling, his mouth running over rude phrases he didn’t dare utter, no matter how bad he wanted to.
“Eddie, it’s okay, I’ll believe it…” she continued, nodding as she mustered up a serious expression. Eddie’s shoulders sagged in relief, feeling content as he finally had someone on his side. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. “…When I see it.”
“You guys can rightfully fuck off.” And with that, he turned on his heel, storming out of the Henderson home. He ignored Dustin’s calls of his name and the intertwined laughter of the older teenagers, he didn’t have to deal with that shit.
His fingers fumbled with pulling keys out of his pocket, cursing as they fell to the floor before he could unlock the vehicle. Grabbing them, he threw open the driver’s side door, cringing at the squeaking of his weight settling in. She was going to be in town later, the first time he had seen her in a month and two weeks—not like he had been counting. He was going to prove to everyone that she was real, she was Eddie’s girlfriend, everything and more in which he had described.
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Eddie’s head was thrown back against the van wall, hair sticking to his forehead with his eyes shut. His fingers left pale marks in your skin, hips flush to his own as he rutted up into you, the smell of sex filling the dense air.
Knees firmly planted on either side of his hips, your fingers were interlocked behind his head, laced in his hair as moans escaped your mouth around his name, bouncing up and down on his cock, hitting that deep, sensitive spot inside of you. You couldn’t get enough of him, the smell of his cologne, his shampoo filling your senses. It had been too long since he had filled you like this, that last weekend you had seen each other lingering in your mind.
Your panties had been pushed to the side, short leather skirt hiked up to your mid section, breasts pulled out of the top of your shirt in the haste of the moment. Eddie’s clothes were still on, cock pulled out of the top of his pants as he fucked into you, jean material dampening as you leaked around him.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, mouth open as he stared at you, his head hit the van wall with every rise and fall of your hips, grunts falling out of his mouth. “You feel so good, so—ah, fuck—fucking g-good, baby.”
“Need you to fuck me harder, baby,” you breathed, grinding your hips in circles as you slowed your pace. You needed him deep, wanted to feel him in places you hadn’t before, anticipation not yet being fulfilled in his previous absence.
His eyes rolled back at your words, the grip on your hips disappearing as he went to grab the globes of your ass. He pulled his feet up, anchoring himself as he began to thrust up hard into you, shaking your body with every harsh movement. His hips began to stutter, brows knitting together as you leaned to press your mouth into his, he was nearing his orgasm, prolonging it to sit in this ecstasy. It barely could classify as a kiss, just a mush of mouths together as you both breathed heavy into it, Eddie sticking his tongue out to brush against yours, groan sitting in the back of his throat.
You felt your hips tense up as you neared your own, slick began nearly dripping out of you, walls clenching around his thick cock. With a shout, you came around him, vision blurring as you clenched, fluttering. Slumping against him, you grinded down, moaning as one of his hands came up to grip at the back of your head.
His thrusts turned slow, deep as he reached his peak, one hand tangled in your hair as the other wrapped around your waist, torsos pressed against one another. You felt a warm rush of liquid as he came inside of you, stilling as he pressed his teeth to your neck, leaving a deep, red mark in the skin.
You caught your breath, legs quivering as you sat on top of him, feeling the dull thud of his heartbeat in his chest. He pulled away from your neck, pressing a quick kiss to the skin before placing another on your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face.
“I missed you, baby,” he whispered, smile lines showing as he looked up at you. You giggled, nodding as you shifted your hips, a low groan escaping his mouth as he remained inside of you.
“I could tell, babe,” you laughed, running your hands through his hair. He hoisted you off of him, tucking himself in before adjusting your clothing, pressing kisses to the skin with every adjustment he made. You let him take his time, giggling with each brush of his lips against your skin.
“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, leaning up to press a kiss to your mouth. You leaned into it, hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Opening your mouth to him, you quickly nipped at his lip, whining when he pulled away. “You can’t—we’re never going to make it to my friends.”
“And what’s the harm in that?” A hand reached up to place on his chest, smile widening as he gripped your wrist, stopping it from sliding down further.
His face suddenly flushed, eyes leaving yours as he glanced around the van. Furrowing your brow, you placed that same hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to you. He met your eyes, nerves written all over him.
“They don’t, uhhh,” he began, poking out his tongue as he thought of what to say. “They don’t think you’re real.”
Your eyes widened at his words, a moment of silence passing before you cackled at him. His blush deepened further.
“Well, that felt pretty real, didn’t it?” Your hand rubbed at his cheek, other one coming to rest on his thigh as you kneeled in front of him. You pushed a faux innocence on your features, lip jutting out. “I could show you again? Prove it?”
His shoulders tensed as his eyes fluttered shut, cursing as you began to inch your hand up his thigh.
“Babe, you’re going to fucking kill me,” he said, jaw clenching and unclenching. “I’m actually going to die. Death through dick.”
You pulled away, crouching as you stood in the bed of the van, not being able to reach your full stretch of height. You clambered over the passenger seat, sliding in as you buckled up, feet hitched up on the dash. Eddie raised an eyebrow to you, confused as he wasn’t sure what was happening.
You turned towards him, arm stretching around the back of the drivers seat as your body turned.
“You going to sit there and look pretty all night, or do you want to prove to your friends I’m here?” You asked, laughing as he stood up, following your movements. He slid in the drivers seat, pushing your arm away before starting the engine. As he pulled out of the empty parking lot, you kept your eyes trained on him, enjoying the way his hair whipped behind him as wind poured through the side window.
He drove through the streets of Hawkins, knee bouncing as his other pressed the pedals. He chewed on his thumbnail, nerves tugging at his heart. He didn’t mention anything through the drive, but you knew he had so many things on his mind. Why he was so nervous, you had no idea, choosing to remain silent as you leaned back into your seat.
The house he pulled up on was beautiful, two stories, gray panels surrounding red double doors and greenery drowning out the background of the house. There weren’t neighbors any close in sight, the faint blare of music coming from deep in the house.
You glanced towards Eddie, eyebrow raised at the sight.
“You have friends who live here?” From what you had seen of Eddie, he didn’t seem like he would have any association with this type of person from Hawkins. He lived in a trailer with his uncle, prided himself in the social isolation he maintained for most of his life, and enjoyed playing a board game with 14-year-olds, for Christs sake.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled before hopping out to car to run around the van, opening the door for you. You smiled at him, hand gripping his as you stepped out. He closed the door behind you, hand on the small of your back as you began walking up the drive way. “Harrington… Steve, that is. He’s more of a friend of a friend, you know, forced to hang around him.”
The name was familiar, hearing it multiple times over the phone during your late night phone calls. The two of you rounded the side of the house, Eddie reaching up to unlatch a side gate leading to the backyard. From your memory, he claimed to not like the younger man, frustration dripping from his voice as he claimed he “stole the Henderson” kid from him. You didn’t know either of them, laughing at his complaints through the crackling of his voice over the phone.
“Mmm… Steve,” you teased, eyebrows wiggling at him as he lightly pushed you through the gate, shaking his head. You took a few steps, poking his side as he swung the gate closed. Despite his claims of hating the guy, you wondered if there had been something more, Eddie’s character not exactly screaming straight.
“Stop it,” he laughed, hand coming up around your shoulders. The voices and music began louder, a small gathering of teenagers appearing in the distance.
“I’m just saying, babe,” you said, leaning into his side as the two of you made it around the side of the house. You looked up at him, reveling in the way he glanced down at you, cheeks flushed at your teasing. “If he’s cute, just say that.”
He sputtered, mouth dropping open as he looked down at you. “I don’t—that’s not—he’s not-”
A voice cut his words, a younger, curly headed boy shouting out to him. “Eddie!”
You felt the way your boyfriend’s hands tightened on your shoulder, pulling you into him before coming closer into view. The kid ran up to you two, the smile on his face dropping as he glanced over at you.
“Who are you?” He was confused, eyes flitting between you and Eddie and the hand on your shoulder. You laughed, stepping closer to hold out a hand. His gaze narrowed, reluctantly taking hold of it to shake.
You said your name, introduced yourself as “the mysterious girlfriend.” Dustin, as you learned, beamed at the title, laughing out loud before dragging you over to the other people.
“You guys, look at this shit!” He exclaimed, hands on your shoulders as he shook you. You laughed at the loud gesture, feeling slightly nervous as they all looked at you. You heard their disbelief, ‘No way’s’ and ‘Nice, Munson’s’ were thrown in your direction. You were surrounded by the young teenagers, their voices piling over each other as they hounded you with questions.
“How much did he pay you?”
“Lucas, shut up, I doubt he’s that smart.”
“You actually like the music he listens to?”
“You’re like with him, with him?”
It became overwhelming, Eddie’s hands finding your shoulders relaxing you as you didn’t know which one to focus on.
“Relax!” He said, voice loud as it shut them up. He pointed out their names, a blur that you would have to memorize better at a later time. He guided you to one of the lounge chairs, seated next to the older teenagers, a couple in one, leaning against each other, and another in the one across from you, distance between them as they eyed you.
Immediately, you recognized Steve, Eddie’s phone descriptions of him matching true. His chestnut hair perfectly styled, large brown eyes complimenting his features, moles dotted around his face. His gaze was intense on you, jaw clenched as he took you in.
You waved hello and fell into the introductions to the group before settling into Eddie, finding comfort in his broad shoulders. Small talk occurred between you all, Steve remaining silent as his stare lingered between you and Eddie. You didn’t know his deal, confused on how Eddie “hated” him so much when he didn’t match the rude description you had heard so many times.
They were like a little family, all of these people you had just met, mingling with each other perfectly, personalities complimenting each other despite being so different. Before you knew it, you found yourself relaxed among them, Eddie gone from your side as he stood with the younger group of teens.
“Steve, right?” You found your voice, small as a conversation carried on next to you. His eyes shot to yours, eyebrows raising in surprised. He glanced at Eddie briefly before realizing the older man was stuck in a conversation with Dustin, a few feet behind you guys.
“Uhh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me,” he dropped his eyes to the floor, turning his body so he wasn’t staring at you. Laughing under your breath, you recognized what he was doing, trying to ‘play it cool’.
“Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” You didn’t think his eyes could get any wider as he looked towards you once again, breathing even as he pondered over your words. A light smile sat on your face, knees tucked in your chest as your arms crossed around them.
“You have?” His voice was a low rasp as his face turned up. A brief flash of color tinted his cheeks before he adjusted in his seat, chest huffing at the end of his question.
“Yeah, Eddie talks about you, like, all the time,” you glanced at the others, noticing how you and Steve seemed rapped up in your own world. Nobody paid attention to the two of you, stuck in the midst of their own conversations.
“He does—What does he say?” The look on Steve’s face turned up even more, and a glint in your eye appeared as you realized what was happening. The enemy story they had painted about each other wasn’t as true as it seemed.
“Oh you know, this and that,” you chose not to elaborate, giggling at the way he seemed more confused. You didn’t want to toy with your relationship with Eddie, but did want to test the waters to see how far you could push it.
He settled down into his chair, lips pulled to the side as he chewed on his bottom lip, eyes darting out as he didn’t focus on anything particular. He opened his mouth to ask something, instead, chose not to as he sat there, thinking hard.
Smug, you leaned back in your chair, humour on your face as you realized what fun this was going to be. Eddie’s voice was loud as he poked fun at Dustin, laughing as he held the other boy in a loose headlock. You shook your head, noticing the way that Steve spared a few glances towards the two, eyes lingering on your boyfriend, his long hair framing the exposure of his neck.
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You found yourself in the bathroom, running your hands under the sink as you stared at yourself in the reflection. A small gasp escaped your mouth as you noticed a dark red mark at the base of your neck, half hidden by your shirt. It hadn’t been there earlier, the ticking of time deepening the wound.
The memory of Eddie’s teeth on your neck sent a rush of heat through your body as you brushed your fingers against your skin. A knock to the door had you sitting up right, pressing the back of your hand to it, cooling its heat.
“Sorry, I’ll be right out!” You called, adjusting your hair before turning to look at your outfit, making sure everything checked out. Moving to turn around and dry your hands on the rack behind you, you startled as the door swung open, Steve standing behind it.
“Oh uh—sorry,” he breathed, eyes quickly glancing over your body as he stood in the way of the door. Your hands had paused mid-movement, gripping the towel between your fingers. “I thought you’d be in the other one.”
“No, I’m in here.” Closing your eyes briefly, you laughed softly at the obvious statement before turning towards him. “Guess I better go.”
Steve nodded, but made no effort to move, instead standing there, hands stretched between the door frame. His eyes ran over one more time, a deep flush covering both of your faces.
“Eddie’s out there, you probably should,” he said, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. In this moment, you realized how handsome Steve really was, understanding Eddie’s frustration towards him because God, was it unfair.
A moment passed as you stared, maybe twenty, you didn’t really know. The awkward air disappeared, filling with a tension of another kind as your eyes held each other.
“Yn?” Eddie’s voice startled you, sending you and Steve into motion as you two ran into each other, you trying to step out of the bathroom and Steve attempting to go in at the same time. You stumbled back, almost losing your footing as his hand reached out to grab you, large fingers stretched across your hip.
Eddie stared down at the grip, expressionless as it slowly fell off of your body, fingertips brushing the curve of your ass as Steve stepped fully in. The door closed with a soft thud behind you, Eddie inspecting your face as his was void with emotion. The hallway was silent, save for the sound of the clinking of Eddie’s chains around his wrist.
“What are you doing?” He asked, voice low as he blinking slowly at you standing there, hands clasped behind your back. The tone in his voice was accusatory, your head cocked to the side, pretending to not know what he was referencing.
“What d’you mean?” You batted your lashes at him, tongue slightly poking out between your smile.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he continued, crossing his arms to his chest. You dropped the look you were giving him, instead stepping to him to place a hand on his chest. Glancing back towards the door, you noticed the shadow of two feet below the crack, in which you could presumably imagine Steve standing there, ear pressed to the door. You looked up into your boyfriends eyes, a devious glint in your eye.
"I'm just making friendly conversation," you said, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. It was warm below your touch, the muscle twitching underneath your lips as he fought his smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he placed his hands on your hips.
The truth was that Eddie knew what you were doing, you knew what you were doing. It wasn't the first time you had toyed with the idea of another person joining the fun that you had together, late night conversations shared over the phone as you explored the ideas of your sex life. You were sure though that Eddie had no idea you would find that person in the midst of his friend group, with someone he had claimed he couldn't stand being around.
"A friendly conversation?" He clarified, head nodding as he smiled down at you. His gaze was mocking as you smirked up at him, head tilted to the side. "With Steve?"
You reached behind you, moving his hand lower on your hip so he gripped the curve of your ass where it met your thigh. His tongue ran across his red lips, you pressing a quick kiss to the wetness it left behind.
"I get it now, Eddie," you breathed against his mouth, inches away from his face. His fingers lifted the bottom of your skirt, dipping closer to the heat between your thighs. "He's so pretty, it's no wonder why you can't get him out of your mind."
Eddie swallowed loudly, eyes widening at your brashness. He had never told you what he truly thought of the man, he just assumed that you believed his words.
"I figured we could have a little fun, the three of us," you whispered at him. "While I'm in town for the weekend."
A slow nod came from him, barely noticeable before he leaned into you, only to be stopped by your finger pressing to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the skin there instead, head leaning back as he realized you weren't finished with your offer.
"Would you like that, Eddie?"
The hand remaining at your waist slid up the expanse of your back, feeling the smooth skin underneath your shirt. You realized the two of you probably looked raunchy, a compromising position that was a little too inappropriate for the public setting of the hallway.
"Me pressed between the two of you?" Your voice was low, intimate between as it carried in the air, but loud enough to be heard on the other side of the bathroom door. You knew Steve was listening, unsure if Eddie was aware of the same fact.
He was growing hard beneath you, the taut fabric of his jeans pressing into you.
"Or if you'd like... imagine Steve pressed between us. I bet he makes the prettiest of noises."
A low groan escaped his throat as he gulped, eyes fluttering shut briefly at the image. You had him right where you wanted him to be, stuck in state of wanting for the situation, offer right at his fingertips.
"How do you know he wants to?" Eddie's voice was shaky as he asked you, brow furrowed. You gave him a look, a silent 'really?' exchanged. You thought he had picked up on the looks Steve had been throwing him, you didn't even need to be around the two all the time to pick up on their sexual tension.
The bathroom door swung open, Steve standing there, flushed in the face as he avoided eye contact with the two of you. Pulling away from Eddie, you didn't adjust your clothing, the bottom exposure of your ass still on display. The front of his clothes were rumbled slightly towards his groin, shirt partially tucked in as if he had just had his hand stuffed down there. You chose to stare at that part of his body, finger coming up to fit between your teeth as he shifted nervously in front of the two of you.
"I'm going to-" He pointed down the hall, quickly leaving the scene before turning around, realizing he was going the wrong direction. You laughed at his descent down the stairs, feet tripping over one another as he scurried away. Eddie stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows raised as he followed Steve's trail.
You pulled down your skirt, adjusting your clothes as you stared down your boyfriend. His eyes held the staircase for a moment before landing on you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed together.
"Told you, babe."
You turned on your heel, following the direction that Steve had gone in to meet the group of teenagers at the bottom. You were giddy with emotion, excited to see where this weekend trip was going to take you.
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The younger teenagers had left Steve's house about an hour ago, mentioning something about how boring you all were. Eddie complained at the rude comment, yelling at Dustin to watch his tone. While you enjoyed the company of the teenagers, you felt relieved for Eddie to step out of his 'dad mode' as you called it, wanting to see just how far he would be able to take it without their presence.
Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had lingered behind, choosing to partake in the weed that Eddie had brought out once the kids disappeared. You stayed back, instead, wading in the pool on your lonesome.
Steve's jaw had dropped once you rid yourself of your clothing, a pink lace matching set beneath as you jumped into the pool. Robin was funny, you learned, she had picked up on the weird, yet obvious behavior he was giving you. She chose to tease him, enjoying the way he crumbled at each quip.
"Pick your jaw up, Steve," she laughed, reaching out to push his mouth closed. He swatted at her hand, blushing deeply as he looked at you to see if you had heard. You did.
The night continued between all of you, Jonathan coming out of his shell more as the drug took its effects, making Nancy cackle with laughter as he shared some story that had happened to him earlier that week. Steve sat at the edge of the pool this time, feet dipped in with his jeans pushed up to his mid-calf. Robin and Eddie sat together, once passing a joint between each other, but now long gone, instead leaning close in each other's personal space. Steve had even opened up, choosing to speak to you more openly than he did previously, a more flirtatious tone taking his words.
"Wanna come up here?" He asked, patting the ground next to him. Steam came off of the water, the heating of the pool being a direct contradiction to his next words. "I think it's much warmer next to me."
You laughed, splashing water in his direction as he blocked his face from the droplets. "I'm sure you'd love that."
"I'm just looking out for Eddie's girl," he said, voice low as he dropped his tone. You swam up to him, leaning your elbows up to the cold concrete. Your arm brushed against his thigh, a sharp sting running through the contact.
"And who's going to look out for you?" You brushed your wet hair from your face, tongue darting out to catch the droplets that crossed your lips. Steve's lip was chewed raw as his eyeline bore into you.
"I think you'd manage just fine," he said, your hand coming up to be placed on his knee. His leg widened slightly at the placement, your damp fingers darkening the material of his blue jeans. He became lost in the touch, mouth parted as he fixated on your fingers.
A curse escaped his lips as you pulled his leg, causing him to fall into the pool with a loud splash. The other teenagers laughed at him, watching the way he bobbed up out of the water, hair flying wildly around his face as he brushed it out of the way. His sweater was about six shades darker, falling heavily on his shoulders as it dripped.
"Fuck you," he laughed, pulling his sweater off of his body, tossing it onto the concrete where he previously sat. He pushed the water in your direction causing a huge splash of water to cover you. A small tussle in the water began, you begging him to stop through tears of laughter as he repeatedly threw water in your face. You tried getting him back, failing as his wingspan was much wider than your own.
Eddie stared at the two of you, smile tugging at his lips. He was more okay with this than he should be, his dick thinking before his brain, he figured. Your words earlier confused him, had him questioning if the strong emotion he had felt for Steve this entire time was really hate—or if it was something else.
Jonathan stood up, stretching as Nancy followed his lead, "Hey, man, I think we're going to head out. It's getting pretty late."
Eddie bid a goodbye, eyes lingering on the two of you as you messed around the pool, you on Steve's back before he stood up to his full height, sending you flying backwards into the water. The flash of your matching set had him hardening in his pants, the promise of what was going to come later on the tip of his tongue.
"Rob, you coming?" Nancy asked, now standing in front of the sliding glass door. Robin shrugged, leaning back on her elbows. Nancy stared at her as if she wanted to say something, while Jonathan stood there, yawning into his elbow.
"I think I might want to stay back, you know, hang out," she said, eyes fixated on the two of you messing around in the pool. Silence lingered between them, all three pairs of eyes on her for a moment before she noticed, glancing up at them. Her fingers stopped in their tracks, caught balled up as they rubbed against her eye.
Eddie's gaze was incredulous, a bored look crossing his face as the brunette sat there, confused for a moment. Nancy shifted where she stood, blinking rapidly as she tried to hint with her eyes towards the two of you in the pool.
Realization crossed her features as she finally looked over at the two of you, mouth dropping open. "Ohhh," she said, nodding slowly as she met Eddie's gaze. Her thumb pointed in the pool's direction, chipped black polish covering the nail. "You want to—with Steve—oohh, and your girl—"
With a shake of her head, she laughed out loud, clapping her hands together. Eddie blushed, hating the way that Robin was just so loud and bold with her statement. A smug look crossed her face as she stood up, smoothing out the back of her shorts with the palms of her hands. She smirked at Eddie, saying "Fucking finally." before walking in the direction of the couple at the door. Eddie laughed under his breath, disbelief in his mind as everyone seemed to have noticed before he had.
"What's going on?" He heard Jonathan whisper at Nancy before he was shoved inside by the girl, Robin's laugh echoing behind him as the door closed.
Focusing on the two of you in the pool, Eddie grew nervous at the situation becoming more real. The two of you had stopped play-fighting at this point, standing in front of each other—closer than you should've been—as you tread the water. Somewhere along the way, his pants had joined the discarded sweater, dripping on the concrete. It had been a struggle for him to get them off, him cursing at you as you laughed, watching him struggle with the wet denim.
Your voice was a low whisper as you spoke something to Steve, chin tilted down as you look at him through your lashes, wet as they clumped together. Eddie could recognize that look anywhere, knowing that it already had Steve crumbling inside. He watched as your hand came up to brush against the hair on his chest, finger running up to brush against the adam's apple, applying a little bit of pressure as Steve gulped beneath the touch.
You swam a bit closer to the man, aware that Eddie was watching from afar. Steve was nervous, you could tell by the way he remained silent and still in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, invading his personal space as you made a show of biting your lip.
Coming even closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing in relief as his hands came up to your waist below the water. He gave you the green light, welcoming your touch as nervous fingers found their place on your hips. Warmth found you, filling your body in the coolness surrounding you. Pressing your chest to his, you parted your lips, stopping inches before his mouth.
For a moment, you stood there, none of you daring to make the first move as you both stared at each other, gazes interchanging between eye contact and staring at your mouths.
Steve leaned in first, capturing your lips into his as you moaned softly, tangling your hand in the wet mat of his hair. His mouth was soft and warm as he kissed you, hand sprawling over the small of your back as he brought you further into him. Your knee hitched up, hooking around the back of his leg as your lips moved together.
Suddenly, Steve pulled away, realization crossing his face as he turned toward Eddie, who stared at the two of you, mouth dropped open. His hands didn't leave your waist though, fingers digging into the skin as he felt lost in the moment. Feeling his hesitation, you held onto him tighter, leaning up to whisper in his ear as your eyes remained on your boyfriend.
"It's okay, Steve," you said, dropping a hand around his neck to trail down his chest. His breathing quickened as his gaze remained on the older man. Eddie looked like a predator watching its prey, hand lingering on top of his bulge, yet not moving. "Eddie wants you, just as much as you want him."
Steve let out a small moan at your fingers dipping below his boxers. Your fingers brushed the skin there, running across the thatch of hair that sat on his pubic bone.
"You want him, Steve?" He nodded dumbly at your words, eyes fluttering as you gripped him, fingers closing around his cock. You pressed a kiss to a spot beneath his ear. He groaned, hips thrusting up as you began to work him. "And I'm sure you want me too, right, Steve?"
He turned his head towards you, capturing your lips into his as your fingers ran over the length of his cock. He panted into your mouth, hips rutting up into your hand as you made out with him, tongues becoming nearly one as the kiss became dirtier. The feeling of him on you had your pussy fluttering, a throbbing between your legs as you imagined him pressing inside of you, stretching you out as you choked on Eddie's cock.
"Baby?" Eddie called out, pulling you away from the kiss. Steve moved to follow your lips, a trail of saliva connecting you two. Giggling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, stopping him as he chased you.
"Yeah?" Your voice was rough as Steve snuck a hand down, pushing your panties aside so he could run a finger along your slit. He pressed his lips to your neck, marking the skin right next to where Eddie had earlier. Another rush was sent to your core as you realized you were being claimed by the prettiest boys in Hawkins.
"Come out, I need to touch you," Eddie stood up, proudly adjusting the bulge in his pants as he stared down at you two. You pulled away from the man, not ignoring the way he whined at the separation. His hand slowly left your panties, dipping quickly at your clit before he completely removed himself.
You climbed out of the pool, sitting on the ledge before swinging your legs over, standing up to run over to your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laughing as his hand reached down to grab at your ass, a loud smack filling the air. He leaned down to kiss the taste of Steve off of your lips, taking his time in the embrace. Pulling away, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, eyes looking over your head to Steve.
He remained in the pool, eyes low as one of his hands was below the water, running over his own hardness in his pants.
Eddie turned towards the door, walking with you in his hands before turning towards Steve. "You coming, Harrington?" The two of you stepped inside, hearing the commotion behind you as you made your way towards the stairs. It was a splash of water and a loud curse as he clambered out of the pool, nearly planting his face into the concrete as he ran to catch up to you two.
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You were pressed into the mattress, stomach flat on the bed as Steve hovered above you, hand on your neck to crane your head back to kiss him. The angle had your neck twisted, his cock digging into your ass as he lay above you. He ground his hips into you repeatedly, growing harder by each passing second as he moaned into your mouth.
Eddie's hands ran across your face as he sat in front of the two of you, legs splayed wide with his back pressed to the headboard. He lies almost completely naked, boxers pushed to his mid thigh as he ran his hand over his cock, working it to the sight of you and Steve making out above it.
It was the most compromising position you had found yourself in, heat flowing between your legs as all of your senses were filled with the men around you. Eddie groaned loudly as Steve's hand reached down between your legs to rub at your pussy, fingers dipping behind the lace of your underwear. Widening your legs with his own, he pushed a finger inside of you, smiling at the way you moaned into his mouth, saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth as you pushed your ass into his hips.
"Fuck," you moaned, working your hips to meet his pumps half way. Dropping your head down to rest on Eddie's thigh, you groaned at the feeling, your own hand reaching up to replace Eddie's. His head hit the back of the headboard, a bead of precum dripping out of the head.
Steve removed himself from you, the heat leaving you whining even as he pulled you up to your knees, pushing down the small of your back so you arched up into the air. You leaned on your elbows, briefly glancing behind you as Steve pulled down the lace panties, leaving them stretched between your knees.
Eddie's hand came up to lace in your head, tugging your towards his cock as you mewled at the feeling of Steve's tongue on you, lapping between your folds. It had you jumping, eyes fluttering closed before you wrapped your lips around the head of Eddie's cock. A groan in unison flew from all of your mouths as you pushed your hips back, grinding into Steve's face as you simultaneously pushed further down on Eddie.
Eddie's hand tangled into your hair to stop you from deep throating him, feeling his orgasm already building up in him as he looked at Steve licking into you. The man's eyes were shut as he dipped his tongue in and out of you, flattening his tongue to run up your slit, daring to flick his tongue over your hole, cheeks pulled apart to expose you completely. Eddie groaned as you hollowed your cheeks, hand moving to cup at his balls, bobbing your head over him. The two of you were so locked into the moment, it made his head spin.
"Fuck, Harrington," Eddie groaned, widening his legs as you jerked him, tongue running up his length from his balls to the tip. Spit and precum covered your lips as you sucked at the tip, staring up at him. "You look like you love that shit."
Steve hummed, eyes darting open to find Eddie staring at him, hands tangled in your hair as you choked on him. He smirked, nodding as he leaned down to suck at your clit. You moaned again, hips pressing back into his face.
"She tastes good," he muttered in between licks, tongue darting at your ass as he slipped two fingers inside. You fluttered around him, sticky white covering his fingers as they moved inside of you.
"You wanna fuck her next?" Eddie asked, pulling your hair out of your eyes as he began to slowly fuck your throat, enjoying the way you gagged around him when he pushed too far. You moaned at the conversation, both boys pretending like you weren't even there as they spoke about you.
Steve lifted his head, eyes focused on his fingers as they moved inside of you, other hand thumbing at your ass, watching the way he arched into the touch. Dipping his thumb inside, you moaned, another glob of slick falling around his fingers.
Looking up at Eddie, Steve nodded, cock pressed into the side of your ass from the angle he kneeled at. A third finger pressed into you and you pulled off of Eddie, your hand replacing your mouth as you whined into his hip.
"Fuck--I need something, baby," you moaned, pushing your hips back into Steve as he fingered you. Eddie nodded at your words, understanding the overstimulating emotion you felt. He sat up, fingers running through your hair as your mouth was drawn up in a silent sob, eyes squeezed shut.
"Move, Harrington," he said, squeezing the base of his cock as you panted into his thigh. His orgasm was on its verge, threatening to burst as Steve leaned down to shove his face even further into you than before, tongue moving rapidly as you rocked against his face.
Steve hummed a 'no', his fingers leaving you to rub at your clit, rubbing faster as you began to whine, hips twitching at his movements. It was almost too much for you, your orgasm flowing through you as you felt blinded, a scream caught in your throat. You buried your face into Eddie's thigh, fingers digging marks into his skin as you rode it out.
Eddie's fingers ran through your hair, irritation on his face as Steve slowly straightened up, smirk on his wet face. He licked your remnants off of him, hand shoved down the front of his boxers.
"You're such a brat, you know that, Harrington?" Eddie grumbles, maneuvering you so you lay on your back. You stared at the ceiling as you caught your breath, eyes fixated on Eddie as he crawled over to Steve.
His hand came up to grip his face, fingers digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look into his eyes. Steve's smirk was wide, eyes darting between Eddie's mouth and eyes.
"You're going to do something about it, then?" You moaned as Eddie crashed his lips into the younger man's, his clothed cock rubbing against Eddie's exposed one. The noises they made were pornographic, Steve running his hands over his hair, his back, his chest, anything he could touch. You could tell the moment had been building up for a while, their mouths moving over each other like they had been starved. Eddie pulled away first, reaching down to smack at Steve's ass.
"Go lay down."
Steve threw himself beside you, head tilted in your direction as he looked at you, chest heaving, breasts exposed. He reached up to grab one, fingers running slowly over the nipple as your eyes fluttered shut.
"Get up, I want you to ride him, baby."
Eddie's voice had you shivering, legs shaking as you stood up on shaky knees, palms pressed to Steve's chest. You grabbed his boxers, sliding them down his legs before tossing them to the side. You threw a leg over his waist, sitting on him, cock nudged in the cave of your pussy.
You moved your hips slowly, grinding against him as he moaned beneath you, head falling into the pillows as his hands found your hips, guiding your movements. Eddie kneeled behind you, boxers discarded now as his wet cock nudged into your back.
"Bend over, baby," He whispered into your ear, pressing a palm flat to your back as you leaned to press your chest into Steve. You kissed him, moving as you felt Eddie reach between you, guiding Steve into you. He was dripping wet, head pulsating as he pressed into you, slowly stretching you out.
The both of you moaned into each other's mouths, one of Eddie's hands running down the shaft of Steve's dick and the other pressing your hips down onto him. Once fully seated, you moaned, hips twitching as you felt him pressed in all the right places. Eddie's hands went to move you, raising slightly before stopping, your hands gripping at his waist as you tilted your hand to look back at him. He was fixated on where you two met, tongue poked out the corner of his mouth.
"Gimme a sec- I needa second-" You whined, not used to the width. Where Eddie lacked in girth, he made up in length, head often catching onto your cervix, having you whining, running from the brutal, yet blinding feeling most often. You felt Steve laugh slightly, the movement of his body having you drop your head to his chest, vibrations running through your body.
"I know, baby," Eddie whispered, moving your hips slowly as he guided the rise and fall of your hips. Steve stretched you out good, eyes squeezed shut as his moans carried in the air, arms wrapped around your torso. "Come here, baby."
You sat up, grimacing at the way you sank deeper. Eddie brought you to his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder as his hand snaked down, rubbing circles over your sensitive clit, breathing deep into your ear. He guided you with his other hand, not slowing down as he bounced you, eyes on Steve as he fell apart below you.
Eddie's guidance was brutal, not allowing you to slow down as you and Steve neared closer to your breaking points. Every touch Steve tried to give you, Eddie smacked it away causing Steve to curse at him, frustration amidst his high. He pulled at his hair, hands running over his face as he brought a pillow over him. You heard him shout into the pillow, feet coming up to rest on the bed as his knees bent, using the angle to fuck into you harder.
You came for a second time that night, a shout on your lips as Steve hips paused below you, filling you up as you clenched around him. Eddie let out a low laugh as he let go of you, watching the way you fell forward, chest smacking into Steve as he pulled the pillow away from his face.
"How was that, Harrington?" He teased, ignoring the way Steve threw the middle finger at him, running his other hand over your forehead, wiping the strands of loose hair that stuck to the skin. He slipped out of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
Eddie leaned over you, your body sandwiched between the two men as you felt him prod at your entrance, pushing the cum that dripped out of you back in with his cock. You whined, pressing your face into Steve's shoulder as he pushed inside.
"Tell me if it's too much, baby," He whispered against your skin, hips moving slowly into you as you pushed back against him. His hips stuttered with each movement, you knew he was close before he even began. The overstimulation had you whining, a deep ache forming between your legs. His fingers dipped in between you, gripping at your boob as he fucked into you. You mouthed at Steve's neck, feeling his fingers run over your forearms, soothing you through Eddie's hips stuttering into you. Profanities fell from his lips, having you fall apart with each word.
You're so beautiful, baby, fuck—you look so good on my dick.
Such a slut, such a slut for me.
His hands wrapped around your throat, forcing your head back to look at Steve, head jerking forward with each movement of his hips.
Such a slut for Steve, too, huh, baby?
Look at him, baby, he loves this shit.
Steve moaned, cock stirring up again as you fell apart between the two of them, dripping down onto him.
Think you can cum again? Cum on my cock, show the brat what a good girl looks like. You think you can do that? Cum for him, and maybe we both can be inside of you... think about it, both of our cocks ins-
You shouted, eyes rolling back as your final orgasm left your body. Eddie followed suit, already hanging on by a thread, waiting for your cue before letting go. His orgasm was loud, a FUCK escaping his lips as he spilled inside of you.
He let you drop against Steve fully this time, listen to the whispers of him soothing you in your ear, you did so good. He collapsed next to the two of you, chest heaving as he watched the way Steve grabbed you in his arms, your head nestled into his chest. He hated to admit it, but you looked good in his arms, even better with the two of them surrounding you.
He felt Steve's eyes on him, glancing up at his doe eyes, wide as they bore into him.
"So... is this something we talk about or...?" Steve's voice was raspy, hand running circles into your back. You had fallen asleep, quickly and silently as every ounce of you was spent.
Eddie laughed, his own hand coming up to rest on you. Subconsciously, you leaned into the touch, a deep sigh spent into Steve's skin.
"I'm pretty sure everyone already knows," he muttered, laughing at the look on Steve's face. His mouth sputtered open, swallowing deeply.
"They said that?" Eddie's heart began racing at his look, nervous at the man's look. He didn't want to fuck this up, whatever this was. His feelings had been pushed down too far, for too long; he didn't want to confess, just to be rejected again.
"No, but—uh, I think that's why they left," he said, gaze dropping from Steve boring into him. "Rob said something about 'finally' before... they left."
Steve stayed silent, nodding as he looked down at you in his arms, snuggling into the heat of his arms. He didn't know what to say for a moment, opening his mouth repeatedly as he took back the sentences he began, but didn't finish.
An awkward silence lingered in the air, Eddie turning over as he figured Steve wouldn't say anything else in the moment.
"Well, I guess that takes care of it, then," his voice cut through the air, Eddie's head whipping around to stare at him, eyes wide with the fear of his next words. "Makes it easier for, ya'know."
Eddie laughed out loud, shocked at how this moment could've passed so much easier. "Makes it easier for what, Harrington? Us fucking each other?"
Steve blushed, a quick nod thrown to him. "Guess you could say that."
You sighed, lifting your hand to grab at Eddie's shoulder. Both boys looked at you, surprised at the movement as you should've been asleep, deaf to the conversation around you. You peaked your eye open at them, squinting in the bright light of the room.
"This means I have to visit more often, yeah?" Steve's laughter vibrated you, his chest shaking as Eddie leaned up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You preened at the touch, blushing as he looked down at you. Both boys were beautiful, smiles wide as their laughter carried through the room. It was a shock how you didn't implode right then and there, heart full as they held you.
a/n: I didn't know how to end it, don't hate me. I also don't know how to write anything less than 5k.
Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3
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skipper1331 · 2 months
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Secret // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | extra |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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fever dream | sebastian vettel
part 2 part 3
warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!
AN: THIS SAY THAT SEB AND THE READER WERE TEAM MATER FOR 2014 AND 2015 THATS A MISTAKE SORRY I ONLY MEANT TO PUT 2014 😭
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INSTAGRAM (private account)
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liked by lewishamilton, yoursistersaccount and 24 others
yourusername a short trip back home 🤍
lewishamilton enjoy it!
yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍
lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more
yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home
yourusername 🤍 love you
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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”
but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.
“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.
“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.
“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.
“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”
“alison!”
the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.
“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.
“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”
“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.
“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.
“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.
“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”
or a mother.
only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.
you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.
“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”
you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.
“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.
“hello?”
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princessbrunette · 4 months
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CRUSH ♡
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… based loosely on the song crush by ethel cain ⊹˚. ♡
pairing: linecook!jj maybank + sweetheart!reader
synopsis: you’re head over heels for your bad-boy coworker, jj— the linecook for the outerbanks beachside restaurant you waitress at. a customer spilling coffee over your uniform catalysts a chain of events.
cw: a gun but no violence, shitty customers, jj being jj, smut.
You didn’t really know about restaurant employee culture until you started your job as a waitress. Stereotypes, things that fate would just simply decide to come true in every single restaurant no matter what. Waitresses were either the sweetest people you’d ever met or the bitchiest, managers had favourites and if you weren’t one of them they treat you like shit, the kid who gets stuck on dishwasher duty was always younger than everyone and fell in love with all the waitresses— uber specific and odd stuff. Oh, and that linecooks were troubled, or whores.
JJ Maybank was more troubled than the latter. Well, you’d hoped so anyways. You’d had a crush on the blonde linecook from your very first day, a quieter morning at the beginning of spring when the beachside restaurant was criminally understaffed. Your manager had appointed him to show you around before either of you had even made it inside, the tough older woman calling him out as he arrived to work, climbing off his bike, chewing on a toothpick with headphones over his ears. Your heart had fluttered when he bantered with the older woman, pointing to the music-playing-muffs over his ears, mouthing an ‘I can’t hear you, sorry’ when she’d approached him.
You’d felt embarrassed almost, like you were taking up his time. He was clearly comfortable here, had a good relationship with everybody— even the manager who seemed to hate the world tenfold. She’d yanked off his headphones and jut her thumb towards you as he stared her down with a mischievous grin.
“Maybank, I need you to show around the newbie— uh, what’s your name again sweetheart?” She spins to you, and for the first time JJ’s eyes flicker towards you, brows jumping up just a hair, a micro-expression that only you could hold onto for hope. Hope that he might be a little interested. You speak your name, and he’s swerving around the manager in his white tshirt, apron tied lazily around his waist, hung down, not even wearing it over his shirt like he’s meant to, black backwards cap over blonde messy hair.
“Well it is very nice to meet you ma’am.” He juts out a hand with a stupidly large grin that makes you feel even more shy.
You remember that day so clearly, the blonde showing you the ropes, practically training you whilst your manager chain smoked out the back. You remembered how you hadn’t had a proper school-girl style crush like this since forever, and one day into working at the restaurant you were already head over heels for the loud and hyperactive Pogue.
A few months down the line, and your bond had blossomed. Well, somewhat — it was a busy restaurant, lots of waitresses and cooks and customers. There wasn’t always time for chit-chat and flirting. Which sometimes you were grateful for, plates clanking awkwardly in your hands as you spot a more confident waitress trying her luck with him, hair twirled around a long finger. You were delusional enough to believe JJ seemed politely disinterested at the least, choosing to busy himself with ruffling the top of your head with his knuckles as you pass by him, hiding your smile at his acknowledgment.
You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends. You’d hoped not anyway, dreading being stuck in the friendzone with the guy you’d spent months pining after. You couldn’t be friends because you’d never hung out with him outside of work, not that you’d deny him but he’d never asked. You’d seen him around, don’t get it twisted — that group of friends of his; the brunette one who always seemed to be the talk of the town, the darker skinned boy who seemed too smart to be slumming it on a boat smoking weed, and a girl — who laughed at all of JJ’s jokes and threw glares to anyone she deemed too ‘Kook-y’. That was some serious intel, but you swear up and down you weren’t a stalker— just paying attention when you’d see him outside of the workplace.
JJ made it clear you were his favourite waitress. Well, he’d said it himself, holding a plate just out of your reach when you’d come to collect an order, playful smirk on his face as he stares down at you. “Can I have my order?” you pretend to hate it, hiding your smile as you huff, reaching out.
“I dunno, I could almost swear there’s a magic word that you’re missing there, girlie. Y’wanna help me out with that? Orrrr…” He tilts his head, playing dumb and you let the smile free— cheeks pushing up as you gaze at his stupid expression.
“Please, JJ.” You offer sweetly instead of sassing him, which makes his heart clench a little because you were just an absolute sweetheart by nature. He lowers the plate, hovering it above your palm and giving you a more serious look.
“Plates hot, alright? Better be careful with those delicate mittens.” You roll your eyes bashfully and he presses it into your palm. The plate was warm at best, it seeming that JJ would say anything just to keep the conversation going longer than it needed to.
“Thank you.” You smile once it was in your hand and he nods, faux solemnly as he backs off back to his work station, ignoring the knowing stare from his partner linecook.
“So polite, s’why you’re my favourite, princess.” He points with a wink and you turn away before he can see how flustered it made you. Princess, are you kidding me? It’s like he wanted to make you drop the plate. He watches the door swing as you head back out into the bustling restaurant, and jumps a little in surprise when he turns back to come face to face with another linecooks smirk.
“Playin’ favourites, huh Maybank?”
The blonde itches his cheek, bashful with a shrug— going back to chopping a carrot like he was before.
“Yeah well— doesn’t everyone do that here?” He tries to brush it off, head swivelling to glance back at the door, just incase you overheard.
“Yeah… yeah, chose a pretty one though, I’ll give you that. Lemme know when you’re done with it, I wanna play.” He speaks with a stomach-turning smile, and certainly doesn’t miss the way JJ’s jaw clenches, knife nearly going not only through the carrot but the chopping board too. Dont cause a scene now, Jayj.
JJ was troubled, like you’d said. You’d heard whispers from waitresses or friends of a friend outside of work — things about his father always being in jail, the blonde himself ending up in overnight cells a series of times. You’d heard about fights, his name always ringing close to the scene, even car chases and rumours about his run ins with big time criminals— but you wasn’t sure how verifiable any of these were.
It didn’t seem totally far fetched though, the Pogue occasionally showing up to his shift with his head down, a new bruise splattered on his cheek bone or a gnarly gash. He had one the day things changed, a cut through his lip, gone almost black from blood constantly drying after he’d assumably lick it open. From a glance, it almost looked like a lip-ring, and he sported it well with a large greenish yellow bruise beside his eye over his temple. You wish you felt close enough to ask where they came from, but knew that would be prying. You didn’t even wanna listen in when you’d see the manager nod him into her office to give him ‘the talk’ and ask about it presumably, which you’d also guessed she’d gained no information from as he’d leave her office looking casual whilst she still wore that slightly frustrated and worried look on her face.
Everyone seemed to be in a weird mood that day, even the customers. It wasn’t really his fault, the man somehow backing into you abruptly enough for you to spill an old container of coffee all down yourself. Well, to rephrase — it was an accident, which was actually the best case scenario considering you’d had drinks poured down you on purpose for making them wrong before.
You get that awful coil of embarrassment in your stomach when you walk into the kitchen, beige staining right through your usual pristine uniform and falling in droplets off the ends of your hair. JJ sees the pout before the stains, and it comes as no surprise to the other linecooks when he rushes over like prince charming.
“You good? Someone do that to you?” He’s already trying to bound past you to go and ‘handle the situation’ (AKA, kick them out) but you shake your head— not really upset just tired, and now cold thanks to the old coffee soaking through to your skin.
“It was an accident. I don’t have anything to change into so I don’t know if I should just… go home, or something.” You hold your hands out in frustration, looking down at yourself.
“Oh, nah— don’t sweat it. Got a spare shirt in my locker you can wear. S’just a white t-shirt, should do the trick.” He steps backwards.
“But it’s not uniform?” You furrow your brows and he huffs out a chuckle at you always being such a stickler for following the rules. “Our manager will have my head, surely.”
“Think she’d rather that than you walkin’ round smellin’ like cold brew.” He fishes through his pockets and tosses you a small key with a red triangle keychain on the end, the key to his locker in the staff cloakroom. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks Jayj.” You smile, excusing yourself shyly at the use of the nickname you’ve heard others use on him but always chickened out on. He noticed, because he shows all his teeth when he smiles and nods, turning back around.
The cloakroom always smells weird— like mulch and rubber, a cold and windowless room with a bench and a wall of seafoam lockers. You flip the key in your hand, spotting the number on the back and match it to the lockers. Wearing JJ’s shirt, huh — you smile to yourself, feeling giddy and stupid at the butterflies that brush their wings against the inside of your stomach. He was just doing you a favour, sure — but you got to prance around wearing him all day, and that was enough to fuel your delusion. You off your stained shirt, leaving you in just a small and flimsy tank top that you usually wear beneath it incase of accidents like this.
You open the locker, and something black immediately drops out onto the floor, echoing loudly and bouncing once a tiny bit by your feet. The weird clinical lighting of the cloakroom casts a dark shadow below where your head searches down for it, so you move slightly— brows furrowing when you see the shape of it.
Your brain clearly hasn’t processed or caught up with just quite what you’re looking at as you bend down, lips parted as you pick the item up in your hand, standing back to full height once more. In your hand, you stared directly at a gun. A pistol, to be precise. You seem to be in shock, the weapon glued to your hand despite anyone being able to walk in and get you fired and or reported to the police within a matter of seconds. You turn the weapon in your hand in fascination, whispering a “What the…” to yourself.
JJ leans against the doorway with a forearm, just now remembering what resided in that very locker other than the shirt he so generously offered. He’s distracted for a moment by your skin, the skin on the back of your arms and your back as you stand with your uniform shirt bunched in your hand, until of course he spots what’s held in your other hand and physically winces.
“Shit, uh—” JJ vocalises and your head snaps around, sighing in relief once you see that it’s just him. You’re back to marvelling in shock at the item in an instant, ogling between him and the weapon. “So, that’s — that’s not what it looks like—”
“A gun?” You whisper the second word, looking up at him with wide eyes and he points the pistol downwards with his finger when you hold it accidentally facing him.
“Well, okay I mean yes — it’s a gun, but I had no choice. Had to momentarily keep it here, alright? I took it in for a friend and —”
“What are you, some kind of hitman?” You shake your head, earrings jangling a little with your stressed little gesture which would usually warm his heart if he wasn’t focused on deescalating.
“Okay, first of all— why don’t I take this from you missy,” He eases the gun out of your hands and accidentally fumbles it inside his locker, the weapon clattering against the echoey walls making him let out a quiet ‘whoops’ before placing a black gym bag on top of it. He turns to you. “Secondly, no okay I’m not a hitman— I haven’t ever shot a person with this thing.”
“Then… why do you have it?” You furrow your brows, seeming to have calmed down a little, which was relieving despite your reaction being totally valid.
“W—you know, gotta stay strapped. Protect my people.” He shrugs, attempting nonchalance and your eye twitches, realising how different the two of you are. JJ, bad boy with a gun in his locker— and you, straight arrow waitress. “Look all m’saying is if you told me someone was messing with you… I wouldn’t hesitate.”
You stare at him dumbfounded, wondering what on Earth he was going through to lead him to owning a gun, but you daren’t ask— even now. You eye him, brows knitting cutely.
“And you’re sure you’re not some serial killer?” You ask, folding your arms. Mostly joking. Mostly.
“Yeah nah I couldn’t do the whole choppin’ up dead bodies thing, m’pretty squeamish n’I got this thing with my gag reflex where y’know, I — I just—” He gestures to his throat, head bobbing with a preemptive gag but sees the way you’re staring at him like he’d just stepped off a space ship from Mars and decides against the bit, clearing his throat and glancing into his locker. “Enough of that uh— why don’t I go ahead and grab you that shirt you were after…” He reaches inside his locker, pulling out balled up white shirt, quickly turning it back from being inside out.
“There y’go…” He murmurs as he does so to no one in particular before shoving his arms inside and pulling the head hole wider before stuffing you inside it, tugging it until your head pops out, still staring at him a little dumbfounded. “Peekaboo.” He smiles nervously before leaving you to shove your own arm holes through, pulling it down over your tank top. He awkwardly watches before you hand him back his key and he locks his locker once more, glancing around at you.
“So about the—”
“Your secrets safe with me JJ. Thanks for the shirt.”
You swan around in the white fabric like it’s a ball gown for the rest of the day. Delusional didn’t feel like the right word, no— he gave you the shirt, which in your head is flirting— handing you the opportunity to daydream about being his girlfriend and wearing his clothes all the time. Each time you moved you could smell him on you, that faint smell of cigarettes and just him — reminding you of the times you’ve caught him on a rough shift fumbling for a pack of Marlboro Red’s and heading out the back door to be angsty for a while before returning with a plastered on smile. You bite your lip, staring into space as you rub the material between your fingers, waiting for a table to flag you down, excited for the next time you could go into the kitchen and see him… have him see you, wearing his shirt only hoping it hot-wires his brain with some sort of romantic association. Oh, JJ Maybank. He just made you so… so…
“Ugh, mmph JJ!” You cry out, later that night. Guilty, you ended up in nothing but the t-shirt and two fingers stuffed into your weeping cunt. You felt kind of perverse, despite the million promises to yourself to wash the shirt immediately after to return to him— but also there was just something painfully arousing about touching yourself wearing it— every layer beneath it removed to have your hardened nipples peak beneath the thin white fabric, tousled and jostled up where your ribcage was as you grind your digits inside of you.
You were home alone, like usual — which gave you the perfect opportunity to moan his name. Too horny to care about the 0.05% chance he’s strolling in your area and walking past the window, hearing. Even the idea of that aroused you further in the moment, wondering just what he’d think if he knew the sweet and harmless waitress was defiling her cunt in his name, in his shirt. You think about best case scenario, the blonde with his rough hand around his cock— and you knew it was rough from the way it felt when he’d touch your arm or brush against your fingers when handing you a dish. Rough from working on his bike and handling hot food and other Maybank shenanigans that still lead him to fist at his dick in his room at night thinking of you, you and only you.
You cum in your palm and feel disgraced. Poor JJ. You’re a total pervert and you must wash that shirt.
Except you don’t, and you fall asleep— returning to work in your spare uniform the next day. Empty handed. JJ doesn’t notice, hell — he doesn’t care. He’s stacked up with so many orders you almost feel bad even though it’s not your fault. Maybe you’re still riding off the guilt of masturbating in his shirt. There’s a sick sense of pride that twists in your gut when you look at him though. Boyish, sometimes thoughtless blonde with no idea that you came so hard moaning his name just a matter of hours before facing him again. You catch him in a quieter moment, leaning over to his station with a stressed expression to tell him that you forgot to bring his shirt back, to which he just responds with a shrug and a careless wave that read as ‘It’s cool.’ That was the JJ you knew. Cool, calm, didn’t give a shit. You got butterflies at the minute gesture. God, get a grip.
The next time it comes up, it’s because he brings it up. Catching you on your break, a cheekful of pasta he’d made for you to quickly cram down before your manager gets onto you for slacking off— JJ approaches your little table outside, blonde hair feathery and light in the sun. “Howdy there, shirt thief.” He grins lightheartedly, pulling out the other chair on the small circle table you sat at and straddling it backwards, leaning his arms on the backrest.
You nearly choke on your pasta at the speed you go to explain yourself— way to not make yourself seem guilty. “It’s in the washing machine, I literally just kept forgetting I’m sorry JJ.” You look all sweet and worried in the way that makes him wanna pinch your cheeks, so he fiddles with his lighter instead, flicking it on and off in his grasp.
“Nah you’re good.” He chuckles, staring out at the water the restaurant overlooked. It was a windier day, and even from where you sat you could hear the loud roaring of distant waves. “Hey uh— you want a ride home on the old bike? I can come in and grab it if like— if that’s cool.” He suggests, almost seeming a bit hesitant, nervous even.
“Oh! Yeah, I mean I’d have to stick it in the dryer first but you’re free to hang out whilst it dries… unless you really gotta go then, you can have your shirt back damp, I guess.” You mirror the nervous energy tenfold, practically stumbling over yourself to not sound as eager as you were. JJ, in your house.
“Yeah, sweet. Cool cool cool cool.” He bops his head, drumming on the table before suddenly his name was called from inside.
“Maybank! These fish aren’t gonna fry themselves, you know that right?” The tough, unmistakable chain smoker voice of your manager rings through the air and JJ winces theatrically for your entertainment, making you giggle the same way a child might after a party clown does something stupid. It was kind of pathetic, but atleast JJ found it endearing.
You weren’t lying about the shirt, thankfully. Honest — the JJ smell was gone so you’d tossed it in the washing machine before you’d head out onto your shift, planning on finally (reluctantly) returning it the next day.
He pushes himself up to leave, before pausing and leaning over the table towards you. You freeze, and he brings his thumb to your cheek — swiping away a speck of sauce from the pasta that has splattered into your skin from how greedily you wolfed down his food. “Lemme just… get that for you.” He mutters as he does so, turning his thumb around to show you the sauce stain that had transferred to his skin and ease your confusion.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he holds your gaze as he leans back, bringing his thumb to his mouth, cleaning off the sauce. Oh, you sick bastard. He doesn’t even try and hide his smirk— and you stare dumbly at the space he stood even after he’s long gone.
The shift dragged on, tip tapping your feet whenever you stood still for too long, excited bubbles in your stomach fizzing up like shaken pop everytime you thought about the linecook. It felt like hours longer than usual, but finally — the end of your shift came. JJ’s had ended twenty minutes earlier, being replaced by another chef whose plates were always too hot and spoke too loud, making the last stretch of your working hour even tougher. You thought JJ might have forgotten about your little arrangement, just taking off to head home or to go and smoke on the rickety little boat you’d seen him on— but lo and behold, you step out the doors to that wretched place and there he is, leaning on his bike like something out of an 80s movie.
“No helmet?” You’re grinning by the time you reach him, barely containing your excitement. You don’t think you’ve even been on the back of one of these bikes before, let alone with the boy you’re crushing on. JJ scrunches his nose, wincing.
“Wasn’t countin’ on having anyone else on board today, that’s my bad.” He helps you climb on, ensuring you’re sat securely. “I’m a good driver, you’ll be alright. Just uh— hold on tight and I’ll avoid any big potholes, yeah?” He reaches back, taking your arms and wrapping them around his middle, forcing you against his warm back. He’d probably done that for plenty of people, the way it came naturally to him— but in that moment you didn’t care, just nodding as you leant more against him. You tell him your address, and he recognises it, someone he knows living near by. With that, the two of you are off.
You’re truly in bliss, closing your eyes with your cheek pressed to his back, wind whipping past your face. He is a good driver, and you dare even let yourself believe he’s being extra careful with you on board, none of the harsh turns or skids you’ve seen him do on the streets alone. Your cheeks start to ache with how much you’re smiling.
“You all good back there my lil’ backpack?” He pats your leg in a friendly manner at a stop light and you giggle, embarrassed with how fast goosebumps break out.
“Yeah, this is fun!” You yell at an unnecessary volume to be heard over the running engine, making him chuckle and glance round at you.
“Good, that’s good.”
You’re almost sad when the ride is over, his wheels coming to a slow as he parks up haphazardly beside your front lawn. You’re quick to pat your head down, knowing that journey must have you looking dishevelled at best and hop off the bike, patting the pocket of your shorts for your keys.
“My humble abode awaits.” You chirp, cringing afterwards but he smirks and follows you regardless, pulling up his pants boyishly as he stalks behind you up to your front door. Inside your head is a chant, one that consists of hoping and praying your parents wouldn’t be home so you didn’t have to do the whole awkward explanation thing, not that you didn’t have a totally valid excuse — and you were grown, so interacting with boys shouldn’t be the awkward dilemma that it was — but to them you were still their sweet girl regardless of age, and you’d like to keep it that way, which wouldn’t be possible being spotted ushering Pogue King JJ Maybank into your bedroom.
You unlock the door, calling out a ‘hello’ to be met with miraculous silence. JJ shuffles in behind you, closing the door for you and whistling quietly. “This place is pretty fancy, yeah… bet you got like, an electric toothbrush n’shit.” He comments, neck craning to look around as he follows you slowly through the house.
You huff a laugh out your nose, cheeks pressing upwards as you stroll through toward the kitchen. “An electric toothbrush?” You question.
“Yeaaah man, kook shit.” He peers nosily at the calendar, eyeing the events your family have coming up.
You spot a note pinned to the fridge and head towards it, shaking your head. “If I was a kook I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant getting coffee poured down me. Are electric toothbrushes the pinnacle of wealth in your eyes?” You laugh quietly, pulling the note off the fridge.
“Dude in eighth grade I lost my toothbrush and for a year all I had was my finger, some toothpaste and a dream.” He chats, appearing directly behind you and plucking the note from your hand. “Out ‘til late, pizza in fridge.” He reads blankly out loud and you take it back from him, tossing it aside.
“How’d you lose a toothbrush?” You chuckle, leading him out the kitchen.
“I be in situations.” He shrugs, following you to the short flight of stairs. To his core, JJ was truly just a guy— and took very little pride in watching you climb a few steps before he joined you so that he could check out your ass.
“Bet your dentist loved you.” You comment, glancing behind you at him making his eyes snap upwards guilty. He scoffs, wiping his hands on his pants like he was worried about dirtying up your house before grasping onto the bannister, skipping a few steps to hop up.
“Yeah, like I could afford one of those.”
On the landing, you point him towards the hallway, stepping back once you realised you were practically standing on top of him. He didn’t seem to notice, or mind, staring down at you for direction. “My rooms the last door on the right. I’m gonna go toss your shirt in the dryer, ‘kay?”
He nods once, strolling in the direction you pointed him. “Yes ma’am.”
You head to the laundry room and take a moment to collect yourself, sniffing his shirt to make sure it was properly clean before stuffing it into the dryer to turn it on. You lean against its circular door as it starts up, taking a breath before realising you left JJ Maybank alone in your bedroom.
You arrive at the door to your girly haven, immediately yanking a pair of panties off the ground and throwing them into a corner as you spot the blonde by the window, curiously looking around.
“So this is where the magic happens, I assume.” He glances at you, swiping his hat off his head and placing it on your dresser. Something about his gaze and the way it continually flickered to you, waiting for an answer suggested it was a genuine question. He was asking if you were seeing anyone, perhaps. You giggle.
“And if by magic you mean napping after work and reading books, yeah. It gets so magical in here, you wouldn’t believe it.” You sit on your bed, watching him semi-awkwardly pace infront of you, running hands through his hair before stuffing them into his pockets.
“Ah yeah, ha— forgot you were a real good girl. Should stay that way, I like it— and I mean like, there’s hella weirdos round here. Y’know? Better to… steer clear.” He rambles as you watch him with a smile. At work, the blonde seemed more calm, in his element— but here, in your terrain— he seemed slightly more on edge. You tried not to read into it.
Your stomach warms at the ‘good girl’ comment, lashes fluttering only a little before he’s distracted once more. You see him gazing ahead at the shelf above your vanity, opposite the bed where all your baby photos were lined up. His smile grows, and you see the cogs turn in his head.
He strides towards it in an instant, taking the framed image off the shelf. You jump up, following him to try and save yourself the embarrassment of whatever he was looking at but it was too late. He grins, turning his head to look down at you. “Oh wow, now don’t tell me this is you?” He holds the photo up beside your head, glancing theatrically between the two to compare and you bat him away.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re nosy?”
“Oh yeah, all the time. That, that is adorable though.” He’s immediately distracted by another photo, setting the one in his hand down to pick it up. “And who’s this?” He lifts the picture of your mother holding you as a baby.
“My mother.”
“Total fox. As expected.”
“Okay, no more for you.” You hide your amusement well, reaching out for the photo and grabbing it. He puts up little fight, letting you snatch the frame from his larger hand as he reaches for another, making a total mess of your embarrassing nostalgia display. This last picture is of you, around 5 years old— adorned in a pink princess dress and a plastic tiara, grinning at the camera.
“Aw.” He smirks, turning his body to face you. “Guess some things never change. Still a pretty princess.” You’re not sure if he’s mocking you now, because he’s tonguing at the cut on his lip which makes you gain a second heartbeat in your panties and you freeze up— which in itself is more embarrassing that this whole ordeal. He was a tease by nature he’ll admit, but this — this was fun. Seeing you get flustered was his new favourite thing.
You give him the exact reaction he’s after, failing to hide your smile as you lurch for the frame. He hides it behind his back and you stumble into him, stabilising yourself with both hands on his chest. He’s all… warm, and firm.
There’s a silence, but things are never quiet for too long with JJ. Thankfully.
“Damn, if you wanted to touch me up you could’a just asked. Pro’lly would’a said yes.” The smirk is yet to fade, infact you think it’s permanently stamped onto his mouth and your eyes widen just a smidge— scrambling for a witty comeback that didn’t make you look like a perverse idiot.
“I dunno, after you made fun of my baby pictures? Think I owe you two black eyes.” You tilt your head sweetly, proud of the response and his eyes flicker over your expression, eyes softening just a tad. Or maybe you imagined it.
“‘Think that’s a little extreme. How ‘bout a kiss instead?” You freeze, because it’s then you realise how close the two of you are still. Hes practically got you caged against your vanity, can probably hear how fast he’s got your heart beating— maybe smell the pathetic dribble of arousal seeping into your underwear just from being this close to him. You can’t tell if he’s kidding, and it seems he even caught himself a little off guard, blinking a few times during your stunned silence.
But then you look at his mouth, because asking a question like that is totally giving you permission to do so, and he takes that as an answer and leans in.
You’re so hypnotised when his mouth starts moving against yours that you nearly jump out of your skin when his large hands bracket your waist, pulling your body more flush against his. JJ was a good kisser, which lead you to indeed that he was infact— a whore. Well, maybe a former whore. Whatever, in that moment it didn’t matter— nothing mattered, just JJ and his tongue that was sliding against yours as the kiss heated up.
It feels like hours that your tongues are looping round eachother, snapped out the moment by the hungry blondes hands sliding down, your waist in his grip becomes suddenly your ass cheeks through your shorts, squeezing and pulling you against him practically lifting your entire body. It’s then you realise you having a working voice box, because you let out the most pathetic mewl you’ve ever heard yourself make. Even more pathetic than the noises you made only a few nights ago from your own hand.
He groans back almost as like a response, and with that — finally, he manoeuvres you to start walking backwards towards the very bed you fell apart on at the thought of what you were currently doing, or about to do. Your lips detach when the backs of your knees hit the bed, falling to sit down at the edge of it with a few bounces. He stares down at you for a couple of seconds, disorientated and sore-mouthed like even he can’t believe what’s happening— before he jumps into action. Jittery and clumsily like he always is.
“Should probably uh— if we’re gonna get on the bed I don’t wanna— poke you with somethin’” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, unloading them. His phone, his keys, earphones, cigarettes, wallet, other random knickknacks that would otherwise make you raise an eyebrow if you weren’t already so dazed by him. He’s about to return to you, before his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, as if he just remembered something — and he reaches into the back of his pants, pulling up the shirt that hung over his waistband to there retrieve his gun. He holds it up with a smile that said ‘How silly of me!’
You gape. “JJ, why do you have that?”
He shuffles some things around on your vanity, scrambling to make space for the piece. “Uh, had to bring it home today… lemme just… set that down there.” He places it next to your jewellery stand, the contrast in the items almost making you laugh in disbelief. “The old problem solver.” He mutters, giving it a fond pat before turning back to you, happy to carry on.
“What if my parents were to come home and see that?” You challenge with a pout, not too keen about him bringing a weapon into your house. He huffs out a smirk, leaning back down to where you’re sat, hands on your shoulders as he slowly lays you down.
“Think they’d be a little more concerned about the dirty pogue on top of their little girl, but y’know…” His words get lower and lazier as he draws in before locking his lips onto yours again, this time wasting no time with introducing his tongue.
You’re back in the zone, gun long forgotten within seconds— running your hands through his hair, over his strong arms, touching everywhere you’ve wanted to touch since you started working at the restaurant. Well, not everywhere.
He’s not holding back on being handsy either, body slotted between your legs after he lifts you further up the bed, grappling at your thighs, hips, and eventually tits. You can’t blame him, there’s desperation behind both of your actions — the fact you’d both wanted this for a while now slowly becoming clear. Your heart thumps hard at this realisation, suddenly less able to breathe and you pull back panting, breath trembling.
His eyes flicker over your face, watching your wet mouth as you ramble. “Wanted— mmph— wanted this for a while.”
He drags his lips over your cheek, pressing his hips against yours and you can feel him hardening. It does little to help you calm down. “Yeah, same… Is it… uh, is it weird I kinda didn’t want you to wash the shirt before givin’ it back to me?” He smiles, dropping another toothy peck to your mouth as his hands continue feeling you up.
Your eyes flutter closed once more when he softly grinds his bulge against your cunt, your knees tightening against his hips as you let out a silent moan, lips parted.
“H-had to. I slept in it.” You admit before you think, brain focused on other things. He laughs quietly against your jaw, smoothing his tongue over the now bitten skin.
“Aw, you did?” He creates some space between the two of you, his hand very slowly starting to trail down your body, past your stomach. “You got it so bad for me, huh?” He teases and you whine, openly and pathetically— spoiled and childish even. JJ didn’t seem the type to talk about his feelings easily, but teasing you for yours was outright mean.
“Shutup.” Comes with the whine, your breath catching pathetically as you feel the rumble of him slowly unzipping your shorts zipper at your crotch, lips detaching from your jaw for a second to look at what he’s doing, still chuckling.
“Thats rude.” He grins, quiet and lighthearted, elated when you start helping him pull your shorts down and kicking them carelessly off. If he wasn’t so desperate to get his hands on you, he would have taken more time to appreciate your cute little cotton panties with the bow on top. They were so you, exactly the sort he pictured you wearing, moreso pictured you soaking through the way you were now.
His hand slides over the length of your covered cunt, all but cupping you and pushing his fingers over the embarrassing amount of wetness on the fabric. “What else did you do in the shirt, hm? Talk me through it babe.”
He’s teasing you, not truly expecting much of an answer as he genuinely believed a sweet girl like you wouldn’t have the gall to do anything but sleep in his shirt. His lips trail down the centre column of your neck, and it bobs with a harsh swallow. Now, his interest is piqued.
“Can’t say!” You whimper, eyes screwed up, legs spreading wider as he gently thumbs at your clit through the fabric, just enough to stimulate you. You feel him remove his mouth from you, lifting his head into your direct eyeline with an amused raise of the brow.
“Well now sweetheart, you’re just gonna have to tell me.” His fingers tuck into the leg hole of your panties, like he wants to pull it aside but won’t. You realise he’s still watching you, waiting for an answer and that he’s not gonna go further until you speak. “Don’t be shy, tell Papa J what you—”
“Touched myself. I touched myself.” You release all in one breath. Now it’s his turn to ogle you, completely off guard. If he wasn’t hard as a rock before, he certainly was now. Probably leaking in his boxers too from how things felt down there. This was poor performance from him, he thought at the back of his mind. This fucked so early on? Shit, he knew he liked you but c’mon.
He peels your panties to the side and you squeak, the boy making no effort to touch you still— just letting the cool air of your room grace your glossy folds.
“And why would you do something like that, baby?” He noses at your cheek, trying to get you to open your eyes. You squeeze them harder before fluttering them open, so hot in the face and embarrassed when you find his gaze you think you might just die.
“Because I like you.” You whisper. It’s sweet, just like he thought you’d be when the time comes. He smiles, dimple deepening as his free hand cups your cheek.
“Because you like me.” He repeats in affirmation. It’s a little smug, he’ll admit — but having his dream girl beneath him had his ego on ten, what can he say. He slides two fingers through your wetness, dragging what he collected up your clit and circling it making you arch your back. “Gotta say, the feelings definitely mutual.”
He kisses you again, and this time it feels like something else. Like a confession, a proposal of some sort. It’s passionate, overwhelming in the best way, intimate — as his fingers start to move, stroking your clit and making your legs tremble in adrenaline.
As you writhe and moan beneath him, his lips swallowing as many as he can, unable to stay away— his other hand starts to slide up your work shirt. You wished you’d been wearing something sexier the first time the two of you got it on, but clearly it sort of did something for him.
If the speed at which he located and stimulated your clit wasn’t enough to convince you that the boy definitely had experience, it would be the way his hand slides around to your back, unhooking your bra singlehandedly. You can’t help but giggle through your whimpers and you’re not sure why, but he smiles too— murmuring “Party trick.” against your mouth. The smile is wiped from your face when his digit glides around your hole, as if lapping up all the wetness and then pushing in— all the way to the knuckle.
You moan and tense up a little, it’s been a while and your own fingers were definitely smaller than his. At your reaction. he pulls back only slightly— a look of concern poorly masked on his face.
“Are you… have you uh, been with a guy before? Or is this…”
“One guy, a while back. Not good at all.” You sigh and he nods patiently, lips twitching up when he starts to move his finger and your eyes flutter involuntarily. “Think I can work with that.”
He twists his wrist a little, working you with just one finger as he paws at your free’d tit, sucking on your tongue. You moan, the sound of your own wetness having its own presence in the room and he hums, pulling back to look down at the way you’re sucking his middle finger in.
“So pretty, you’ve been holdin’ out on me baby. Should be a crime to hide this cute little pussy, damn.” He whispers and you whine in preemptive embarrassment to the way you clench around him, making him chuckle again. “Oh yeah? She liked that, huh?”
“More, please—” You nearly choke on your own swallow as you lift your head, looking down at the way he’s got you spread out. Reaching downwards you gently tug at his wrist, not quite sure of the aim. “N—‘nother one.” You pant. Jeez, already totally fucked dumb and he hasn’t even made you cum. You were going to give JJ Maybank an even bigger head.
He doesn’t say anything, just sinks two fingers into your cunt and you make a noise he’s only heard in amateur porn videos from Twitter, dick usually nestled in his fist. He presses his lips together in a quiet ‘Mhm’ and your hands are back on him, desperate once more to consume him wholly.
Your nails rake through his hair as he finds his rhythm, tonguing at the cut on his lip with wide observant eyes that flicker between your face and your cunt. “Look at you go.” He responds to a moan— but JJ being JJ knows he can do better, which is why he stops thumbing at your nipple and pushes his hand into the bed instead, using the weight on his arm to start sliding down your body.
The first kiss against your stomach catches you off guard, and if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure you might wanna think about it more. He repositions his hand, stroking your inner thigh as he pushes them wider apart and shushes you, now face to face with your glistening pussy. His fingers slow their movements for a moment.
“She’s real pretty.” His fingers slide out so he can make messy doing of spreading your folds with his fingers, licking his already wet lips.
“Thank you.” You mewl happily, eyes watery as they gaze down at him like he hung the moon and stars for you.
“You’re so sweet.” He smiles genuinely and fairly innocently up at you as he strokes your thigh affectionately— before of course counteracting that by shooting out a thick bubbling glob of spit directly onto your clit, making your jaw drop. Lifting your thighs, he murmurs. “So sweet you get me hard. S’kinda unfair… at work.” Before he chases the spit with the flat of his tongue, bringing the muscle up to then wrap his lips around your clit and suck.
No noise can leave you for a few seconds, brows furrowed and jaw dropped in a silent moan until he forces the noise out of you by stuffing his fingers back inside your weeping hole.
“Oh— oh, JJ!” Your toes curl and in record time you feel your first orgasm approaching. It’s different from the ones you give yourself, it’s a ball of fire in your stomach and heat licking up your spine, eyes even watering at the exertion.
“Yeah say my name, c’mon.” He coaches you, moving his tongue faster like he’s competing with himself to make you cum.
“JJ, mmpph— feels— it feels—” You nearly sob.
“How’s it feel?”
“M’gonna—”
“Cum, babydoll. I got you.”
White noise. Like, almost the sounds of waves crashing. It doesn’t really feel like you’re a person anymore — but one thing is for certain. You have never cum like that in your life. You must of been on autopilot, moaning and whining pathetically, slurring out nonsense and maybe a twisted version of his name— but when you come back to Earth you’re near hyperventilating.
You slap at his shoulders with shaky hands because his lips are still latched onto your pulsing nub, fingers still squelching and working the release out of you. “Ok—okay, Jayj— please!” You let out a pathetic little cry and he eases up, pushing himself off you with a satisfied hum and grinning cheekily, letting you push out his fingers. You suck in shaky breaths, letting him soak in the moment by bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off.
“Better than anything I make, can tell you that.” He jokes. “Taste that shit, s’fuckin’ delicious.” He eases his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck off the remains with a humiliated mewl before removing them, leaning over you to kiss you. God, it’s embarrassing how much you soaked his face. Really, how it ended up on his forehead— you wasn’t sure. You were too focused on your own taste he was forcing into your mouth with his tongue, purposeful and cocky, making sure to roll his own wet muscle over your tastebuds so that you never forget who made you cum that hard.
It’s then, and only then he realises you’re freaking a little and lets you off for a break, cupping your cheek as he pulls back. “Are you good?” He chuckles and you inhale deeply, still trembling. You’re not sure what he does, because everything’s all hazy but he manhandles you a little until he’s cradling you in strong biceps, brow creased. “Did I go too hard? I may— may have gotten a lil’ carried away there. My apologies.” He holds up a hand that wasn’t cradling you.
“Was just— haven’t — it’s never felt like that before. Never felt that good.” You admit, which brings back his dimple and that sickeningly soft look in his eyes.
“What can I say, you deserve the best there is when it comes to receiving orgasms, and I,” He presses his mouth back on yours, kissing you between each word. “Am the best, there, is, at, giving them.” On the last kiss you lean into it, holding him there, as you’re ambushed by an unexpected feeling.
Some kind of surge in your stomach, like butterflies but bigger, your heart pounding. If you weren’t so dazed you’d be worried the L word was coming to doom you early. The feeling made you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him back ontop of you, jean clad bulge pressed back against your sensitive heat as you moan, high pitched and happy against him.
He pulls back to make some kind of joke, maybe a comment about your recovery time but you beat him to the chase, staring up into his dilated pupils with love hearts occupying your own. “Wanna make you feel good, Jayj.”
“You—how—”
You suckle on your bottom lip, hand bravely travelling down to cup the bulge that was calling to attention in his jeans. His breath catches in his throat, lips parting to let out a quiet and surprised groan.
“I’ve never—” Your face is hot again. “Never given a blow job before but—”
“Next time. Yeah? If you’ll let me I kinda just… wanna fuck you.” He smirks and hides it in your jawline, almost too shy in the moment to look you in the eye. Your brows furrow with a silent whimper at his words.
“Next time?” You mewl happily like you’re floating on air. At this he pulls back, a hopeful grin.
“If you’ll have me, that is. Figured I should take you out on a real date.”
You don’t have time to respond, he doesn’t let you— perhaps out of nerves. Instead, he’s working your panties that had been pushed to the side down your legs, followed by pulling your tshirt over your head. “Peekaboo, there she is.” He smiles quietly and you giggle, thinking back to the time at the locker where he pulled his shirt over your head. You toss your loose bra away from the bed, now laying bare beneath him.
He sits back on his knees, hands instinctually lifting to his head like he wanted to fix his hat, a habit you noticed of his that would occur when he’s overwhelmed or in awe. He settles on running his hands through the blonde tresses instead, big goofy smile on his face.
“Holy shit. I mean like — holy shit.” He breathes and you turn your head shyly, then reaching out to tug at his shirt.
“You too.” You gesture to his shirt and he offs it within a second, not wanting to look away from your naked body from a minute. Once his hands are free again, he’s sliding them up to your chest, greedily massaging your tits in both hands.
“Fuck, you are so fine. I mean like I think I nearly came in my pants.” He admits quietly and you tug at his belt, having to remind him of what you were actually doing.
“C’mon, Jayj— want you to fuck me!” You whine, all doe eyes and pouts, not even registering how pathetic and desperate the sentiment was — only making his cock throb harder. He buckles slightly, like it physically pains him and he nods quickly, fumbling with his belt until he could pull his jeans down just enough to release himself.
It’s long, pink and pretty like you expected — pearly precum gathering at his tip. He grasps it infront of you, eyes flickering between yours and his dick, suddenly looking hesitant. “So uh, this is what m’ working with.” He announces awkwardly, overthinking everything — but it doesn’t matter because you’re wrapping a delicate hand round it, guiding him to your entrance.
“Woah there missy, okay uh— hold your horses. This job don’t pay either of us enough for you to get knocked up.” He side rolls off the bed hobbling over to the dresser for his wallet, retrieving a condom and returning. You would have laughed, but you get all embarrassed and teary eyed about how overly eager you’d been.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’.” You pout and his eyes flutter up to yours, kneeling between your legs.
“Hey? You’re good.” He tears the packet open with his teeth and you clench around nothing. “You’re good.” He repeats, stroking your thigh as he eases the rubber onto his cock. “Still up for it, babe?”
You bite your lip with a sniffly giggle, nodding and he grins himself, laying on top of you to press a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He pulls away, and he lines himself up before slowly easing himself in.
Your legs around his waist hug him tighter and your toes curl at the stretch, wincing. “You got it.” He encourages, voice breathier like it teetered on a moan which only made you flutter around him.
“S’big, JJ.” You whimper and he huffs against your neck.
“I— thanks.”
Once he’s in, he’s in — and you can see how his fingers and tongue were only just the appetiser. He fucks like it’s the last time, like his life depends on it— rolling his hips, his hands somehow in ten places at once, his tongue — oh his tongue, it’s in your mouth, then down your neck, then looping around your nipple making you clench and whine and cry.
He starts to speed up, unable to control himself as his hands slide under your lower back to hold you, thumbing at your waist. “Shit, shit, shit.” He grits his teeth, having to contain himself there and then from cumming when he sees the way your tits bounce beneath him. “Takin’ that shit so good, huh? Jesus baby.” He wrinkles his nose in exertion, panting.
“S’just so good, JJ— mmph!”
“Yeah? Y’gonna think of this everytime I see you, shit, everytime I see you in the kitchen? Givin’ me those big sexy fuck me eyes everytime I hand you a plate? Shit baby, pretty little waitress, huh. N’ you’re all mine now. So freakin’ lucky.” Hes rambling, nonsensical— already pussy drunk.
You’re in ecstasy. Not only from how he felt, but from how you were making him feel. It occurred to you that no one seems to talk about the validation you receive from finally getting to fuck your crush, watching them come apart over you. You wanted more, wanted to impress him.
In a trance, you push at his stomach, shuffling upwards so he reluctantly pulls out, concern on his clammy face. You fumble, rolling onto your front, sticking your ass in the air, looking over your shoulder.
“Please.” You plead, and you’re not sure what for— but it works, the blonde puffing out his cheeks with a dramatic exhale, lining himself behind you and pushing in. “Gonna be the death of me, babydoll.”
You may have overestimated your abilities, crying pathetically when he bottoms out, his cock feeling ten times it’s size from this angle.
“Arch that back baby, there you go, just like that.” He whispers, pressing down on your lower back making you sob. You fuck back against him, pressing your cheek to your pillow, fingers curling into it for security. “Good girl, that’s right.” He drops a hand beneath you, finding your clit once more and as a surprise ambush, you cum— suddenly and embarrassingly, gushing around his cock leaving a ring of cream at his base.
He doesn’t stop this time, giving you a moment to catch your breath as you whine and mewl like a distressed kitten. No, if anything — he goes harder, his own release on the precipice. The bed is creaking now, wooden headboard smacking the wall as he leans his weight on the back of your arms, pelvis slapping against your ass. Little squeaks are punched out of you with each thrust, and when you think he’s reached a crescendo— he slows.
“Fuck, fuck turn around baby. Need to see that pretty face to cum, c’mon.” He pants in one breath, fighting you back onto your back and sliding back in with ease this time, pushing one knee up to your chest and rolling his hips, eyes squeezed shut.
He tries to keep them open, eyes everywhere— your tits, your big wet eyes, your lips. Like he can’t help himself, he sloppily cups your cheek, a thumb brushing your bottom lip. Wanting to help him along in your post orgasm brain-fog, your tongue peeks out, trying to catch the finger as he bounces you on his cock. Once you’ve got it, you wrap your lips around it, sucking with devotion and love hearts in your eyes.
“Oh my— god” He whimpers, finally dropping his cheek to your chest as he ruts into you, spilling his seed. You moan at the feeling, scratching at his back and fluttering around him. The butterflies return.
After ten minutes, you’re laying on his thick bicep— his blunt fingernails scratching your scalp at the bottom of your skull. The dryer beeps distantly, signifying that it’s completed its cycle.
Maybank is staring at you, like he’s trying to memorise your face, like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. An amused smile breaks out onto your face, trying to hide it in his arm as you press a kiss there. At this, a grin spreads on his own face, questioning.
“You know… I do actually have an electric toothbrush.”
“I freaking knew it.”
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cartierre · 3 months
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AGORA HILLS | ln4
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!russell!reader
side note: i'm depressed and the f1 season is starting soon again so here we go. side note pt2: this is kinda short and the ending feels rushed but oh well
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y/n_russell permanent shenanigans
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user1 oh that's not-
user2 oh she didn't- yes she did
user3 y/n getting a lando norris tramp stamp was not on my 2023 bingo card ⤷ user4 i don't think it was ever on anyone's bingo card
landonorris mine ⤷ y/n_russell yours 🤞
user5 i can't decide if it's cringe or a major slay
georgerussell63 i don't know if i should strangle you or norris ⤷ y/n_russell maybe neither of us?
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tagged: yourfriend, yourotherfriend, landonorris
y/n_russell pizza boy always knows how to capture my heart
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user6 lando and y/n being in their hot couple era was not on my 2024 bingo card ⤷ user7 no couple does it like y/n and lando
user8 i'm a bit concerned about their recent behaviour, ngl
landonorris i'm a professional pizza boy off season ⤷ y/n_russell earning some extra money to spoil your girl? ⤷ user9 so you admit you use lando for his money? ⤷ y/n_russell sorry your partner apparently doesn't know how to treat you. i'd be bitter as well if i were you
user10 y/n being totally unhinged is my favourite type of media ⤷ user11 george being the emotionally older sibling and y/n being the unbothered younger sibling makes so much sense
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y/n_russell to clear some things up: obviously george isn't always happy with how lando and i present our relationship (online or not) but that doesn't mean he hates lando?! i'm his little sister, it's natural he doesn't always enjoy what lando and i do. nonetheless, lando and george have been friends for ages! this was literally them on our shared holiday in '23! carmen and i were third-wheeling the whole time lol. george can sometimes be a little cold but that's just how he processes things, it doesn't mean he's not supportive of my relationship with lando. please respect that.
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y/n_russell accurate representation of how i felt after watching george and lando's "drama" on drive to survive. now i understand why y'all blew this whole situation up.
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user12 now she knows how we all felt watching that episode
user13 me when i watch dts in general
user14 me when i hear the dutch national anthem yet again
user15 me when i think of charles not winning wdc because ferrari literally sucks
landonorris me when i realise y/n won't attend every race ⤷ y/n_russell um excuse me i'm a working gyal
user16 me when life
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y/n_russell maybe i should become lando's and george's pr manager when it means getting flowers from their teams
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user17 no cuz that is so cute that they sent her flowers cuz she solved the whole lando-george drama
user18 that's why they both are my favourite teams
mclaren the contract is ready to be signed! ⤷ mercedesamgf1 not if she choses us first! after all, blood is thicker than water
user19 not mclaren and mercedes fighting over y/n
user20 i wonder which flowers are from who
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keeplcving · 4 months
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art deco.
(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)
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summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.
cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!
Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.
You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.
Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.
You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.
You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.
“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.
I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.
“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”
“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.
“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.
“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.
“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.
“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.
Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.
“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.
You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”
The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.
“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.
“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.
“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.
“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”
It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.
“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.
You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.
“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?
“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”
“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.
“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.
“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”
You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.
“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.
Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.
He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”
You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.
“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.
“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.
Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.
“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.
“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”
Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.
“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.
The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”
He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.
“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.
“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.
“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.
“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.
“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.
“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.
“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.
“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.
“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.
“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.
He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.
He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.
“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.
He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.
“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.
He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.
As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.
Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.
You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.
“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.
“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.
He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.
You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.
“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.
“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.
“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.
“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.
“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.
“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.
“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”
You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.
“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.
“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.
“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”
“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.
©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :)
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sapphicmsmarvel · 1 month
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Azriel: baby blanket
Azriel had never had a baby blanket. 
When you found this out, it made you so sad you started crying (you were on your period which didn’t help the emotions). 
You were talking with Feyre and Cassian. Feyre mentioned how she found Rhysands baby blanket in their closet and couldn’t get over how cute it was. 
“It has bats! It was so cute.” 
“Oh yeah, Rhys’ mom made me one with swords on it.” Cassian sipped his beer. 
“And Az?” You asked. 
“Az what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 
“What was on Az’s?” You asked, tilting your head. 
“Huh.” Cassian thought. “I don't think he ever got one.” 
“What? Why?” Your heart was shattering for your husband and mate. 
“When he joined the family, he was in his preteens. A little old for a baby blanket. I joined when I was a bit younger so I think that’s why I got one.” He titled his head as he thought. “He might’ve had one when he was with his blood relatives, but I doubt they let him have any comfort.” He grimaced. 
You teared up. “Rhys’ mom never made one for him?”
“No, just because he was a bit older.” Cassian shrugged. 
You frowned, “I wouldn’t think of it either if I were her I just…” Your lip wobbled. “He deserves it.”
“Aw shit.” Cassian got up and went to your other side. “I forgot you were on your cycle.” 
“Shut up.” You cried, swatting his arm. Which he wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest. 
“He’s okay, sweetheart. He’s a big boy.” He kissed your temple. 
“Everybody deserves a baby blanket. I still have mine.” You bit your lip and sniffed. “I need to make Az one. He deserves it!” 
Feyre touched your shoulder. “I think Rhys still has fabric his mother owned.”
“Can you ask? I wanna make it and include the woman that took him in.” You frowned, “and find some way to include his mother.” 
“Of course.” Feyre said. She also kissed your temple. 
Feyre later asked Rhys, who absolutely let you have some fabric. That way the blanket was from both you and Rhys’ mom. You reached out to Azriel’s mother, who helped you learn to sew. You spent hours with her. You loved doing this so you could give Azriel something meaningful, then it was better since his mother helped you learn. 
You did a few practice runs with random squares of fabric that weren't the special kind. Just to make sure you didn’t fuck up the actual project. 
You picked out a soft fabric he loves because it doesn’t cause sensory issues. You chose if in his siphon blue with stars on it. 
When he came home after you had finished it, he was concerned because you looked like you were up to something. 
It didn’t help that you had made his favorite foods plus dessert (since you wouldn’t let him eat you for dessert with your cycle going on, which he doesn’t care either way for the record). 
Then after dinner, you made him sit on the couch and close his eyes for a surprise. “And I forbid your shadows being sent out! So don't send them!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to grab the surprise.
“Yes, love.” As if they’d listen to him over you in this case. Plus, he’s never seen you so excited. So no, he wasn’t going to ruin it.  
He heard your giggling as you walked down the steps and couldn’t help his own tiny chuckle. He heard the crinkling of a bag as well. 
“Okay, open your eyes baby.” You said. He opened his eyes to see his love smiling wide and her eyes twinkling. 
She handed it to him, he could feel that it was hefty. He took the tissue paper out and threw it at you, which you giggled at as it hit you. 
Then he saw the most beautiful blanket there. He pulled it out. It was a deep, rich navy blue. Sparkling with the night sky. 
“Did you make this?” He whispered, his heart was already filled because his love gave him something. 
You nodded and that caused his heart to overflow. 
“I love it but what’d I do to deserve it?”
“Just be you.” You said. Then he saw the tears start in your eyes. “Gods, this stupid cycle. The amount of times I cried making it.” You wiped your face. 
“Cassian told me you’d never had a baby blanket. And everybody deserves that bit of comfort. I’m sorry if this seems silly I just-“ Your lip wobbled. “I wanted you to have it.” 
“Oh baby.” Azriel cooed. Which was weird, because he was one of the most feared warriors cooing over his period-ridden wife. “C’mere.” He set the blanket down, and pulled you into his lap. Your thick thighs cradling his muscular ones. 
You fit perfectly in his lap. He then grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around you both. For a baby blanket, it was quite large. You worked so hard. He loved it so fucking much. 
“I’m sorry this is your gift and I can’t stop crying.” You let out a wet laugh. “Gods, the amount of times your mother teased me for crying.” You sniffed. 
“My mother?” He froze. 
“I went and visited her a lot these past few months. She taught me how to sew. We had lots of tea and talked about you.” You teased. “I loved seeing her so much.” You whispered. 
His heart was bursting. You spent time with his mother, his mother who you loved to see.
“Baby, this is beautiful. You’re so talented.” He kissed your forehead. “I can’t believe you made me a baby blanket. Thank you.”
He never even thought that he’d want one. Now, the only way anybody would get it out of his hands would be if he were dead. 
“Where did you find this fabric?” He asked. It was beautiful. As if the night sky itself was woven into it. And so soft on his skin. 
“Rhys’ mother.” You sniffed again. 
He snapped his head to you, confused. You smiled. “I asked Rhys if there was any fabric left from her. Then I actually embroidered your mothers signature in the corner, with her guidance. So,” You shrugged. “It’s from all three of us.” 
“The three most important women in my life.” He murmured. 
He brought you into a kiss that told a thousand words. “Thank you.” His voice broke off. “I can’t even begin to think of how to repay this.”
“That’s the thing Az. You don't have to. I’m your wife, I am honored to give you something so special.” You whispered, clutching his face. 
“You didn’t just give it. You made it. You make me so happy, my love.” He brought you in for another kiss. 
After that night, you kept catching him snuggling the blanket. He wouldn’t travel with it, it was his prized possession. It never left your house. All your family knew about it was that you made him a blanket. 
Then, for away missions. You made him a travel size one. 
Then for his birthday. A tinier matching one. Only with your signature in the corner opposite his mothers. 
And, an embroidered baby footprint.
768 notes · View notes
httpiastri · 5 months
Text
this christmas – op81
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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."
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