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#I'm not sure exactly how to tag this but I hope the warning at the beginning helps
coyoteclan · 3 months
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Big TW for pet loss
Hey, clangen tumblr and those who just enjoy the silly cats on this blog. I know it's been a little bit of time since my last update, but unfortunately during the past few months, I have been caring for my closest friend, Comet.
She's been my best friend for 15 whole years, and on February 9th of 2024, I'm sad to say that she has passed. I won't lie when I say that this is one of the hardest posts I've ever made, but I want to continue this blog in her honor. Normally, I have a terrible habit of just letting projects like this slip by me and gather dust; however Comet was meant to play an integral part within the blog to immortalize her, and I refuse to let something meant just for her to go to waste.
I want to thank you all first of all for being such an amazing community. I've genuinely had so much joy come of this blog, and it pains me that I let it go stagnant for as long as I have. There are 568 of you now, which is so extremely wild to me; but I hope that from now on, you can all love Comet as much as I did, even if as a memory.
I hope to return to posting content both here and on my main, @mxssacre , but for now I still need time to grieve and come to terms with the loss of someone that was so incredibly intertwined with everything I've done since I was 9 years old.
Thank you for everything Comet, my heart, my soul, my love.
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More of my favorite photos of her beneath the cut.
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It's hard to choose favorites out of the thousands of photos I've taken of her over the years, but I hope these do her justice to show what an amazing being she was. I hope you're hunting your toy mice in the stars, Comet.
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lollixp0p · 3 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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2K notes · View notes
httpiastri · 4 months
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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."
1K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 7 months
Note
Bucky Barnes and you get stuck in elevator for one hour. What are you two doing? 🖤 honest answers only even if they are filthy 🔥
stuck with you
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
words: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ only. smut. angst. all the feelings. unprotected sex. hint of a breeding kink. some spanking. oh some very incorrect description of an anxiety attack and how to help someone through it. i know, i know, but it's for the story lmao. uhm if i'm missing something that should be tagged pls lmk!
notes: i couldn't not write something for this and it was gonna be so smutty and then i started and then i... i dont know what happened lol. but thank you for sending this in, i know it's not a direct answer but i hope you like it <3 thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated!
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"What exactly do you think slamming all the buttons will do?" he asked as he leaned against the wall of the elevator, nothing short of casual amusement lacing his voice as he watched you.
You ignored him, trying the emergency call button for the fifth time in the minute that had passed since the elevator stopped moving.
You didn't realize the change in your breathing until Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm. You flinched at his touch, having been too lost in your growing panic to notice he'd gotten closer.
"What?" you asked through a heavy, annoyed breath.
"You need to breathe, sweetheart," he instructed gently, tugging you to face him fully, pulling you away from the buttons as he did.
"I'm breathing," you snapped at him, forcing yourself to take a breath as you worked to steel your nerves. It was all in vain, though. You couldn't fight off the paranoid thoughts as they were coming through your mind too fast to even try and rationalize. "I just," you said shakily, "I ca- I can't,"
You suddenly found yourself nearly bowing over as you tried to catch a breath. Bucky helped you to sit while he kept his hold on you, his intent eyes set on you as your own squeezed shut, your hands mindlessly gripping his forearms as you tried to ground yourself.
"Look at me, sweetheart," he ordered firmly, though he waited patiently for you to follow his instructions.
You felt like you couldn't catch your breath, each one you took was too shallow and you couldn't manage to breathe in any deeper.
"Just hold your breath for a second, doll,"
You were still struggling, and the last thought on your mind was to stop breathing altogether, you were sure you'd pass out if you did. Your gasping was only growing worse as Bucky contemplated his options.
He didn't think long before he gently took your face in his hands and forced you to look at him, your eyes glassy and lips parted, desperate for air. had his heart clenching. He didn't want to see you like that, not with that fear in your eyes. He leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours, more fervently than he even meant to.
You were still against him for a moment, not moving as he pulled you closer to him. It took you a second to register what was happening. All at once, though, your mind caught up, your heart pounding in your chest only growing wilder as you let your eyes close, crawling into Bucky's lap as he held you gently, his lips still against yours. You were all together intoxicated by him, his soft but secure touch, the taste of mint and coffee on his lips, the scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo from your shared shower earlier, it wrapped around you as your previous thoughts of peril faded into the background.
All that you could think of was him, here and now. And you in his solid lap, his thick arms wrapped around you, his hands holding your face so delicately. Your lips began to work with his as you breathed him in and let him taste you in kind.
You soon lost yourself to him completely; and then, after another long minute, you realized you once again couldn't breathe.
You broke the kiss, hungry for air just slightly more than you were for him. You let your face fall as your noses brushed and you finally were able to catch your breath.
"Huh," you huffed, suddenly remembering yourself. You peeked up at him through your lashes meekly before you murmured a soft thank you.
He smirked halfheartedly, but a little bit of sadness he couldn't hide was apparent on his face as you then moved to get off of him, not that you noticed. Your thoughts were once again getting caught in a spiral.
As you tried to move off his lap, you were stopped. Bucky held you down, his large hands gently squeezing into your soft waist, keeping you exactly where you were.
"I get you're still mad at me, sweetheart, but I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you spiral again," he said as he pulled you into him.
You slumped into his chest, letting your heaviness rest on him as you nuzzled your face into his neck.
"I'm not mad at you," you mumbled into his skin.
"Could've fooled me," he breathed a humorless laugh.
You sighed, pulling away from him slightly.
"I'm not mad. I'm just-" you cut yourself off before forcing your tongue to continue, "I'm scared."
Your eyes were glued to his chest as you spoke but the moment the admission slipped past your lips, Bucky was tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes.
"Sweetheart," he began.
"Not of you. Of me. I just... I'm not, I'm not used to this. To being loved, the way you love me. And I don't wanna lose that," you whispered as tears pricked your eyes. "I don't want you to end up feeling stuck with me. Because I'm a lot, Bucky. And I'm not easy to live with. I'm particular and I need alone time a lot of the time... and ... You just have no idea what you're inviting into your life."
"You," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, his touch grazing your cheek as he wiped a tear from your skin. "I'm inviting you. I love you. I want you. All of it with you. Every last bit, doll."
You could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke and it only made you all the more worried.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, sweetheart. If you don't want to move in with me, you don't have to. If you need time, I'll wait. However long I have to," he said as his hands began to run up and down your back soothingly.
"I want to, Bucky. I do. I just don't want you to regret this."
"When are you gonna see it," he breathed as he squeezed you closer, looking up at you as he leaned back against the wall behind him.
"See what?"
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I could never regret you."
"You say that-"
"Ever."
Your eyes softened at his insistence, and deep down, you knew he meant it.
Your avoidance of an answer to his question this morning had been you trying to protect not only yourself, but him from disappointment, though it was becoming clearer and clearer that it was only hurting you both.
You were scared, but you also wanted this just as badly as he did. God, how long you'd dreamed about the day you'd wake up in Bucky's bed and not have to rush to your own apartment to get ready for work. How nice it'd be to get home from a miserable day and have him there to make things better without having to endure the twenty minute commute from his place to yours. To share a place together, your and his...
You were near burrowing yourself in his embrace, his hands still soothing up and down your back as he held you close, when you reached to grab one of his hands in yours.
You pulled away from him enough to look him in the eye.
"If you're sure,"
"I'm sure,"
"And if you ever wanna go back on it, or change your mind, I -"
"I wouldn't,"
"But if you do-"
"I won't."
There was a moment, a silent conversation between you two as you look into each other's eyes. You pressed your forehead to his, kissing him delicately before you pulled back again.
You nodded, "I'd love to move in with you, Bucky," you said with a small smile playing on your lips. Your heart soared as you watched the dopey smile that stretched onto Bucky's face before he crushed you against him. "That's all I needed to hear," he said in between kissing you everywhere he could in the position you were in. You laughed as you wiggled to sit up higher on his lap, looking down at him.
You reached a hand to brush through his hair, and as you did the elevator jolted. You caught yourself with a hand against the wall as Bucky tightened his arms around you instinctively.
You felt his warm breath against the swell of your breasts before you looked down with a raised brow. His face was right against your chest, and his eyes were now locked on your breasts as they hung in front of him, his hands grabbing at your ass while his eyes grew darker, filled with even more excitement.
"Wouldn't mind if that happened again," he said huskily.
"Odds are in your favor, you know this complex is the fucking worst," you huffed.
"All the more reason for you to move in with me," he smirked. "But ya know one good thing about these old buildings?"
"Hm?"
"They don't have cameras in the elevators," he said, smacking your ass and causing you to gasp and jolt from the strike.
He was mesmerized by the sight as he repeated his actions over and over again until you were whining and pressing your chest into his face.
"Buck," you mewled pathetically, the tingling between your thighs growing more unbearably with every slap against your ass. Each hit only getting you more wet for him.
You were seconds away from ripping your tank top off yourself but Bucky quickly pulled it off and over your head for you before his lips descended upon your breasts.
You let your head drop back in time with your hips pressing to sit fully in his lap, a moan escaping you when you felt his hard length against you. Your hands were in his hair as his hands squeezed your ample flesh, his lips fervent against your skin still.
You couldn't help yourself as you began tilting your hips over his, back and forth, your movements more urgent the more you felt him twitch beneath you.
Your bra had been tossed to the side minutes ago but you were still in your leggings while Bucky was still fully clothed.
When you tilted your hips just right, you felt his cock rub against your clothed clit and you nearly lost it completely; shoving yourself off of him to finally rid yourself of the clothing that kept you from what you really wanted. Bucky followed your lead without having to be told and got undressed in the blink of an eye. You saw his throbbing length standing erect for you and nearly salivated at the sight, your mouth parted in awe at his beauty. You swear, you'd never get over it. Every little thing about him, from his scars to his own stretch marks, every bit of his was beautiful. And you smiled as you saw him admiring you the very same way, that wonderstruck look in his eyes you'd never get used to. Your patience was wearing down the longer you took, though, and quickly, you climbed back down into his lap before lining his cock up to your slick entrance.
You slowly sank down on him, moans from both of you filling the elevator at the sensation.
"Oh, fuck, doll," he moaned while groping your hips. You started moving up and down his length, slowly as you enjoyed the stretch of him inside of you, wanting to feel each and every inch of his thick cock as it filled you up.
"Mmm," you hummed a mindless moan, throwing your head back in pleasure as Bucky took a pert nipple into his mouth, squeezing and kneading your breast in his big hand. "Feels good, Buck," you breathed, slamming your hips down on his cock, earning a deep throated growl from him.
Suddenly his hands were back on your wide set hips, his fingers digging into the plushy flesh there as he began fucking up into you himself. You were helpless as you keened at the feeling, gripping his shoulders to keep yourself upright. "Oh god, Bucky, please," you whined, pushing your hips back down to meet his thrusts, "please, please, please,"
"You close, sweetheart?" he panted. "I can feel you gripping my cock, baby, fuck," his eyes squeezed tight as he nearly snarled the curse of pleasure.
"Gonna fuckin' fill you up and then you're really gonna be stuck with me,"
"Bucky," you gasped, though it came out with a moan.
"That's it, sweetheart, take my fucking cock, just like that, doll. Just like that," he punctuated each word with another snap of his hips into yours, rolling into you and rubbing your clit deliciously with his every move.
You were both panting, a sheen of sweat on both of you as he fucked you perfectly, the only other sounds to be heard were of your twin moans and the slapping sounds of skin on skin, the salacious squelching of his dick drilling into you over and over.
His thumb found your clit and drew tight circles over the sensitive bud as he felt your walls tightening around him, wanting to keep him inside of you. It was almost blinding, the way you were hit with your orgasm. Your muscles tightened as Bucky continued to fuck you through the high, unintelligible moans and whimpers of his name and cries intermingled as the waves of pleasure crashed over you over and over again.
You found yourself on your back in the blink of an eye as Bucky continued to pummel into your tight heat, deep strokes along your velvety walls as he chased his own high, holding himself above you as he did.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, baby, I-" his words turned into a deep groan as his pace faltered, soon morphing into heady moans when you felt his warm spurts filling you up as he came inside of you.
His thrusts slowed as did your breathing until he slowly pulled out of you, laying himself down next to you and pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead as you melted into his embrace.
"I mean it, ya know. You're the one who's gonna be stuck with me, sweetheart. I'm not goin' anywhere," he promised with a simper. "Not without you."
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fuxuannie · 1 year
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Hi sage!! I hope you're doing well<33 do you mind doing jealousy headcanons for dan heng, jing yuan and any other characters you chose?? Thank you 🤍🤍 you're keeping the hsr x reader tag alive 😭
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* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4, again) x gender neutral reader
* prompt : jealousy bites like you like a poisonous snake, the bite hurts, but its the venom that gets you.
* authors note : hi anon !!! (๑´ㅂ`๑) thank you for requesting, you're so sweet for the last msg omg tysm <3 i hope u enjoy !
* brief warning : blade kills a man, very blade of him. (his is also more of a joke im sorry blade lovers) ALSO THIS PROGRESSIVELY GETS SHORTER EACH CHARACTER, I JUST REALLY LIKE DAN HENG IM SORRY LMAO.
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DAN HENG can't hide the way his eye twitches, how tightly he grips onto his spear or the way he'd mutter things under his breath. He despises it when he's jealous, but he hates it more when he sees the reason for doing so.
He knows he's.. not exactly like all your previous partners, it stemmed an insecurity in him. He wasn't all too funny, and knew he couldn't make you laugh with a corny joke.
So the way Sampo keeps making you laugh, making you smile, it was sparking a jealous flame in his heart. But more than anything, it saddened him that he couldn't make you laugh like that.
God, your smile was so pretty.
After a while, he interlocks his fingers with yours and mutters a small 'Can we go?' to you. You immediately notice his saddened tone, and thank Sampo for his time before walking home with your boyfriend.
"Dan Heng?" You say softly, noticing his rather saddened mood. He lets out a small hum to acknowledge your call for him, and you sigh. "Are you upset?"
He nods his head.
"Is it.. because of Sampo?"
He hesitates, but that alone gives you an answer.
Dan Heng takes a deep breath, before looking at you, his eyes filled with honesty. "I was.. jealous. I know I can't make you laugh the way he does, and it frustrates me. I want to be a man who makes you smile everyday but-"
Amidst his rant, he sees how your gaze softened at his words. This entire time, he was insecure? He hid it well, so well, at the very least from you. "I'm sorry, this is stupid-"
"N-no! It's not, I should be apologizing if anything! I failed to realize these things.. I'm sorry, my love. Sampo.. he makes me laugh, but you make my heart flutter. You make me feel things no one else can, okay? I'm yours, as you are mine."
He smiles at you, he's just happy he communicated his feelings, and you understood. "I'll be sure to try and tell you how I feel next time, okay? As long as you promise you'll stop hanging out with him. I was honestly afraid I was gonna have to get rid of him."
You blinked a few times, but he sighs. "I'm kiddinngg.."
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JING YUAN knows he's far too good of a man, therefore doesn't get jealous.
He's yet to be disproven in the first part, but his golden eyes are filled with annoyance as the stares of a certain enemy of his lingers far too long on you.
You were filling in for Yanqing, he was absent for the day (something about falling into an ice cold river and getting sick or something...) and so someone needed to be there as the General would be meeting Blade.
And Jing Yuan couldn't ignore how Blade's eyes never left your form while he spoke, hanging your head down low and so you wouldn't notice. That made him greatly annoyed, almost unable to focus, but he had a mission at hand. And so he forced his jealousy to subside.
Needless to say, the small marks on your neck was embarassing to have seen in public. (And the small bird constantly pecking at Blade's hair was definitely also not Jing Yuans doing.)
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GEPARD is so understanding, he evaluates every situation with logical thinking, as expected as a leader.
So it wasn't hard to figure out the intentions of the 'friend' that was speaking to you, how their voice was almost sweeter, and the way they clinged onto your arm was signalling red flags.
Gepard wouldn't have minded this, it could've easily been friendly gestures, but Serval is one of your closest friends and you were within a friendgroup. And she knows that person has a crush on you, and it was painfully obvious.
So naturally, he swiftly and surpisingly gently pulls you from the waist out of their grasp especially with how firm his grip around you was. He gives them a not so friendly glare, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. "My partner." He states, pulling you close as you're left to be stunned with the sudden posessiveness of your partner. "Mine."
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Blade simply stares down at the person even attempting to approach you with clearly bad intentions. And if they dare to try to push their luck, Blade comes home with blood on his hands.
"What did you do??" You'd ask, you already knew the answer after already learning what Blade was truly like. "What was necessary." He replied, a kiss on your cheek as he walks in through the door to wash his hands.
6K notes · View notes
awearywritersworld · 6 months
Text
there can be no covenants between men and lions
ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist
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you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.
his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.
"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.
despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.
"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.
"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.
his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."
you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."
the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.
he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.
his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.
"oh."
the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.
what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.
he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.
"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."
he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."
mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"
he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."
when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"
you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.
"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."
as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"
"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."
"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.
you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.
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back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.
he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—
he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.
your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.
he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.
you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.
sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.
then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.
lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.
it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.
but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.
he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.
his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?
eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"
"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"
you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.
finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?
he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.
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sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.
yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.
you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.
sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.
he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.
you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.
yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.
this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.
tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.
but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.
he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?
and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?
when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.
you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.
"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."
he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.
he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.
"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.
you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.
"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.
"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.
"enough."
he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.
so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.
but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.
"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.
an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?
he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"
that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.
the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.
that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.
it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.
sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.
"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.
how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.
you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.
"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.
"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."
it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."
he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.
"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."
your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.
"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."
his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.
"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.
"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."
"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.
you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."
"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."
you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."
his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.
it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.
it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.
ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.
as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.
"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.
"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.
his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."
he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"
he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"
"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."
you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."
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love-belle · 6 months
Text
i'm glad whenever i can share her laughter !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they finally get their picture perfect ending that everyone was hoping for.
or
for when you have everything you ever wished for. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - this series is now officially done!!!! im soooo happy about how this turned out and i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did <33 thank u sm for reading, i love you <33
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilymhe and 2,751,876 others
yourusername julianne marie leclerc-y/l/n 🤍
tagged charles_leclerc
15,628 comments
username OMG SHE'S HEREEEE
username GOING CRAZY RN WDYM THE BABY IS HERE
username JULIANNE 😭 MARIE 😭 LECLERC-Y/L/N 😭
lewishamilton missing baby j ❤️
-> yourusername she misses her uncle lew and brother roscoe ❤️
username SO ADORABLE ARE U KIDDING ME
lilymhe i'm kidnapping her idc
-> alex_albon yes please i miss her already
-> yourusername no bc im pretty sure she loves u both more than her actual PARENTS
landonorris can i come over
-> yourusername u JUST left
-> landonorris CAN I COME OVER
-> yourusername ok
charles_leclerc mon ange 😘 ( my angel )
-> yourusername ❤️
charles_leclerc thank you for everything mon amour ( my love )
-> yourusername thank YOU for everything i love u sooooosososo bad
username i feel like such a proud parent it's INSANE
username IM CRYING OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,699,896 others
charles_leclerc it should be noted that she asked for her "mamamamama" a few thousand times and now i'm taking her with me to where ever
tagged yourusername
14,885 comments
username MAMAMAMAMA PLEASE
username she's a mama's girl fr
username JULIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
danielricciardo baby julie owns my heart
-> heidiberger_ mine too 🤍
-> charles_leclerc where was this heart owning when she was screaming her head off in the middle of the night and you both suddenly had a "fever"
-> username PLEASE HE PULLED OUT THE RECEIPTS
-> username he's really done with everyone
maxverstappen1 p wants to meet her best friend. again. please.
-> charles_leclerc can we exchange?
-> maxverstappen1 yes
-> kellypiquet no (you are more than welcome to leave baby j with us anytime ☺️)
-> yourusername no (I MISS P PLEASE COME OVER)
-> charles_leclerc ONE CHILD IS ENOUGH
-> maxverstappen1 exactly what he said
username i love watching charles realise that having a baby is SO much more than js buying cute clothes and playing with toys
-> yourusername i know he's so shocked
yourusername MY BABY 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️
-> charles_leclerc she's coming with me
yourusername bring her back asap i wanna hug her
-> charles_leclerc oh so suddenly i'm not enough?
yourusername u didn't hear this from me but she couldn't sleep without her red ferrari plushie last week when u were in maranello
-> charles_leclerc so now you're making me cry. great.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their instagram stories
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,657,246 others
charles_leclerc i'm glad whenever i can share her laughter
tagged yourusername
15,172 comments
username WHY IS SHE GROWING UP SO FAST
username oh please no im not ready to see baby j grow up
leclerc_pascale bébé ❤️❤️❤️ ( baby )
-> charles_leclerc she misses her grand-mère❤️ ( grandmother )
carlossainz55 please stop blasting slipping through my fingers. it's 3am.
-> charles_leclerc she pulled herself up today YOU DON'T GET IT
-> username oh this man's gonna be in shambles when she starts walking
landonorris time needs to stay still, thank you.
-> charles_leclerc exactly 💯
yourusername babe she's literally 10 months old
-> charles_leclerc soon she'll be 10 years old and going to school and not wanting to hang out with me 🙁
yourusername STOP CRYING I CAN HEAR YOU FROM NEXT DOOR
-> charles_leclerc I'M NOT IT'S LANDO
-> landonorris I MISS BABY J
yourusername she misses her papa, come back
-> charles_leclerc yes ❤️❤️❤️ let me just console lando and we'll join you
username lando is so me
3K notes · View notes
wonderlandwalker · 4 months
Text
Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.
Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence
Word Count: 3.4k
A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos
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This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.
Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.
But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.
The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.
“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.
“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.
He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.
“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.
"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.
"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.
He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.
“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”
And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.
He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.
Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.
It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after
Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.
“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.
“Go back where?”
“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”
“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.
“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”
The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.
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When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.
“Where?” She asked him
“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.
“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.
“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”
“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”
“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.
“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”
“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?
“They’re at the swamp”
“How are you so sure?”
“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”
“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.
“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.
“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.
“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”
“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.
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While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.
He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.
“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.
“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”
And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.
“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.
“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”
“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.
“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.
He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.
He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’
It was far too late for that.
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When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.
“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.
Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.
“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.
But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.
He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.
He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.
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When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.
“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.
“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.
“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.
“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.
“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.
“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.
“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.
“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”
“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”
Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.
“Goddamnit”
You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.
“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.
You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.
After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.
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toruro · 1 year
Text
love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one
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pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4
description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.
“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.
tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited
w/c: 6.7k
a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:
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“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”
He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.
You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.
It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”
The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.
After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.
“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”
You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.
“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”
“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”
He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”
You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”
“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”
You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.
When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.
“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”
He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.
“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.
“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.
“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.
“Everything alright?”
Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."
"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"
"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."
"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.
"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”
“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”
You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.
“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”
“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.
It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.
The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.
“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.
“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.
“But what if—”
“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.
“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.
“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.
“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”
Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”
“Yeah!”
“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”
“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.
“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.
“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.
As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.
And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.
Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.
Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.
“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.
“Yes! I assume you are too?”
“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”
“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”
The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”
You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.
“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”
You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”
“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.
“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..
“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."
Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .
You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.
Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.
Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.
Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!
You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.
“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.
“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.
“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.
From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.
He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.
“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”
“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”
The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.
Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.
You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.
Jeon Wonwoo.
You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?
So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.
The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.
Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.
It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.
“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.
“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”
He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”
“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”
“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.
“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.
“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.
“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.
“But I wanna play Mommy!”
“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”
He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.
“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.
“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.
Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.
The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.
His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.
It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.
As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.
You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.
“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”
He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”
“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.
Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.
“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.
“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”
“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.
It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.
“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.
He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”
You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”
Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.
“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.
“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.
“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”
You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”
“You aren’t bothering me.”
“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”
“You’re really good at this, you know?”
“Good at what?”
“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.
“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"
You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.
Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.
And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.
He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.
“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.
“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.
Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.
“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”
“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.
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a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!
pt.2
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satorusluver · 4 months
Text
Bad boyfriend, good fuck.
Word count: 280 ish
Tags/warnings: smut (MDNI), fem reader, toxic relationship, mating press, unprotected sex, creampie
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Toji is the "you know I hate it when I'm left on read but he make it all up in the bed" type boyfriend. He will ignore your texts and calls for two or three days and then show up at your house and blow your fucking back out as an apology. He knows what he's doing too, because in a matter of minutes he'll have you too cockdrunk to remember why you were mad at him in the first place.
You'll only be able to focus on the fat head of his cock nudging against that spongy spot deep inside you that makes your toes curl. He makes sure he angles you so you can watch his cock fuck you too - having you lie on your back with your legs spread and knees pushed up so you have a good view of his thick length disappearing into your body over and over.
He wants you to know exactly what it looks like, 'cause how can you be mad at him when you're so fucked out on the sight of his cock, eight inches of girth almost thick enough to unhinge your jaw, ramming into and splitting open your tiny cunt?
He's sorry, he whispers in your ear as you drift off to sleep in his arms, basking in the afterglow of three apology orgasms and with his cum still leaking out of you. He's a piece of shit, and he'll admit it freely, but he's a piece of shit who loves you and has a dick big enough to ruin you for other guys. He just hopes that's enough to keep you around the next time he screws up.
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shinynewboots · 29 days
Text
Listen to your Heart: Adam x pregnant!reader
AN: Lol I enjoyed writing this wonderful prompt for @madmiriam! I wasn't sure exactly what direction I wanted to take with this but fluff felt the most appropriate (lol all it takes is one comment though for me to write a pt 2 with smut bc I lowkey can see the vision now). I hope y'all enjoy! The prompt kept getting away from me so I tried to reel it in as much as I could so please bear with me lol
Warnings/tags: Pregnancy, reader's death/graphic details (backstory), cursing, guilt, sickeningly sweet fluff, slice of life, no beta we die like Adam
Note: S1 and S2 refer to the heart sounds heard in a normal cardiac cycle (think lub, dub).
You had never given much thought to how your second "life" would turn out. Avoiding exorcists on extermination day? Sure, that was to be expected. Working the same job you had worked when you were alive? Eh, that made sense, the hospital you worked at when you were alive was basically hell on earth most days.
Falling pregnant with a fallen angel's baby? Absolutely not.
You had freaked out a bit at first when you found out. You had been a doctor for fuck's sake. You should have been smarter. Except for the whole "being dead thing", which you assumed meant reproduction was off the table. Which it was, in most cases. Except for—
"Angelic Sperm," Adam said when you told him you were pregnant.
"What?" Of all the things you had expected him to say, this was not it. You had expected him to grow angry or childish, as you had known him prone to doing.
"Angelic Sperm." He repeated again, giving you a curious look.
"Adam you can repeat that all you want but that doesn't mean I know what you're talking about."
"Angelic Sperm. I think that's the only way for a sinner to get pregnant in hell. I mean, think about it, Princess of Hell is technically half-angel, half-sinner. And you've got sinners fucking all the time without getting knocked up. Come on, Y/N, weren't you a doctor?"
Adam scratched his head in contemplation, taking in this new information. You looked over at him in anger.
"I tell you I'm pregnant and all you can talk about is sperm?"
Adam looks over at you, a calm look on his face. He takes you into his arms, more gently than he ever had, and pulled you close to him. He kissed the top of your heard, his lips lingering far longer than they normally would.
"I'm so fucking excited, Y/N."
And so now you found yourself 5 months pregnant in Hell. You had begun to wear baggy clothes to not show your swollen stomach. You couldn't imagine what some sinners or overlords would do if they found out there was actually a way to get pregnant in an otherwise barren wasteland.
Adam had been very attentive to you in your pregnant state. You still had to work at the local hospital, trying to get in as many shifts as possible before the birth. When you'd gotten of work, Adam would always have some kind of food craving awaiting you, and together you would rot on the couch until it was time for bed and the day to start all over again.
There was one such time of rotting that you had found yourself lying on the couch beside Adam, on of his hands dropped across your waist and a hand lightly holding your baby. Baby, which Adam had begun to affectionately call "Little Hellion", was kicking happily in against your bladder.
You grimaced at the sensation, your body tensing against Adam. Sensing your discomfort, he kissed your forehead and pulled you tight. "Living up to your name, Hellion."
"They get it from their dad," You replied, your breath becoming more even as Hellion decided to turn their kicking attention elsewhere. Adam rubbed circles around your stomach, which seemed to appease Hellion.
"What are we going to do about after? I can't even imagine trying to raise a child in Hell, constantly on edge even more than usual." You finally asked, a question burning in the pit of your stomach for months. Hell was no place for a child. Would the baby even age? Sinners stopped aging from the moment they died. The Princess of Hell aged, though slower than a human would, but you didn't know what that meant for your baby. And other sinners would notice if they aged. Questions would be asked...questions that would be dangerous to answer.
Adam sighed and ran a hand through his soft, brown hair. "I've been thinking about that too. I think we need to go to the hotel."
You turned to look at him, your brow furrowed. "The Hazbin Hotel? Where you got fucking murdered?"
Adam laughed without humor. "Fucking insane right? And it's such a lame-ass place. But, I have to think about my family. You and Hellion are my family now, Y/N."
Warmth spread throughout your chest, Adam's confession taking you by surprise. He was rarely so vulnerable with you, mostly choosing to hide behind his mask of bravado and masculinity. You smiled at him. Hellion seemed to approve of his words as well because you received a sharp kick in your side.
"I think we should try and see if Hell Princess' redemption plans are even worth a shit. And even if they aren't, she, or Hell forbid fucking Lucifer, might have a better shot at getting in contact with Heaven than I do."
"Heaven? You want us to try and get into Heaven?" You shivered at the thought. You felt...dirty. Unclean. Unworthy of redemption. You had been sent to Hell for a reason and felt you would always serve your sentence.
"We have to try everything, Y/N. I...I have to try everything." Adam looked desperate, his golden eyes shimmering in a way you had never seen.
Adam kissed your forehead and continued rubbing circles around your stomach. He began to softly sing a Rolling Stones song you couldn't remember the name of.
And that was how you found yourself at the front door of the Hazbin Hotel, face-to-face with Lucifer of all people.
"Ooh, not sure if there are any rooms left in the inn. Might have you stay in the stables. I'm sure we have a manger or two for your convenience."
"I'm sorry, are you seriously making a Jesus joke right now?" You deadpanned as you stared at the King of Hell with an unamused expression. You had a hand on your stomach and you could feel Adam tense beside you.
"Get the fuck out of our way, Morningstar, your kid told us she would meet us here."
"Daddd!" Charlie yelled, running closer to the group at the front door. "I told you to let me answer the door!"
Lucifer at least had the grace to look sheepish. He moved behind Charlie, who happily welcomed you and Adam inside.
She grinned at you as she led you both to your room. "Congratulations by the way! So sorry about my dad, he always likes to try and push Adam's buttons."
"Fucking pussy," Adam muttered. You shot him a glare. "Stay away from him as much as you can."
"And ugh, Congratulations by the way! Adam told me all about it when he came to meet with me about you both joining the hotel! This is so exciting! And we have so many crafts and exercises and —"
"Hey, one fucking step at at time, Princess." Adam interrupted, sensing you tense at Charlie's words.
Charlie nodded and looked at you apologetically. "Sorry, I just get a little over-excited! We are so happy to have you here."
You smiled up at her softly. "We really appreciate you for letting us come to the hotel."
*
That night, you both lay in bed in your new home as you began your paths of redemption. Your head was on Adam's chest and you listened to the constant beat of his heart. Listening to the beat of the heart or pulse had always had a calming effect on you, even when alive. S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2
"Adam what if you get redeemed, and I—I don't. And I ruin everything. I don't deserve to be in Heaven."
"Why would fucking think that, Y/N. You deserve it more than anyone I know." He asked, his voice full of surprise.
"Because I killed someone!" You exclaimed, tears rolling down your eyes. "I was stupid and I killed someone and now I am meant to rot in Hell for all eternity. And I've damned our kid to this."
Adam wiped one of the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek. "And you don't think I have? Do you know how many sinners I've killed? Happily?"
"Adam, it's different."
"Try me."
You swallowed hard. "I was coming off of a 24-hour shift at the hospital. I was so tired. So fucking tired. And I knew better than to drive home. But my apartment was just 20 minutes away. And I thought it would be okay. I could have slept for an hour or two in the on-call room but I was so ready to get home."
Tears began streaming down your face at full force. Adam pulled you closer, surprisingly silent. "And then I fell asleep behind the wheel. I was only a mile from my house. I crashed into another car that had a mom and her kid in it. They died on impact. I was still alive, just barely, and bled out in my car before EMS could arrive."
"Y/N, you made a mistake. Fuck, I've made even more than that, definitely worse too."
"I just don't think I'm worthy of heaven."
Adam kissed your forehead and continued to hold you close. "Most of those fuckers who make it to Heaven aren't worth even half of you. You deserve Heaven. Shit, you owe it to yourself and Hellion to try."
"I'm just so scared Adam."
"I know. But we will take this one step at a time. Trust me, babe." He put a hand on your stomach. That had been one of his favorite things to do since the early days of your pregnancy. And Hellion seemed to know when their father was near, as you would get what you assumed were happy kicks in the direction of Adam's hand.
You nodded, cuddling in closer to him. One of his wings furled around you, creating a blanket for you and Hellion. You felt safe; warm. More so than you could remember feeling in a long time.
Everything would work itself out. And you and Adam would be redeemed just in time for Hellion to be born inside the pearly gates.
You found yourself focusing on Adam's heart once more.
S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2
Everything would be okay. It had to be.
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maplesyrupsainz · 5 months
Text
˖⁺。˚⋆˙ur hot call me | GR63˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: george russell x florist y/n reader (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: none jus fluff :)
summary: in which a mysterious boy leaves a note for you to call him in your workplace, so you do
a/n: got a super vague request for george content so hope i did him justice!!! i luv george sorry if it's soo short
request!!!!: hello hello, i would like to request a george smau? i know we love him and carmen but... i'm in my george feels tonight so... i don't think i have an actual request i just want more george...
my masterlist
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, user1, and 1,183 others
yourusername this is me trying not to exclusively post 🌻🌹🌷🪻!!
view all 89 comments
yourbff i miss u!
yourusername i miss u too come visit the shop this week! 💐
georgerussell63
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liked by alex_albon, landonorris, and 333,728 others
georgerussell63 🌊🌺👯‍♂️🍷
view all 4,283 comments
charles_leclerc thanks again for the flowers george
alex_albon ?? he got me flowers too
landonorris the boy is mineee
georgerussell63 can everyone relax
user1 my favs fr
user2 who r the flowers for george russell 63⁉️
user3 me
charles_leclerc me
user4 😭
messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
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liked by yourbff, georgerussell63, and 102 others
yourbff where are you
yourusername on a date 🤫
yourusername with flower shop boy
yourbff tell me everything
georgerussell63 posted a story
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 137,183 others
charles_leclerc the mystery woman
landonorris interesting
messages ->
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twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, yourbff, and 1,728 others
yourusername 🐱💐🌼❤️
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georgerussell63 nice caption
yourusername i copied (u)😊
yourbff the note lol
yourusername 🤫
user8 wait
twitter ->
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messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, user8, and 3,283 others
yourusername some of my favourite bouquets from this week 🌷
view all 1,019 comments
yourbff the last one is insane & my favourite ever
yourusername this is exactly how i feel about u
user10 this is george's new gf's account??
comment deleted by yourusername
user11 she doesnt seem like george's usual type
comment deleted by yourusername
user12 this is george's gf?? why is she a flop lowkey
comment deleted by yourusername
comments are now restricted on this post
twitter ->
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instagram ->
georgerussell63
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, and 402,837 others
georgerussell63 pic haul
view all 6,273 comments
user17 no girl this time
user18 she cant handle it i think
yourbff make dinner for me next time too im left out
georgerussell63 are you sure you want that
user19 who is this girl ?? what is going on 😭
user20 how many gfs george got 💀
charles_leclerc everyone is obsessed with your personal life george
georgerussell63 i know, how boring
user21 yikes
messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, yourbff, and 63,273 others
yourusername it's u & me thts my whole world <3
tagged: georgerussell63
view all 11,183 comments
georgerussell63 oh my god
yourusername hello bf 👋
georgerussell63 hello my perfect perfect gf
user22 OMG
user23 omg
user24 we knew it
yourbff & i rmmbr the day he gave u his number on a lil note
yourusername come a long way
georgerussell63 it was love at first sight
charles_leclerc we lost a real one today
alex_albon fly high 🕊️
georgerussell63 so dramatic for what?
user25 new favourite wag
liked by yourusername
THE END 🤍
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xxchumanixx · 2 months
Note
fake dating tim bradford 🙏🏼🙏🏼 do as you will
Fake it 'til you make it
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Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Warnings/Tags: jealousy, fluff, a little angst if you squint, unspoken feelings
Word count: 2.325
Authors note: Hello, love, thanks for the request! I really hope this lives up to your expectations! The idea with the class reunion came rather spontaneously, but I hope it's good enough!
Enjoy!
Tim Bradford Masterlist
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It's wasn't that you couldn't find a date - you just couldn't find one with the right person.
At least that's what you told yourself whilst looking at the e-mail displayed on your phone, sighing inwardly.
Your class from high-school planned to make a reunion, a shitty excuse to talk about the things you had accomplished over the last years and how great your lives were.
Rolling your eyes you locked your phone, still thinking about the last part of the mail, where you were told to bring your partner, husband or 'soulmate' - if you had one.
But you didn't.
Looking up, after shoving the phone inside your pocket, your eyes met Tim's. He rose a brow questioningly, sipping his beer.
Sighing you took a sip of your own, your gaze wandering over the crowd gathered at the food truck, before you looked back to him.
Or you just couldn't date the man you secretly loved - but that was another story.
"My class from high-school wants to make a reunion." you explained, shaking your head slightly, as you peeled off the corner of the sticker on your bottle.
"Sounds nice, have fun." Tim gave back nonchalantly, causing you to look at him in confusion. "Not that I'd voluntarily go to a class reunion." he added, and you groaned.
"Yeah, I'm not sure if I'll go, either." you told him, wiping over your face with your free hand. Again he rose a brow, tilting his head slightly as he waited for you to explain.
"Class reunions are just a shitty excuse to brag about your career, your wonderful life and not to forget: 'your partner, husband or soulmate'."
His brows knitted together as he chuckled silently at your quoted words.
"And what exactly is your problem?" he asked, taking another sip, before continuing, not waiting for an answer. "Your making career at the LAPD, have a good life, so I assume it's the 'soulmate' thing."
Rolling your eyes you couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah, maybe it's the 'lacking boyfriend' problem." you confirmed, your smile slowly fading. "I don't want them to think that I'm still single, that I still wasn't able to find someone willing to date me."
Shaking his head he leaned forward on the table, elbows resting on the scratched wood.
"Why is this so important to you? I'm a divorced single, and I don't give a fuck about what other people think about it."
Sighing you looked away for a second.
"Other people aren't Stacy Howard, Tim." you told him, when you looked back. His brows knitted together. "Who?"
"Stacy Howard was the most popular girl at my school." you explained, struggling to hold his gaze as it sent pleasant shivers down your spine. "And she just so happened to be in my class. She used every opportunity to bully me, mostly making fun of me for not finding a boyfriend."
He leaned back a little, now understanding why you didn't want to go alone.
It was silent for a while as you watched your Rookies talking in a small group.
"What if you go with a fake boyfriend?" Tim suddenly broke the silence, causing your gaze to snap back to his.
"What do you mean?" you wanted to know, irritation clear on your face. "I mean, that you could ask someone to be your fake boyfriend for the class reunion, so they can't judge you for being single." he explained, toying with his now empty bottle.
Huffing a laugh you shook your head.
"And who am I supposed to ask?" you returned. "Smitty?"
His face contorted like he bit on something sour, before he shook his head. "God, no." he spoke, looking at you like you were out of your mind. "Not even you can be that desperate."
Giving him a pointed look you crossed your arms over your chest, after setting your bottle down on the table.
He chuckled half-heartedly, his gaze wandering away for a second, before he looked back at you, sighing quietly. "What about me?"
Unfolding your arms you leaned a little closer, shock written on your face. "Are you serious?" you wanted to know, your heart hammering in your chest.
Never did you expect for him to volunteer.
Shrugging, he rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I mean, only if you want me to do it." he said, still looking at you.
A smile tugged at your lips, as warmth flooded you. He was willing to be your boyfriend for a day - even if it was fake.
"What about the part where you told me you'd never voluntarily go to a class reunion?" you asked, cocking a brow at him, as a grin stretched your lips.
"Hey, I can take that offer back as fast as I made it!" he warned. "So?"
"Yes!" you almost shouted, before composing yourself. "I mean, sure, if you really want to... that would be great."
He grinned slightly at your reaction, making you blush, before he stood. "Text me when and where and I'll come pick you up."
Nodding you smiled up at him, not believing the luck you had. "Thank you."
Nodding as well, he left.
Friday afternoon came quicker than you had expected.
As the time ticked closer to when Tim would be picking you up, you got nervous.
What if he changed his mind? You wouldn't blame him.
The dress you chose was tight, hugging your curves and went down to your knees. You weren't that insecure about your looks, but in this situation you couldn't help but wonder nervously, if he would like it.
When the doorbell rang you flinched. Your heart raced as you made your way to the front door, opening it to see Tim in a suit.
He wasn't happy about the dress code, but he had already offered his help, so he refused to back down now.
When he saw you his eyes widened almost unnoticeable, mouth slightly agape. Blushing you cleared your throat, greeting him.
"Hey." he greeted you back. "You look beautiful, Y/N." Swallowing, your blush intensified. "Thank you, you clean up pretty good as well, Mr. Bradford."
He smirked, offering you his arm.
Chuckling you took it, after grabbing your purse, before you followed him to his truck.
Taking a seat on the passenger side you exhaled shakily, nervous about the evening that lay before you. When Tim entered he started the engine, silently driving towards your destination.
The schools gym was beautifully decorated, matching the dress code. Entering the big hall you looked around, already spotting familiar faces.
"Whoever made this dress code was clearly planning the wrong event." Tim mumbled, making you laugh. "Yeah, it feels like a gala of some sorts."
Nodding he agreed with you, carefully guiding you through the already crowded hall. You weren't expecting that much people, when you received the invitation.
They must have invited everyone who was in the same grade as you, when you finished school.
A blonde woman walked towards you, a smile on her pink lips.
"Y/N!" she called, coming to a halt infront of you. "Is that really you?" Smiling back you nodded. "Hey Sara - yes it's really me."
As she eyed Tim for a moment, you felt how you became jealous. "This is my boyfriend: Tim." you introduced him, doing your best to keep that smile on your face.
They shook hands, as Tim greeted her. "Nice to meet you, Sara." She nodded, her smile getting wider. "Nice to meet you too, Tim."
Clearing your throat awkwardly, you faced Sara. "How have you been?" you wanted to know, trying to divert her attention.
"Oh, great actually, thank you!" she returned. "I married Brad - if you remember him - and currently work as a model." Smiling, you nodded.
Of course you remembered Brad. He was the quarterback of your high-school's team back then, the cliché douchebag every girl had a crush on - except for you.
He wasn't the smartest, something you found rather unattractive.
"What about you? What have you done the last couple years?" Sara inquired. "I work for the LAPD, I'm a cop." you explained, looking at Tim. "He's a cop as well." "Guilty." he added, smiling a little.
Sara's eyes widened. "Wow!" she made. "That is so cool!"
Before she could have said more she was interrupted by a tall brunette - Brad. His arm snaked around her waist, his toothpaste grin directed at you.
"Y/L/N!" he greeted you. "Long time no see!" Nodding you agreed, silently wishing for this conversation to be over as quick as possible.
It took an hour or two, in which you drank some champagne and ate some appetizers, whilst chatting with former class mates.
You were currently talking to Janette, a small brunette who was publishing her own books, as she was interrupted by a blonde woman, who stopped beside her.
She looked at you in disbelieve, her eyes briefly wandering to Tim, before she fixated you.
"Y/N Y/L/N." she said, tilting her head. "Stacy Howard." you returned, stiffening slightly. Tim must have noticed, as his hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
You would thank him later for that.
"May you introduce us?" Stacy asked, pointing at Tim. Clearing your throat, you did as she asked. "Stacy, this is Tim Bradford - my boyfriend."
She huffed quietly, shaking Tim's hand as he offered it.
"Never thought you would actually land someone." she spoke, still looking at Tim. He bit his cheek, as you bit your lip, swallowing.
That had to come, right?
"She always was single, our little Y/N." Stacy started to explain, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Never found the right one, no one wanted to date her. I'm surprised she found someone this handsome."
Before you could have said anything, you felt Tim's hand stiffen in yours. Clearing his throat, he looked at Stacy, who was almost at eye level, given her heels.
"Actually, Y/N is one of the most wonderful women I know." he began to explain and you felt your cheeks growing hot. "She's smart, funny, a good cop and not to mention beautiful. I don't see why she shouldn't date someone 'handsome'. If anything, she deserves the best there is. There is no need for you to treat her like that."
Stacy was speechless, as she only nodded after gawking at him like a fish, before grabbing Janette and walking away.
"Wow." you said, stunned at his reaction. "You're taking the part as my fake boyfriend very seriously."
His brows knitted as he looked down at you, confused. "I mean that your acting is very good." you explained, smiling nervously. "Like you did that before."
Shaking his head he huffed. "You really think I was acting? I meant what I said." he told you, looking you in the eyes as his words stole your breath.
You didn't know what to say, only gawking at him like Stacy did only seconds before.
"You're smart, funny, you're a good cop. And you're beautiful. What she said wasn't right - and I won't let her treat you like that."
Tears stung your eyes, as you struggled to keep up the eye contact.
"Do you really mean that?" you wanted to know, as you were suddenly struck by insecurities. He could have only said it to make you feel better, after all.
Nodding, he sighed. "I did." he admitted.
A smile stretched your lips, as you looked away from him, suddenly becoming shy.
He found you beautiful.
"Hey, look-" he began, causing your gaze to snap back to his. "I know that I'm only here as your boyfriend for the night. But-" he cut himself off, searching for the right words.
"I really do mean what I said and I- I don't want to fake this- being your boyfriend and all." He sighed, rubbing his chin. "I love you, Y/N." he then suddenly admitted, causing your mouth to open in shock, eyes widening.
"I know that we're colleagues and I know that I could be misreading things- but I had to tell you. How could I fake being your boyfriend now and then go back to normal? I got a taste of it and now I don't want to give it back anymore."
Tears stung your eyes, as your heart nearly exploded.
He loved you?
He loved you!
"I love you too." you told him through the tears, before he could have said any more.
He huffed, as a smile split his lips.
"And it only took us a couple hours of fake dating to realize." he said, shaking his head.
Shaking your head you looked up at him. "I was actually hoping you'd offer your help." you admitted, biting your lip. "Yeah?" he asked, as he took a step closer, his hands finding your hips.
"Yeah." you murmured, blushing even more. "I kind of like you for quite some time now." He rose a brow at your words, smirking. "How long?" he wanted to know.
Huffing you sighed. "A few months, give or take."
Chuckling he got even closer, his breath fanning over your face as his lips ghosted over yours. "How many?"
You contemplated for a moment, before you responded. "About eight months?" He leaned back a little, tilting his head. "Wow, I should have done this earlier." he noticed, before he leaned back in.
"Well, then we have at least eight months of kissing to catch up." With that, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours.
Something inside you exploded, as your arms wrapped around his neck, hands brushing through his hair.
Pure luck and happiness mixed with love, as his lips moved against yours.
They matched like they were made for each other.
When you separated out of breath he leaned his forehead against yours.
"Let's make it official then." he suggested, smirking. Chuckling you pecked his lips, before responding. "Yeah, let's make it official."
268 notes · View notes
allysunny · 3 months
Note
Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀
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"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara
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Words: 4.1k words
Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!
Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3
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“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.
Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.
“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.
“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.
You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.
“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.
Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”
You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.
You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).
“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.
You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”
He only sighed in response and shook his head.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.
His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.
She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that.  He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.
She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.
She can’t clean either – let him handle it.
The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.
So why wouldn’t he treat you with the utmost care?
“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.
“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.
You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.
“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.
You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.
“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.
Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.
“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.
You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.
“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”
“No me importa. Que vean.”
“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.
“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”
“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.
“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”
Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.
“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”
Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.
“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”
“Miguel!”
“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.
“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”
“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.
Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.
“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “
“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”
“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”
“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.
You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.
You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.
A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.
You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.
The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.
Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.
You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.
So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?
You looked at the woman again.
She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.
And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.
And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?
It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
You refused to meet his eye.
“Mhm. Just peachy.”
“Are you cold?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why are you covering yourself?”
“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.
Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.
And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.
"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.
And then everything fell into place.
The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.
And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.
“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.
“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “
“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.
You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.
“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.
There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.
“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”
“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.
“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.
“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.
“I feel so unworthy.”
“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”
“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”
Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.
“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.
“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”
Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.
“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”
You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”
Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.
“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.
Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“You forgot the most important part.”
You looked up, confusion in your features.
“She will never be you.”
Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.
“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”
You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.
“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.
“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.
“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”
Miguel quickly cut you off.
“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
You nodded with a small smile.
“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.
“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.
“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”
You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.
You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.
For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.
You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?
You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn’t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.
You would be okay.  
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A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.
Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3
299 notes · View notes
writerslittlelibrary · 7 months
Text
I'm not sleeping on the floor
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masterlist
summary: when you go on a mission with the famous Black Widow, who you think hates you, there appears to be some trouble with the hotel booking, one that ends in the truth being revealed.  
pairing: Natasha x teen avengers reader
warnings: none I think
genre: fluff
words: 1695
a/n: I remember reading a fic of a Natasha x reader where the hotel only had one bed and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to read more of them, but of course I could find none so I decided to write one myself :)   (if you know any fics with this concept, please tag them in the comments)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 
 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
You sighed deeply while you sat in the car at the gas station, waiting for Natasha to finish up and continue your drive to the hotel. It was late, and both of you were tired. You knew Natasha must be mentally exhausted, always feeling as if she didn’t like you that much. At first you thought it was because you were still a teenager, but now you were convinced she just didn’t like you. 
You, however, looked up to her, and when Fury made you the offer to join the Avengers you were excited to meet her. When you did, your excitement soon faded, noticing how cold she was towards you. You were heartbroken, but soon learned that staying out of her way was the best way to go. 
And so, on most days in the compound you avoided her. When she came into the training room, you’d leave, and when you came into the kitchen she’d do the same. 
It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you thought it worked to not make her upset. That changed however, when Fury decided that the next mission was perfect for the two of you to complete, going undercover as mother and daughter at an expensive party clearly meant only for the rich. You didn’t exactly come from a rich family, and you felt very out of place during the whole evening.
You didn’t think Natasha noticed, she herself looked right where she belonged, as if she was made for this kind of life. Just another thing that made the two of you different. 
Your train of thought was interrupted when the car door opened, Natasha getting in and handing you a bottle of water. You gave her a quiet ‘thank you’ and took a few sips, clearly dehydrated from being at the party too long.
“It’s about a two hour drive to the nearest hotel,” she told you, typing in some navigation in the car. “Would you like some music?” Natasha asked as she turned to you. You didn’t dare look at her, deciding to just stare at your feet. “Sure,” you told her. 
Natasha gave a hmm of acknowledgement before putting on some music, making the rest of the car ride a lot less awkward than the previous hour had been.
Once you arrived at the hotel, Natasha told you to grab your bag and follow her inside. You followed her instructions like a lost puppy, not wanting to do anything that might make Natasha mad. Once inside the hotel, Natasha walked up to the desk, asking for a room for her and her daughter. She was smart, not letting the roles you were giving fall away just yet. 
The lady at the desk smiled sweetly, typed something into her computer and then handed Natasha a key. Natasha walked back to you, motioning to the elevator. You followed her once again.
When you made it to your room, and you walked through the door, you realized there was only one bed. Something you saw Natasha wasn’t really happy with either. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping on the floor,” she told you, settling her stuff against a wall. 
You nodded, settling your own stuff on a chair. You didn’t want to pick a side on the bed, worried Natasha would end up with a side she’d be uncomfortable with. “You can shower first,” you told her. Natasha gave a sound that resembled a ‘thanks’ before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving you alone in the empty room. 
You could hear the shower run, and the fact you didn’t have to sleep alone comforted you in a way that was hard to describe, even if it was with a person you were sure didn’t like you. You settled on sitting on the floor, grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and busying yourself with some sketching. 
Once Natasha came out, you slipped into the bathroom, wanting to shower and get into bed as quickly as possible. 
You showered quickly, getting rid of all the dirt before drying off and putting on some comfortable clothes. You walked back into the room, seeing Natasha had already settled on her side of the bed, book in her hand. She looked at you when you reentered the room, closing her book and setting it on her bedside table.
She had picked the side of the bed closest to the door. Maybe a habit of hers, you thought. So she could run out of the room the fastest. 
You walked to your bag, grabbing your favorite stuffed animal from it before settling into bed, as far away from Natasha you could manage. It was bad enough you had to sleep in the dark. All be damned if you had to sleep without your stuffed animal as well. 
You felt Natasha’s eyes on you, eyeing you as you kept your stuffed animal close. You thought she was judging you for still sleeping with one, not realizing she was simply concerned. 
You crawled under the covers, making sure Natasha had all the space she needed. This, of course, didn���t go unnoticed by the redhead, but she decided not to comment on it. 
When you joined the Avengers she didn’t agree with it at all. She told Fury she found you way too young, not even being a legal adult yet. Fury dismissed her, saying you were a perfect person. She was upset when Fury didn’t agree with her, and when she met you she was hesitant. When she saw you for the first time, her heart simply broke. You looked so young, and in your eyes she could see the world hadn’t been kind to you. 
You greeted her with a smile though, one Natasha found herself being unable to return. You were just a child. How could Fury possibly ever send you on a mission. How could he ask you to risk your life for something you probably didn’t even understand yet. After she met you, she was avoiding you, not wanting to face the reality of the fact you were risking your life in their team. When she saw you train it reminded her of the Red Room, feeling as though she was no better when she let you join the Avengers. 
Little did she know that you took this behavior as resentment towards you. And so, you started avoiding her, sensing that you made the Russian uncomfortable.  You didn’t want to be in her way, so you stayed out of it. You avoided her, and Natasha simply thought you learned about her past and were afraid of her. She decided to avoid you too, not wanting to scare you or make you uncomfortable. 
And so, the cycle began. Both of you avoided the other for months, until this mission was called. Natasha was excited she got to work with you one on one, but she was worried you wouldn’t like it. 
She sensed your uncomfortable feeling throughout the whole party, hating herself for not knowing what to do about it. When she saw the one bed she was simply afraid she’d make you more uncomfortable. She decided to sleep closest to the door so she could protect you if anything were to happen, something you picked up wrongly as well.
When she saw your stuffed animal, her heart simply broke. It was just another realization for her about how young you really were. You weren’t supposed to do these kinds of missions yet. 
“Goodnight,” she told you, turning the lights off. l
The room was completely dark, scaring you in a way you couldn’t really explain. You never liked the dark, but after your father would lock you up in that dark room every time he got sick of you, you feared it more than anything else. 
You whimpered slightly, hoping Natasha didn’t notice. Of course she did, but she didn’t let you know that. You clutched your stuffed animal closer to your body. You were terrified, feeling as though you were back in that little room. Natasha, nor any of the other Avengers knew about your past. Together with Fury you decided to keep it a secret, thinking it was better that way.
You shivered, pulling the blanket a little higher up. 
“Are you okay?” you heard a voice from beside you. Your head whipped around, your mind completely leaving the hotel room and you got stuck inside your own head. 
“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Natasha said, sitting up a little. “You’re safe,” you looked at her with fear for a few seconds, before you realised where you were. Your body relaxed a little, the blanket not held so tight anymore. 
“Do you not like the dark?” Natasha asked you carefully. You slowly shook your head, scared you might make her upset. “We can keep a light on, or I could hold you… maybe…” Natasha continued unsure. She still thought you were afraid of her, and didn’t want to overstep.
“Why would you help me? You don’t even like me…” you told her, looking down at your stuffed animal. 
Natasha frowned. Was that really what you thought of her? “What do you mean?” she asked you confused. “You walk away when I’m training, you don’t even look at me, and you always seem to be mad at me,” you told her slowly, still not looking at her.
“I thought you were afraid of me…” Natasha said softly. You looked at her now, eyes a little wide. “Afraid of you? No. I admired you. I just figured you didn’t like me so I kept my distance,” you explained to her. Natasha smiled at you. “I didn’t agree with Fury for placing you on the team because you’re so young. It has nothing to do with you, or the person you are,” Natasha explained, shuffling a little closer.
“Come here.” She opened her arms, letting you shuffle into them. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” she said as she held her arms around you, giving you a secure and safe feeling.
“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Anytime kid,” Natasha replied as she let her own eyes close, falling asleep peacefully. 
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strawhbrrries · 11 months
Text
Inked
pairing: tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader
summary: frank castle was praised for his work constantly, leading you to get a thigh piece. which then leads you into a problem because your artist is so fucking attractive
warnings: cussing, masturbation (m and f), fingering, frank with no shirt, tattooed frank!!!, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 
word count: 2732 words
author’s note: this has been a looooong time coming so i'm excited to finally be able to share it with you guys!! i hope it does the drabble that started it some justice. dedicated to the sweet anon that requested it be turned into a full fic! please enjoy! mwah!
tags: @kloofspeaks
inspired by this drabble!
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Your wallet was burning a hole in your pocket, a big gaping tattoo shaped hole. To match the tattoo shaped hole in your wallet was a perfect spot on your thigh just begging to be decorated, but your current artist was booked so far out and you needed it now. 
“Just go to this guy.” Your friend mentioned, giving you the contact information for one of the artists at the studio they frequented. His work was insane, you spent an entire week looking and relooking at all the pictures he posted before ever working up the courage to email him, he was faceless and you assumed he was some old man who’d been in the game a long time.
You couldn’t be more wrong.
“Can I help you?” A deep voice snapped you back to reality, you had gotten side tracked looking at all the art on the wall from all the artists in the studio. The guy you were seeing, Mr. Castle, had the best work though and you were glad your friend had mentioned him. 
You turned around and immediately wanted to hide, a very handsome man with a tall stature was the source of the voice. It made your panties wet and made you want to rub your thighs together to relieve the building tension, not that it would help but you sure could try. He was rugged, in a gorgeous way, his hair was fluffy and fell over his ears but his jaw was sharp and complimented the style. His face was serious, not that he was trying to be but it made you nervous. Made you want to confess every bad thing you’d ever done out of sheer anxiousness, to fill the silence as he waited for your answer. You hoped he wasn’t your artist just for your sake, and maybe for your underwear.
“Yeah, uhm. I have a consultation with Mr. Castle.” Your voice was much softer than his, you looked down to avoid eye contact with him. To avoid spilling your guts to some handsome stranger who was probably married because how could he not be? 
“That’d be me.” For the first time since you saw him a smile appeared on his face, it complimented him more than the stoic look he carried. The blush that arose was almost embarrassing, he thought it was cute. “Just Frank though.”
“Huh?” You stopped listening after he mentioned he was your artist, the blood pumping in your ears being the only sound you heard. Of course you would end up with the world's most attractive man as your artist and of course he was going to be touching all over your legs, this was a cruel dream. You’d practically broken a finger from how hard you were squeezing your hands.
“Just call me Frank, Mr. Castle is my dad and I hate the formality.” He chuckled, writing something on the clipboard he’d been holding. You hadn’t noticed anything below his neck and now you were actively, and very obviously, checking him out.
His arms were veiny and filled with tattoos that disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt and poked back out at the neck before disappearing down his back, it seemed he had one big connecting tattoo but you couldn’t exactly ask him to strip in public. You couldn’t see his legs or his chest but you assumed they were also covered in tattoos, you wanted nothing more to learn about them all. 
“You can just follow me this way, the consultation won’t take long.” He cleared his throat, clearing the awkward air that hung between you. 
He walked to a booth all the way in the back and to the left, pulled the curtain closed after you walked in. Motioning to the chair that sat in the middle of the space you sat down and placed your purse on your lap, mentally cursing yourself for being so fucking awkward. This wasn’t your first tattoo so what was your problem? He was and you knew it. 
“Did you get the email I sent? I know my description of the idea was bad so I can explain it better.” You rambled, watching him sit on the swivel chair next to you and pick up an ipad from the counter that sat in the back. 
“Yeah, let me show you what I drew up and we can go from there.” He looked at you through his hair as he leaned his elbows against his knees, pulling up the drawing. He turned around and the ipad and handed it to you, chuckling when your eyes lit up at the design.
“It’s like you read my mind, holy shit. This is exactly what I envisioned.” For the first time since you saw him your voice was confident and loud, your eyes bright and your mouth a bright smile. He slowly took the ipad back and let out a laugh, god he was attractive.
“It’s what I do. Do you like it, does it need any change? If so I can fix those right now and then I can print it out and we can play with sizes.” He watched your face, he could almost see the gears turning in your head as you processed his words.
“It’s perfect, no changes.” You nodded, smiling big.
He printed out a few sizes and tested each of them against your thigh, he pretended not to notice the blush that only darkened in shade every time he touched you. You appreciated it, trying your best to regulate your breathing and the pounding your heart was doing. You worried if you’d be able to control yourself when it came to the actual tattoo, he would be touching you nonstop for an unknown amount of time. He settled on the middle size, taking up a big chunk of the free space you had but not so much it looked awkwardly big and not too little so it looked too small.
You had trusted him and set the date for your actual tattoo, two weeks from the day you went in. You spent every day and every night for the next two weeks thinking about him. If you were making breakfast you thought about how he liked his bacon cooked, his coffee, or if he even ate it at all. If you were showering you thought about the products he used and if he used a loofah or a rag, if he had separate conditioner and shampoo. When you laid awake at night, hands stuffed in your panties wanting to cry his name, you thought if he was doing the same. Came to the image of his smile and fell asleep to the sound of his voice playing in your mind.
He’d seen thousands of clients, tattooed plenty of attractive women, but nobody had been so stuck in his head like you. After he walked you to the door he went back to his booth, closed the curtain and fucked his hand like a teenage boy. Washed his hands in the bathroom and went to greet his next client like he wasn’t thinking about bending you over the counter. Having you ride him in the tattoo chair. Making you be quiet so no one else heard you. Shit, he was hard again. He didn’t know if his self control was strong enough to avoid hitting on you and being unprofessional the next time you came in. 
The day finally came, you had counted down the days and the minutes until you could see him again. There was this incessant need to see him and try to figure out the mysteries that stood behind Frank Castle. You asked him what kind of coffee he preferred, black, and picked it up on your way to the studio. The nerves were hitting you, not only would you be getting a decent sized tattoo but it’d be done by the most attractive man you’d ever seen. The man you’d spent two weeks masturbating to, this was going to be fun.
“God, this is just what I need this morning.” He groaned, taking the paper cup of coffee out of your hand and taking a long sip. “Typically I try not to drink caffeine on days I’m actually tattooing, makes the hand shake sometimes. I was up late last night so this is a must.”
“And I’m using it to get rid of the shakes.” You joked, taking a sip of your coffee and following him back to the booth. 
You’d opted to wear a yellow sundress, not by choice as it was one of the only clean articles of clothing you had that left your thigh relatively exposed. It was a choice you were now regretting, in the days leading up to the appointment you apparently did everything but laundry. Frank was trying his hardest to ignore it, he was insanely glad he’d walked in front of you. Had he been behind you he’d for sure stared at your ass the entire walk to his booth. He can’t deny that he hadn’t when he made you enter the booth before him, it was a glorious sight. He adjusted his pants before he did anything else, this was going to be a grueling few hours.
He carefully placed the stencil on your thigh, being careful to move the dress up just enough that it wasn’t in the way but not too much so your pussy was on display. He wished it was. He wanted to eat you out like it was his last meal. But he refrained. He’d been on his best behavior so far and he was determined to stay that way, no matter how much he wanted to hike your dress up and pull your panties down to your ankles. Once he finally was satisfied with the stencil placement he asked for your opinion, as it was going on your body forever and not his. You had him adjust the angle once before deciding it was perfect, he had to ask three times before you admitted you didn’t like the original placement.
The tattoo took three hours, three long hours of his hands touching you in the most non-sexual way but yet turning you on ridiculously. You were sure that by the time he’d wrapped your tattoo there was a large stain on the fabric of your panties, a part of you wanted him to see it and know he caused it. The other part was embarrassed. They were fighting to see which part would take over.
“Can I see your tattoos?” You asked softly, an attempt to stay with him longer and avoid going home. You knew you could just book another appointment but what fun would waiting be? You could just stall for as long as you could.
“Oh? Yeah, sure.” His face was shocked, like nobody in the entire world had ever asked to see the intricate tattoo that was drawn across his body. You refused to believe it.
You watched intently as he removed his shirt, your eyes following the lines that were revealed by the lack of fabric. He watched silently as you raked your eyes over his skin, a small hint of a blush covered his cheeks. He’d never had someone so curious about his tattoos and want to see them, it was odd to be the one in the spotlight. 
“Can I touch them?” You looked up at him, moving a bit closer as you waited for his response.
“Yeah…” He breathed out, quiet and waiting for the feeling of your hand on his skin. His breath hitched in his throat the second he felt it, the warmth of your hand felt incredible on his skin. 
You trailed your fingers over every line, starting from the bottom of his left arm and down his chest. Goosebumps followed closely behind your fingers, the contact was something unusual to him. Welcomed, but unusual. He watched you the entire time you marveled at the ink, answering every question you had. He’d had people be interested in the ink before but never to the extent you were, he appreciated it and would think about it forever. He’d think about you forever. 
“Frank…” You whispered, looking up at him as you placed a hand on his chest. 
He looked down at you and groaned, the self control he had was no longer a thing. The pink staining your cheeks and the way your eyes were glazed over and he hadn’t even touched you made him want to do bad things. He wanted to corrupt you, bend you to his will for only him to have. His head dipped down, softly placing his lips against yours. A small whimper escaped your lips as he brought a hand to cup the side of your face, switching positions with you on the counter. Now he had you pressed against it and was able to do whatever he desired.
He nipped at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue across it to soothe any pain. He’d slipped his other hand under your dress at the same time, rubbing the skin just above your panties. You leaned your hip into his touch, bringing the hand that was on his chest to his hair. Using it to ground yourself just a bit, the fact that you were making out with the man you lusted after for two weeks was insane. It felt like a dream.
“Can I touch you?” He mumbled against your lips, playing with the band of your panties. 
You shook your head yes and helped him slide your panties down, stepping out of them and scooting them to the side to be discovered later. He slid his middle finger between your lips, gliding it up and down a minute as he continued kissing you.
“You’re so wet, who did this?” He mocked, circling your clit a few times.
“You did.” You whimpered, trying to grind down against his hand for just a bit more friction.
“That right? Been thinking about me this whole time? Wanted me to help fix your problem?” He slid his middle finger inside of you, curling it against that wonderful spongy spot.
You couldn’t muster up a response no matter how badly you wanted to, his singular finger felt better than any of your fingers had for two weeks. This was everything you wanted and more. He chuckled at you, flattered that him barely doing anything set you off like it had. 
He pumped his finger in and out slowly, watching as your juices coated his finger. Enjoying the moans he was pulling out of you, even if they were trying to entice him into adding another finger. He gave in, the pretty noises you were making he just couldn’t resist. He would do anything in this moment to please you, if you had this effect on him for everything he’d be screwed. He added another finger, kissing along your jawline as he did so. You could’ve seen stars right then and there, if this was how full you felt from just his fingers you could only imagine the fullness from his cock.
He curled his fingers rhythmically with the pumping, using his thumb to circle your clit as best he could. The knot in your stomach that had formed the day you stepped into the studio was bubbling, you could feel it twisting and tightening. Your orgasm was on the tip of your tongue and it felt explosive, three more pumps of his fingers and your vision went white. His name falling off your lips like a mantra, like it was the only name you knew and you didn’t care if the rest of the studio could hear. He was making you feel so fucking good, you could scream it from the rooftops. 
Nearing the end of your orgasm he slowed his fingers down, placing one last kiss to your lips before completely removing them. You whined at the loss, feeling so empty now that they were gone. He smiled softly at the whine, washing his hands in the sink next to the counter before bringing a towel over to help clean up any mess.
“Do you do this with all your clients?” You joked, fixing the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead.
“No, only you. Step in here in a sundress again and we’ll see what happens.”
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