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httpiastri · 4 months

Text

this christmas – op81

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

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

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

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

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

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

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

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

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

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

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

and then, you were just two.

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

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

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

"a month has never felt this long before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

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

"hey, i just wanted to-"

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod. "yeah, it does."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"exactly."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"is this okay?"

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

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

"give me your other foot."

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

compose yourself, woman.

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

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

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

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

shit.

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

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

"oh, no skiing?"

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

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

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

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

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

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

"but oscar promised to come along?"

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

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

"w-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i don't believe it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"touché."

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

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

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

"indeed..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and when he asks, you tell.

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

and then, he tells you his side.

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"and what does that mean?!"

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

"what kind of plan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

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

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

the mistletoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh, is that so?"

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

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

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

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

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

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

yet again, instant boner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"as you wish."

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

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

"just you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"apologize. now."

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

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

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1K notes · View notes

ncteez · 1 year

Text

sycophant (p.s)

If anyone were to ask you about the executive of your department, you’d say he’s too stoic, strict, and a pain in your ass. The handsome face and sleek suits don’t make up for the way he runs the department, honestly, they don’t. Strangely enough, he offers a solution to you on a silver platter during a mandatory company Christmas party and you can’t help but love the idea of taking your frustrations out on the very person who causes them.

or the one where your boss is scary and intimidating but really really wants to be slapped around behind closed doors.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

WORDCOUNT― 12.9k

PAIRING― park seonghwa x afab reader

CONTENT― submissive seonghwa, dom reader (she’s never done it before tho so cut her some slack), office setting but no mentions of the actual job bc this is a fantasy not a fucking nightmare, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (it’s just a boss/employee dynamic)

OTHER CHARACTERS― hongjoong as the company designer, yunho as the accountant, wooyoung as an intern, mingi as the guy who has drama with his date at the christmas party

NOTE― shout out to park seonghwa for being a fucking MENACE. bigger shoutout to @domjaehyun for helping me edit this fic and dealing with my shit involving said menace

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― oral (fem receiving), hair pulling and face guiding, breath play, cock warming, riding, unprotected sex, begging, choking, it’s pretty tame to be considered a sub/dom type thing but you’ll understand if you read it lmao, dirty talk, degradation(ish), praise(ish), edging, nipple play, he has a lot of cum to donate to her lmao

He is just a man. Just a man that oversees the entire department, just a man that orders pizza as a form of encouragement when his employees are physically rotting before him from the hours worked, just a man that drinks five coffees a day and appears to get paid for doing nothing but wandering the building and maintaining that everyone fears his judgment.

“Just a man?” you scoff, side-eyeing your friend as you pick your lunch apart, not bothering to check the time because you’ve already worked fifty hours this week, and surely you have another day to get through before you can think straight. You get paid a salary so, you can take as long as you fucking want to pick apart this stale sandwich.

“You don’t know him,”

“That’s a fair point, but I’m just saying, everyone hates their boss,” She laughs in pity, minimizing your complaining and shrugging at you. “You’re not special and the world isn’t out to get you.”

You glare at her before swiping your cup of watered-down iced coffee up and taking a large sip.

“Okay, so maybe the world isn’t out to get me,” you counter, “but Seonghwa sure the fuck is.”

“Oh? You’ve yet to tell me what he’s personally done to you. You doted on him when he hired you, what’s changed other than him doing his actual job?”

You glare harder, hating that you get picked apart on the clock by him, and now you’re being picked apart off the clock by your very best friend.

“Do you have a notepad? I’ve got an entire list.”

She perks up at the frustrated face you’re giving to her, nodding her head with a mischievous hunger for the drama that she, thankfully, doesn’t have to involve herself in.

“You know how during interviews, you get asked what your strengths and weaknesses are?” You ask with a frustrated voice, sipping your coffee again.

She nods enthusiastically.

“Well– when I said my weakness is taking on too much responsibility, y’know, to impress him– I didn’t expect him to put me in charge of the biggest project of the year.”

She laughs at you.

“What?!” you grouch, “I’m not even close to being done with my list!”

“I don’t think he would give you that project if he didn’t think you could do it. You don’t give yourself enough credit, you should be thanking him. Do you not want to move up the corporate ladder?”

You lean back on your chair with a creaking sound, crossing your arms and grimacing at her for defending your boss.

“Anyway, he always comes over and points out my mistakes. He uses this soft voice that I know is fake as hell because he doesn’t do that with anyone else. When he leaves his comfy fucking office, there’s like an eighty percent chance he’s coming to grill me for something–”

“Define ‘grilling’,” your friend counters, picking you apart in an uncomfortable way. She’s supposed to be your best friend, not Seonghwa’s parrot.

“Like, he just comes up with a grocery list of things that I need to fix–”

“Because you made mistakes and it’s an important project,” your friend points out. “So, what? You want him to let you fuck it up?”

You take a moment to decide if she’s right or wrong. The issue is that she doesn’t know him or how condescending he sounds when he points out the mistakes.

“I am more than capable of taking care of it on my own,” You lie, because some of the mistakes he’s pointed out really could have caused you to lose your job.

“Whatever you say, go on. That’s two points against him for you, I still just think he’s doing his job though,”

You ignore her, continuing down the list of bullshit he’s done to you.

“He glares at me,” you grouch further, “He’s nice to everyone but me, and he walks around like his asshole is made of gold.”

Your friend snorts, shaking her head at your anger. The reality that she sees is that you’re thinking too hard, you’re trying too hard to dislike him.

“Noted,” She nods her head at you, signaling that she’s grown tired of your complaining and refusal to take into account that this is just what a boss does. They glare, they point out mistakes, they’re fake toward everyone. “Onto other matters, what else is going on at work?”

You sigh, finally turning your attention back to your very sad lunch.

“There’s a fucking mandatory Christmas party, it’s also required that we dress up for it.” You grimace, appearing to be a rain cloud within this restaurant.

“Is alcohol involved, and perhaps, a plus one?”

You look at her with curiosity, “Why, you wanna be my date?”

“Only if there’s alcohol. I’d like to see the man with the golden asshole, mostly so I can understand how he’s turned my best friend into a stick in the mud.”

“There’s alcohol; if there weren’t, you know I’d be bringing some anyway.”

There’s a moment of silent agreement as the two of you nod to each other.

“I’ll respond to the invite and add your name as my plus one,” you smile, knowing that as long as she’s with you, the party can’t feel like much of a drag, “remember, it’s a formal party, so don’t dress like we are going to the club–”

You stop yourself.

“Actually, we should totally dress like we are going to the club.”

The two of you have mischievous little smiles on your faces as you finish your lunch, ignoring the fact that you’ve been at this restaurant for at least two hours by now.

The Christmas party venue is embarrassingly extravagant. A blatant show of wealth on the company’s part as you and your best friend drive to the entrance.

“They fucking hired valets?” You grimace, looking at your friend with a roll of your eye.

“Hey, maybe they’ll pay for our ride home too because I know for a fact that we are about to be the drunk bitches at a corporate party.”

You ignore her comments, not intentionally because you’re definitely gonna at least be buzzed, but because you’re being ushered out of the car and suddenly this outfit feels too much.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have literally dressed like we are going to the club,” You complain, feeling the cold December air smack right against your exposed thighs and the fabric keyhole design sitting against your chest.

“Stop being insecure, let’s go find the bar,” she ushers you much like the valet did, checking in with your names and receiving three free drink tickets each in a small envelope.

“Ah, so only the first three are free?” She looks disappointed.

“They’ve gotta pay my wages too, you know, stop complaining. Besides, you act like we don’t have our purses stuffed with airplane bottles.” You respond, wandering through the hall until finding the space where your entire company appears to already be warm and mingling among one another.

Internally, you groan. Externally, you’re smiling and waving at each person who looks your way. You feel small and trashy compared to these people but your outfit, fortunately, isn’t out of line at all. It appears that many women both within the company and some appearing to be dates went a similar route that you took with your attire. Formal is likely meant to be modest but extravagant, yet here you are fitting in with forty other women who went for showing their cleavage and thighs.

“Looks like everyone else had the same idea,” your friend mutters to you quietly, eyes scanning over the room and noticing how attractive some of these people are. “Who is that guy?”

You look at her and follow her line of vision before snorting.

“That’s Yunho,” You laugh at her interest, but you get it. “Accounting.”

She gets this evil little look on her face as she turns to you.

“What’s the starting pay for an accountant in this company?”

You shrug because you wouldn’t know, it’s still an unspoken rule to not speak of your pay to your co-workers.

“That one over there is Hongjoong, coolest dude you’ll ever meet–” you nod your head towards the man with a feisty little suit, bow tie crooked as all hell with his messy dyed hair. You can tell he’s already had well over his three free drinks because he’s sitting next to Wooyoung and appears to be having a great time.

“Oh, they hire people like that here?”

You look at your friend confused and then motion towards yourself.

“Well, they hired me, so– yeah? Plus, he’s one of our designers, you know, the artsy type.”

“And the guy he’s with?”

“Wooyoung, intern.”

You really don’t feel like introducing every single goddamn person in this building.

“What about her?” Your friend looks at the bar and points out a woman that’s practically hanging on someone else.

“I don’t know her, she’s probably just someone’s plus o–” you pause, noting that the very man she’s hanging all over is none other than your boss. “Is that fucking Seonghwa?”

Your friend is instantly interested, grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the bar as she whisper-shouts at you.

“That’s him?!” She questions, looking at you with wide eyes. “You never said he was fucking hot!”

“He’s not!” You argue, stopping at the bar and doing your best not to study his plus one. You can imagine that the woman is his girlfriend or something because Seonghwa truly does appear to be young. You still think he probably got this job because one of his parents threatened someone for it. No way in hell is he married yet.

“Are you fucking blind?” Your friend is having a great time, apparently, as she shamelessly stares at your boss. “Look at him!”

You, for some reason, listen to her. You do look at him. Never could you have imagined him wearing a suit sleeker than what he wears every day at the office, yet here he is. This time, his hair isn’t in a fixed position like normal either. The slick suit paired with the intentionally messy hairstyle does kind of make you think he might be kinda hot. Maybe you need a few drinks in you before you admit that though, mostly because it looks like your boss is trying too hard to fit in with his rowdy and laid-back employees.

By the time you order your drink and have it in hand, you’re avoiding Seonghwa again. Or, well, you’re trying to, but it appears that he has a different plan in mind. He leaves the girl hanging all over him to come up to you and your friend in a huff.

“Ah, welcome!” He greets you, looking you up and down in a way that anyone probably would after seeing you every day of the week in pantsuits and business casual dresses. “You look great! Is this your plus one?”

“Ramona!” Your friend introduces herself and you turn to look at her with confusion.

“Ramona?”

Seonghwa looks between the two of you and then at the man at the bar. Without even thinking, he leans between both of you to order himself a drink and then leans back as if he didn’t just enter your personal space and smell fucking heavenly.

Despite your friend giving a fake name for some reason, you decide to ask her about it later as you stand awkwardly with more skin showing to Seonghwa than you’d prefer he see. Sure, he said you look great, but he’s probably said that to every person here already.

“Ramona, y/n,” he says, grabbing his freshly made drink from the bar, “I need to go tell someone to get their date under control, so if you’ll excuse me,”

This is the first time you’ve seen Seonghwa look the way he does and act this casually despite still being semi-formal in tone.

With another roll of your eye at him the moment he turns his back, you watch him walk directly toward Mingi. You snicker. So, the woman is Mingi’s date and she appears to have found more of an interest in Seonghwa. That’s gonna be some fun drama to hear about on Monday. Anyway, back to your friend with the gaping mouth as she watches him walk away.

“If I, for one, had that man giving me orders, I wouldn’t be calling you to complain,”

“Oh? Ramona? Is that how you feel?” You glare for a moment but still smile a bit at her.

“I never give out my real name at clubs, especially not when they’re serving whiskey this strong–you already knew that though,”

You nod and turn to place both hands on her shoulders.

“Reminder that this is a corporate Christmas party,” you warn, “you can hit someone up, but do not fucking embarrass me.”

Her eyes are glued to something else before she trails her eyes back at you and smiles through a hefty sip of her drink with a nod.

“I’m not gonna be the one embarrassing anyone tonight, look at that,” she says, nodding into a corner.

Your eyes go to that very spot and see none other than Mingi scolding his date and her appearing to apologize profusely before pointing to Seonghwa and doing some hand motions that appear to be, well, sexual. You watch Mingi walk away from her with a huff, heading straight for the bar with a solemn look on his face.

“Act normal,” your friend instructs, raising her brows and already having a great time.

Mingi comes directly to you. Given, the two of you have often talked shit about Seonghwa and other co-workers together in the break room after closing hours when you’re stuck working over.

“Ridiculous,” Mingi grouches, pushing you gently to the side to get himself a drink.

“What happened?” You turn to lean over the counter with him, leaving your friend behind the two of you as you prod for the drama.

“I brought my friend who is in town for Christmas thinking we could like, catch up, but it looks like she’s more interested in embarrassing me by trying to fuck our boss–”

You snort and clap him on the shoulder.

“If it makes you feel any better, the party is a drag for me too.”

“Oh yeah? Why?” he turns to you as he grabs his drink, noting your outfit but forcing himself to keep his eyes away from your body.

You don’t even have an answer to his question but you smile at him and motion to the entire room.

“Fair.” He looks at you, and then scans the room for his date. “I’d better get back and make sure she’s not trying to get into his pants again,”

He appears to be defeated but you hope that glass in his hand can make up for the mishap.

How can a Christmas party with such strong drinks still end up being a fucking bore? You find yourself two hours into the party and sitting at a table with your friend, both of you scrolling through your phones as a bad song on the speakers is replaced with an even worse song.

“Do you wanna leave?” you ask, noting that the two of you have already chugged the airplane bottles in your bags after finishing the final free drink, yet the buzz is fucking dragging.

“Yep,” your friend admits, already locking her phone and standing up.

As you stand with her, the buzz hits you twice as hard and you’re immediately sitting back down.

“Woah, okay, maybe not,” you laugh, watching your best friend stumble back into her own seat with a laugh of her own.

“I’m like, I’m actually very drunk,” you giggle warmly, not realizing that the snacks offered do very little to soak up the alcohol in your stomach.

“Does this song suddenly sound really good to you?” She looks at you, bobbing her head.

“Yeah, actually–” You pause, looking at the section of the room where people are wobbling around and dancing with each other. “Kinda wanna dance.”

She nods with a smile, trying to stand up again as if she’s sober and clumsily grabbing your hand. The two of you make it to the dance floor in a blur, dancing the entire walk over to where the music becomes deafeningly loud and the bass appears to run through your veins. God, music sounds so fucking good when you’re drunk.

It’s almost like you are at a club, dancing, sweating, sighing out just to catch your breath as you move around with your friend in front of you, next to you, and sometimes behind you. You forget that all of the people surrounding you are those who see you hunched over a spreadsheet for sometimes twelve hours a day. You forget that they’re anything other than normal people who are desperately releasing their stress through alcohol at a party thrown by the very reason for the stress.

For a moment as you dance, you try to focus on those around you. The silence from everyone on the dance floor is mesmerizing as you glance at each face and realize their exhaustion matches your own, but they’re feeling the music in a way that is releasing. Never would you have imagined seeing Hongjoong drunk off of his ass, hanging an arm around a laughing Wooyoung’s shoulder as they attempt a dance move that you swear you’ve seen somewhere. Even Mingi appears to be less solemn now, towering over several dancing bodies and probably doing dome pop-lock-and-drop-it type move because he seems like the type to do it.

And then, the moment is ruined when your eyes land on Seonghwa, far behind the dance floor and leaning against the bar with his stupid messy hair and his stupid mean eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t be on the floor dancing and having a good time. Of course, he’s standing there judging the people he manages. Or rather, judging you. He’s glaring at you as you glare back at him before rolling your eyes and trying to get back into the groove of the now-changing song.

“This is way more fun than I thought it would be,” your friend admits, shimmying her body back and forth in front of you. “Which one of these dudes happens to be single?” She laughs, but you can tell it was only a half joke.

“Yunho,” You go through a short list in your head, “Mingi is, but he and his date appear to be getting along again.”

She nods, taking notes in her head.

“What about Seonghwa?” She laughs at your silence.

“Probably. With the way he’s a fucking asshole and all–”

Your friend claps and immediately stops dancing.

“Great! I’m gonna go talk to him!”

Instantly you freeze, feeling frustrated at her attempts.

“Do not, I repeat, do not embarrass me.”

She waves you off as she backs herself off of the floor and winks at you. You immediately follow, trying to reach out and drag her back into your care to save yourself from having to deal with the same shit Mingi had to deal with.

“Ramona!” You shout her fake name as a warning, but it’s ignored as she closes in on Seonghwa and clumsily stands beside him as she starts talking.

You look at her, then at Seonghwa, and realize he was still watching you before he drags his eyes away and gives her one of the most insincere smiles you’ve ever seen.

After a good ten minutes of letting her shoot her shot against your warning, you decide to make your way over to either save your best friend or save your job by getting her away from him.

“Ramona, you should have some water,” you comment as you walk up and blatantly ignore your boss.

“Taken care of,” She smiles and wiggles her brows, swirling her cup of water in your face. “I don’t see why you think Seonghwa is so–”

You cut her off immediately, glancing at Seonghwa and the way his face falls into curiosity at her unfinished sentence.

“I think we should be heading out! Don’t mind her,” You wave him off, trying to pull her from the bar and as far away from your boss as you possibly can.

By the time you get outside of the room, preparing to drag her all the way down this hallway and out outside to call a ride for the two of you, you’re glaring at her. The music is still loud, and your ears are ringing a bit from the frustration.

“Why the fuck would you say anything like that in front of him?” You argue, watching her realize that she really was out of line.

“I wasn’t even thinking, god, I’m so sorry,” She says, already preparing to fall to her knees in an apology.

“You do realize he’s probably going to ask me what you meant, right? How am I supposed to explain that? You are not ever coming with me to a company event again.”

She pleads with her eyes, genuinely appearing sorry before her gaze shifts and she’s staring directly behind you.

“You can’t just try to fuck my boss and then throw me out to the wolves like that!”

“Hey, wait,” she tries to stop you, wanting to save whatever facade you have left in front of your boss.

“He’s going to think I talk shit about him!”

“You think I don’t know that my team talks shit about me?” A voice rings out from behind you, breaking whatever happy drunken state you had left and causing you to freeze on the spot.

You don’t turn around as your eyes fall to your quite possible ex-best-friend as the realization hits you. You’re already lying down in the hole that’s been dug for you.

“Just an hour ago I heard Mingi tell his date that I’m not as nice as I seem.”

His voice sounds a little defeated as you finally try to force yourself to turn to him. Mostly because, if anything, if he knows that the majority of you talk shit, he can’t single you out, can he?

Except, he kind of is. You can’t imagine he would approach Mingi about it like he is to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you turn to face him, expecting a specific emotion to be on his face but feeling shocked that he looks fucking smug about it.

“I’m not going to pretend that everyone likes me, but I hope you’re all aware of the fact that I can’t be your friend in the office. I've got a boss too, and he’s not exactly fond of the way things have been going lately.”

You know that. You are more than aware that every employee has a boss, and every boss has a boss, and every boss’s boss has a boss. You happen to be almost at the bottom of that chain though, and it is hard at times to imagine someone like Seonghwa feeling the same stress that he makes you feel.

“This party was meant for us to unwind, even me. Why do you think the CEOs aren’t here?” He laughs, wondering if you’re too drunk for him to be this forward with you. “I paid for this party with my money, they don’t even know we are having it right now.”

Interesting.

“So, I think you should stay.” He finishes, looking at you as if he has all the confidence in the world knowing that the majority of the people at this party dislike him.

“I also think we should stay,” Your friend pipes in from behind you, poking her head out from your shoulder.

Without even answering, Seonghwa turns to wave the two of you back to the party with a smile that is…more sincere than you’ve ever seen. Maybe he isn’t so bad. Before your friend can usher you past him though, he’s tapping your shoulder and giving you a concerned look.

“Can I actually speak with you alone?” He asks, his face appears more genuine than you’ve ever seen it before.

Your friend turns to look at you, motioning for you to come with her but you look back at Seonghwa and shrug before following him down the hall and outside.

What you were expecting when you stepped out of those doors with your boss was a more in-depth review of how you’re acting. You thought he would break that somewhat genuine persona now that there’s no one around to listen, and he would give you a harsh warning to not defame his character at a party that he paid for.

No, no, no. It appears he has a different motive. One that threw you for a loop. One that made you wonder if you were on a hidden camera show, one that caused interest to replace disdain. You were not expecting him to stumble through his words at you, nor were you expecting him to admit that he’s nervous to be bringing it up at all. Seeing your boss break character was something to remember, but you forgot all about it the moment he laid out his proposal.

To put it bluntly, your boss wants to fuck, or rather, your boss wants you to fuck him. Never mind how you got to this point, and never mind the fact that he’s brought you back inside and given you at least eight glasses of water and two plates of snacks to sober you up with so he can present his offer again when you’re more aware of his words. Never mind the fact that your best friend just left with Yunho, and never fucking mind the fact that you’re more than willing to go home with him and pretend that Monday isn’t going to be awkward.

“Feel better?” Seonghwa asks, having not left your side since he spoke with you outside in the cold air.

It’s a strange kind of feeling, actually. After seeing two people shoot their shot at him, you find him by your side, not leaving you even for a moment. His stance appears to be that of an animal warding others from his prey and it’s kind of something you can’t think too hard about.

If you remind yourself that he’s your boss, you want to leave. If you think about how just this morning you wanted to see him tumble down the stairs of your office building, you almost laugh and agree with the image, but– if you don’t think about those things, you look at him and see a very attractive man with the need to be, what was it he said? Put in his place?

An insane image on its own. Your boss taking you outside just to propose a hookup, asking you bluntly to put him in his place? Telling you that you’re free to decline and that nothing would change at work, but that he thinks you’d be able to fulfill his desire of the night, especially with the way you look at him in such a frustrating way. He really came onto you like this, and with the way you accepted, it’s no wonder he’s so fucking confident.

“Much better,” you respond, looking toward the door and watching the way people start to leave. “You really know how to sober a person up,”

“Is that one of your famous insults toward me?” Seonghwa laughs, shifting his posture and leaning against you a bit, close enough to where you can hear him whisper, “You can be meaner about it, you know?”

You can tell, even with his close proximity to you, that he’s trying to appear to be in a simple conversation with his staff. To anyone else, it wouldn’t appear strange or weird to find you standing next to your boss. Several times tonight, even those who hate him as much as you do were found next to him, speaking as if they aren’t going to talk shit Monday morning in the break room before he shows up two hours late.

“So, you’re really into that sort of thing?” You look at him, his gaze equally as evil as it usually is, except this time you realize the thoughts behind that gaze. All day, every day during the week, he looks at you like this. Never have you seen him do it to someone else. You thought it was because he hated you and wanted to make your working life a living hell.

“I am, and I do not usually offer myself to someone I work with,” he leans away, processing the fact that he’s actually never proposed this with a person at his office. Better yet, a person who is under his management. It’s dangerous, and it’s probably stupid, but since the moment he hired you he’s wanted you.

His interest in you only grew the more you’d roll your eyes at him, the more he’d catch your hushed insults about him, the more you’d groan after he would leave your space thinking he was out of earshot.

“Oh yeah?” You ask for confirmation, “why are you approaching me with it then?”

He looks at you with a smirk and you watch as his eyes trail down your body for a few moments before meeting your eye again.

“You’re my type,” he admits, “and I don’t come across my type often.”

“Do you often single out your type and make them feel as if they’re not capable?” You counter, testing the waters.

“Yes.”

As strange as it felt leaving your car behind (despite that kind of being a given whether you went home or not), getting into Seonghwa’s car felt far weirder to you. The sleek paint job matches the suits he cycles through day by day. Having your shoes on makes you feel like you’re dirtying up his floorboards, and you feel like if you move too much the car will eject you out of itself based on how not-rich you appear to be.

“You’re sure you want this?” Seonghwa buckles himself in, placing a hand on the steering wheel and looking straight at the keyhole shape on your top. “I can drive you home if you decide you don’t want to.”

Seeing him blatantly checking you out like this is a new sort of experience. Those eyes are doing the same thing that you’ve grown to hate except now you’re excited to feel them on you. The stoic boss who intimidates others through a single look alone is now sitting next to you in his car, broken out of his work-day demeanor and staring at you as if you don’t work for him at all.

“I’d just end up inviting you inside,” you admit, your eyes now trailing down his body and stopping between his legs.

His smile is mischievous when he realizes that you’re checking him out too, and he trails his eyes down his own body to see what you’re looking at. He shifts a bit to spread his legs further before looking back at you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, intentionally twitching in his pants before reaching his hand over to your cheek. “there’s nothing you can’t do when you look at me like that.”

You’re taken aback by how blatant and blunt he is. From asking you at all to now knowing he doesn’t have to think too hard about it. You wonder if you’ll still hate him after tonight. There was very little small talk at all, he really went straight to the point of fucking the moment he got you alone.

“Maybe you’ll take my word for it next time I’m trying to work and you interrupt me then?” You playfully argue, feeling him pull his hand back and place it on his keys to start the car.

“Oh no,” he coos, now turning to look behind him to back out. “I might trust you to fuck me, but you’re not going to get the chance to submit this project without me looking at every word, number, and punctuation mark.”

You nod, feeling warm at the way he somehow slips dirty talk into business casual talk. You say nothing as he backs the car out and begins to slowly drive out and away from all of the familiar faces waiting for their ride and cars to be delivered to them. Instead, you find yourself watching him navigate his car. So used to seeing him stalk around the office, even more used to seeing him type against your keyboard to fix your mistakes– he’s much more attractive when he’s not under the morgue lighting of the office. Much more attractive sitting in that seat next to you, eyes focused on the road rather than looking at you.

“You’re staring,” he breaks the silence, glancing over to you as he reaches a red light. “I’m gonna need you to hate me for a little longer before you decide you like me,”

You look away from him this time, shaking your head.

The red light illuminates your face through the windshield as he now shamelessly looks at you again, knowing that once the light illuminates a different color on your cheeks, he can look away and contain himself.

“I’m staring too,” he admits, willing the red light to last for a bit longer so that he can see the way you react. “You don’t seem familiar with being brought home with a man,”

You turn to look at him again, this time offended that he appears to believe you don’t get fucked on the regular. Well, he’s not entirely wrong and most of the time you’re just being fucked at your job with deadlines and stress.

“I am very familiar with a man driving me home, just not familiar with you being that man,”

Seonghwa nods, the green light now shining against your cheeks and forcing him to look away.

“Not something many people could get used to, I imagine,” Seonghwa pauses, going in loops in his head over how you intend to navigate the night with him. “Then again, it’s not every day that a woman gets to put her boss in his place.”

Your mouth falls open at his words and how casually he says it, you’re constantly being hit with the reality of why you’re in this car.

“I’ve never done this before, you know?” You admit, feeling a bit nervous over the fact that the man who dominates the office wants you to dominate him.

“I’ll talk you through it, don’t worry,” he explains, twitching in his pants at the idea of him asking you to do something and then you actually doing it. “Have you ever made a man cry before?”

“Not in the way you’re expecting,” you laugh, trying to joke your way through the unfamiliar territory with him.

“I’m expecting a lot from you,” he smiles, eyes still on the road. “Besides, I’ve been told that I look good when I cry and beg.”

Jesus fucking christ.

You’re truly far too sober right now as you step through the door of his pretty house, the marble floors sparkle when he flips the light switch, and the echo in the room of your shoes tapping against the floor is drastically different from the laminate floors of your apartment. His walls are pristine, not a crooked painting in sight, his curtains look more comfortable than the blankets you cuddle up with at home, and fuck, the way he fits right in. His house matches him so well, it’s almost laughable.

“Yeah, I can see it,” you say, looking around the spacious room before slipping your shoes off and trying to avoid the way he’s looking at you.

“See what?” He asks, amused at the way you’re reacting to his home.

“This is definitely your house, and you definitely paid for that party.”

He chuckles, walking around a counter space and running his fingers through his hair before leaning forward against it.

“I’m not really in the mood to talk about myself right now,” he opens his eyes again and there’s that glaring look again. “I’d prefer it if we get straight to the point.”

You swallow hard, walking up to the other side of the counter and looking at him. You’re officially as nervous as you possibly could be in this situation.

“I will only direct you when you aren’t sure of what to do,” he smiles, wanting so badly to live out the fantasy that he often finds himself falling into when he looks at you. “Look around, find the room you want to fuck me in.”

God, he’s so fucking blunt about it. Almost demanding despite admitting to wanting to be demanded himself. Not only is it weirdly sexy when he says it, but it still instills a huge amount of anxiety in your body over the fact that you’re going to have to analyze a room for sex and then trot back out here and tell him which one.

You take a few moments to contain yourself before you nod awkwardly and start walking around his spacious and silent home.

“Can you like, play some music or something?” You turn to ask, and he nods.

As you’re walking down a hallway, you can imagine yourself getting lost in this house. The music softly comes from every corner of every room as you begin your search as well. You’re thankful that no room in his home has to remain silent with the sound system that must have cost a fortune. It calms you as you stop at a door and open it.

“No,” you immediately say, stepping back and ignoring the fact that Seonghwa has a fucking hot tub in his bathroom.

You continue up a set of stairs and look around for a moment. You feel like you’re taking too long as you begin to peek into each of the rooms on this level. How the fuck are you expected to pick a room when the only room you’ve ever been fucked in is a bedroom or a living room? Seonghwa is so fucking weird.

Finally, with all of the bedrooms appearing to be fit for a king that wants to be sexually dominated, you settle on the one that has the window facing the moon. So, you make your way back downstairs, feeling your brain count down your demise the closer you get to him.

“The room with the really big windows,” you immediately say in a nonchalant way when you get back to him, feeling small.

“Oh yeah? Why?” He asks, stepping away from the counter he had been patiently waiting for you at.

You expected that he wanted you to name the room, but you didn’t exactly prepare a reason as to why you wanted to fuck him in the specific room.

“Um,” you pause, shocked at his question. “The moon looks nice I guess?”

He hums.

“You’re expected to be looking at me, babe, not the moon.”

Babe?! Never has he called you by anything other than your name until now, it’s making your heart jump.

“Ah, well,” you shift your weight to your other leg and shrug, “Do you have any suggestions then?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle, walking up to you and ushering you backward.

“From this moment forward, I am suggesting nothing but how to touch me,” he says as he begins to undo each button on his shirt. “take me to the room.” He adds, slipping his shirt out of his pants and reaching for his belt.

You’re still stumbling backward as you watch him undress. He really jumps right into it then?

Your eyes are stuck as your pupils begin to widen at the image of him walking you backward. No longer does he feel like your boss, this is someone else, this is someone you want. He appears so ready, willing, and determined at this moment too, so you try to match energy.

Confidence coming back far too quickly to realize, you turn and lead him to the room you’ve chosen and for some odd reason, it feels easy to eye-fuck him each time you look back at him on your way to the room. Still, you don’t know how to go about this or how to fuck him the way he wants you to but god damn are you willing to try.

He stands before you inside of the chosen room, an untucked shirt that is also unbuttoned, buckle hanging open from the loops of his pants, eyes equally as blown as yours as he licks against his lips and awaits your instruction.

“Do whatever you want,” he encourages you, dipping his head down to where he’s a mere inch from your face. “Kiss me, hurt me, fuck me, whatever you want.”

You’re not sure if you will ever be able to get used to Seonghwa saying things like these, especially when they’re directed at you. It’s so fucking intimidating and entirely too arousing for you to comprehend within this short span of a single night.

Looking at him, he must be able to see the shock on your face at his words, and he softens his gaze a bit with a smile.

“Relax, don’t think of me as your boss right now–”

You pause again because the only reason you’re doing this is because he’s your boss and he just offered himself to you in the midst of a company party that he paid for.

“I’d prefer if I did think of you as my boss,”

“I won’t be bossing you around though,” he counters before the realization hits him. “Oh, so you are on the same page?” he smirks when you look down at the floor.

You nod before taking in a sharp breath and pulling him by his open collar, leading him to the floor just before reaching the bed. A little shocked still at how easy it is when you just do it, you do your best to stay calm and push back that nervous energy growing inside of you.

He chuckles a bit at the harsh pull against his collar before falling to his knees at the spot you lead him to and he looks up at you and on instinct as he reaches between his legs, ready to pull himself out of his pants like he’s so used to doing when a woman has him in this position.

Looking down at him, you think you like him at this angle, and there’s that confidence again. You’re sick of this push and pull of your nervousness so you really try this time to let go and just– fucking do what you very clearly want to do.

You step beside him and place yourself on the edge of the bed beside him and he watches you do it, turning his body so that he’s now sitting on the floor in front of you. Again, you try not to think when you awkwardly reach under your skirt and slip your panties down your legs, keeping them together so that he can’t see beneath the fabric.

He tilts his head as he watches the panties slide down your legs before reaching both hands out to your knees.

“I would have done that for you,” he comments, looking at the way your panties drop to the floor between the two of you and preventing himself from snatching them up to keep for his own personal reasons.

You’re starting to catch on. He did tell you what he’s into and so far, the only thing you’ve done was bring him to this room and sit him on the floor. Given, through those two actions your attraction towards him has surpassed what you’ve ever felt towards another man willing to get his cock out.

“What else would you do for me?” You ask, tilting your head and testing the waters.

“Anything,” he responds, attempting to move your legs open in front of him, “anything you want, just tell me.”

His voice is soft at that moment and it has you feeling a way that is somehow more unexpected than anything else. This is your chance to take out your frustrations through pleasure and it’s not like you’ve never done this before at least.

Without a word, you gently reach to his hair, watching him sigh at the contact of your gentle fingers running through the strands, and then you grip his hair from the back and pull him forward. You spread your legs as you do it, skirt easily rolling up your thighs.

The fucking moan he lets out when you do that is pornographic, and it’s like he knows exactly what to do when he’s got his face so close to your heat. He’s already got his tongue out when you guide it straight to your clit, pressing his head closer to you to apply more pressure.

You watch as his hands slip from your legs and go somewhere unseen, but you’re very aware of where they end up when you hear him unzip his pants.

“Don’t touch yourself,” You attempt to demand, pulling his head back and looking at his face. “We've only just started.”

He’s already gone, you can tell by the look in his eye that something inside of him switched the moment you grabbed him and pulled him between your legs. He doesn’t nod, he doesn’t say anything as he looks up at you like you’re some sort of goddess. It’s insane, really, seeing him like this. Having such a rich and intimidating man looking at you like this could become addicting if you think too hard about it.

His hands come back to your legs after that, attempting to grip you as you grant him access to your clit again. He whines against your clit while you use him and you feel like you have so much power over him right now. You could say that you’re enjoying it a bit too much, enough to confidently start rolling your hips against his tongue, and strangely enough to pull his head back yet again and make him watch your pussy pulse at the loss of pleasure.

Seonghwa tries to lean forward again immediately upon seeing it, wanting to grant your aching heat his tongue once again but you hold him back, spreading your legs more to the point that your skirt acts as an annoyance by this point and he still doesn’t look away.

“I didn’t expect you to be so needy.” You comment, still rolling your hips just out of reach from his mouth. “You’re really just going to listen to everything I say?”

His eyes roll up to meet yours with a nod, his lips glistening and his eyes shining from the moon.

“Yes.”

You laugh at the power being given to you.

“Seonghwa, I genuinely cannot believe you piss people off just to have something to jerk off to later–”

You let go of his hair by this point, allowing him to immediately attach his lips back to your clit, this time though, his tongue frantically splits you open as he trails his mouth down. He appears to be a man who wants nothing more than to pleasure the woman in front of him as his tongue tastes each fold with intent. He groans all the while before reaching his hand up and spreading your pussy with two fingers just to pull back and look directly at the hole he’s so badly wanted to fuck.

“I only do that to you,” he finally admits with a sigh, leaning in to lick around your clenching hole and rolling his eyes to look up at you.

“Do you like it when I insult you?” You laugh, jolting at the use of his tongue and trying your damnedest not to react too much to it. Goddamn, does he know how to work the muscle though.

“Yes,” he pulls back with a breath, licking his lips and closing his eyes with a face of pleasure, “you’re so fucking sexy when you do.”

You think back to all the times you’ve insulted him but you can’t recall a time where you think you’ve actually been caught doing it.

“Have you been listening to the things I say about you?”

He smirks from between your legs with a nod before flicking his tongue at you.

Again, never could you have imagined your boss calling you babe or even saying that you’re sexy, but he’s right there with his tongue out between your legs, and he’s definitely said both of those things to you already.

“You can do better than that,” you try to insult him as goes back to lick up the wet that drips out of you like a hungry animal, closing your legs around his head as if to threaten that he will have to stop.

Seonghwa knows he can do better than this, then again, he knows you can be more mean than this too. He wants to make you feel good, yes, but he wants you to hate that it’s him who can do it. He wants you to go all out, slap him, pull his hair, sit on his face, choke him, make him cry.

He moans out from between your legs at all of the things he’s willing to let you do, this time tucking his tongue inside of you as deep as it can go. You said he can do better, and luckily for you, he hadn’t been using the full length of his tongue just yet.

“Can’t believe you’re already so wet for me,” he compliments you as he pulls back to breathe for a moment, “put your hands back in my hair, pull it–stop letting me breathe.”

Your mouth falls open at his words because honestly, you’ve only just recovered from feeling his tongue pry you open, but you don’t protest. He did say he was going to tell you how to touch him, but you didn’t quite expect it to be this way.

Despite him technically instructing you, much like he would at the office, this task is much easier to run with on your own as you slip your fingers back into his hair and pull a bit harder than you did originally. When he attempts to move his mouth back to your clit, you hold his head in place and look down at him. Your breath is caught in your throat at the way he smiles at the grip in his hair, and god, he looks so fucking good with his tongue buried in a pussy that you genuinely can’t help to grab his hair with your other hand as well.

He groans at that, stiffening his tongue and allowing you to hold his head in place as you roll your hips against it, essentially treating his mouth as if it were a stationary toy stuck against your bedroom wall.

Seonghwa knew you’d be good at this, even if you need a little encouragement. The best part is that you’re not letting up and that you’re losing yourself to the pleasure between your legs. He’s running out of breath, his nose bumping against your clit each time you grind forward against his face– the mixture of your slick and his saliva ultimately plugging his airways and allowing his face to start going red.

Your eyes are closed by now as you throw your head back and grip his hair harder. Only when you’re close to climax do you pull a hand back from his hair and start rubbing your own clit. When you open your eyes to see him again, you note the color of his cheeks are a deep red but god, you’re so close. If you could just–

His grip against your legs gets tight as your body releases the tension, his tongue still tasting the walls inside of you as you gush out a wave of hot slick for him to swallow up with pleasure, and he does, despite having no air to breathe. When you release his hair as you release, you can feel him shift– keeping his tongue inside of you for a few moments before shoving your hand away and moving his tongue to your clit. Stroking against you so quickly with the flicks of his tongue, you can feel his fingers scooping up the rest of the mess coming out of you before you finally relax and fall back against the bed.

Well, fuck.

Without a second to lose, despite being out of breath yourself, you’re reeling from the post-orgasm brain and he looks so fucking good right now, mouth coated in your juices that you hesitate very little when you speak.

“Lay down on the bed.”

Instantly he does, lying himself down, his cock pressing so heavily against his pants that you feel bad that he hasn’t been able to get any pleasure yet.

“Let me see you touch yourself.”

Seonghwa smirks as he sees the confidence grow inside of you. This is exactly what he wants from you. He wants you to watch him, he wants you to be just out of reach, teasing him and mocking him for wanting you as badly as he does. Most of all, he wants to see your eyes go dark at his ability to suffer for you.

He looks down at himself and the way his cock strains against one of the nicer pairs of pants he owns, and then he looks at you and licks his lips just to taste you again.

You watch his entire body shiver the moment he places his palm against his bulge, grabbing and adjusting himself over his pants before his eyes squeeze shut before falling to you.

“Go on,” you instruct, lifting your top off of you and finally ridding yourself of the skirt that sits around your waist.

He wastes no time as he watches you undress, each expanse of new skin he sees causes his hand to press harder against himself. You can hear the drag of the fabric against his palm too, offering him a pleasure that is likely more painful than anything, but he’s still moaning like he loves it.

You study the way his hand moves and you take note of when his body tenses and he releases a sweet sigh of pleasure. You want to know how he likes it specifically so you don’t give it to him.

When you’re fully undressed and no longer feeling awkward, considering you just came against his tongue, you sit between his legs and lean back, spreading your legs to give him something more to look at.

The sound of fabric rubbing against him becomes more intense at that point, and his eyes stay only on your pussy as he does it. He lifts his head, straining his neck to get a better view of it.

“Don’t let me come too fast,” he groans, knowing for a fact that he could come right here, right now if you tell him to.

“You’ll come when I say you can,” you smile, almost mesmerized by the way his hips press up and into his palm with a choked-out sob.

“And you say you’ve never done this before?” he lets out a small laugh before rolling his eyes back at the way your pussy pulses before him.

You can see him try to not lose himself completely in order to encourage you and tell you what to do if you need it.

“I watch porn, you know,” you say, trailing your fingers down to your chest and running them over your aroused nipples.

Seonghwa watches you like a wild animal, his mind reeling with what you must look like watching porn and fucking yourself. He’s jealous of your fingers and of any man that’s ever gotten between your legs. His length is aching by this point as his body lets out yet another shiver.

You watch for a few moments longer before noticing that he genuinely appears to be working himself up to orgasm like this. You shift forward and grab his wrist, stopping his hand from granting himself the pressure he appears to need so badly. He watches you, hips chasing his hand as you move it up and place it directly at your core.

“That’s enough for you,” you say, watching his brows knit together and then fall to relief when you gasp at the way he flicks your clit in a rough, frantic type of way.

He listens too well, especially when you lean back on your arms and thrust your hips up toward him. You’re right there, spread out between his legs, displaying yourself in such a shameless way that he can’t help but slide his fingers down and instantly into you.

Your body jolts a bit at that, but the way his fingers slide against your walls has you looking directly into his eyes with the blown pupils he now decides that he’s obsessed with. His cock is in front of you, and when you press forward a bit with your hips, you can see his wrist rub against himself and he groans each time he does it.

His fingers still appear to focus on you though, with the way you feel him searching for the spot inside of you each time he curls his fingers up. Finally, you moan for him and he moans immediately after in response to it.

His cock is making an attempt to stand at attention but is still restricted by his pants, you can see the pre-cum soaking him almost entirely by this point and you fucking love it. You scoot further up, holding his wrist and keeping his hand in place as you sit against his thighs this time, bumping his bulge yourself when you pull his fingers out of you and place them against his lips.

“Lick,” you demand, watching his tongue wrap around the tip of one of his fingers as he sucks it into his mouth.

Honestly, the way he’s still giving you that same lusty glare as before, it’s got you nearly falling apart at the loss of his fingers even though it was entirely your fault. He acts like he loves it too, humming around his fingers before letting them fall from his lips as you grind up again against the bottom half of his length.

You don’t have a lot of patience at this moment, unfortunately. Again, this is new for you and you can’t imagine waiting much longer to at least see his cock, if anything to see him tear up at a new sensation that isn’t his pants.

You break eye contact and move forward, sitting directly against his bulge and letting out a sigh of how fucking hard it is under you before sliding back harshly and frantically pulling yourself up to rid him of his pants.

He’s a bit shocked at how fast you move, and a bit disappointed that you’re already preparing to jump his bones without at least an hour of foreplay and edging, but he’s already melted for you and will do anything you want. He even chuckles a bit when you stare directly at his raging cock before you after taking off his pants. Part of him thinks you might even take it into your mouth with the way you’re looking at it. He twitches his cock at you, a crooked smile appearing across his face before he’s getting the air knocked out of him.

You sit directly on it, sliding against his length while holding your breath and essentially nuzzling it between your glistening folds. He can feel your hole pulse against the underside of his cock and it’s making him fucking feral for you.

His mouth is open in a silent moan, hands gripping your waist and toes curling at the heat surrounding him before he’s finally opening his eyes to look at you.

“You mentioned someone telling you that you look pretty when you beg, why haven’t you begged for me yet?” You ask, appearing to be completely composed, perched with his length being coated by your slick between your legs.

“Because you’re giving me everything I want.”

You take a moment to think. Damn.

As quickly as you grant him the pleasure, you take it away as you slide off of his length and hover over him instead, pushing his opened shirt to the side and roughly pinching his nipples. You’re not sure if he’s into this, but he said you could do anything, so.

“I will do nothing but this until you beg, then,”

You watch his eyes roll at the feeling of your soft fingers attempting to abuse his chest and he could probably go insane for you at this moment. He’s been played with this way before, but never do women focus on his nipples like this, they prefer he play with theirs.

He writhes at the sensations and you wonder if having the nubs played with shoots a pleasure through his body much like it does yours. He appears to be slightly lost in his thoughts while you do it too, you can feel his pre-cum practically pouring out when he writhes and the head hits your thigh.

Seonghwa looks kind of beautiful like this. Little beads of sweat form on his forehead as he tries to contain his body at nothing more than harsh pinches and rubs against his nipples. You continue to watch him fall apart, almost amazed that such a sensation can have him looking like he’s already got his cock buried into someone, you finally let yourself sit again.

“Still not going to prove to me how pretty you look when you beg?” You ask, rolling your hips and once again burying his cock between your lips.

He groans, knowing full well that he can cum from nipple stimulation alone, but now you’re sitting on him again and it’s like, damn.

“Choke me,” he grunts, trying to press his cock through your folds in a sharp thrust upwards.

“Hm?” you coo, lifting slightly so he loses the sensation again.

“Choke me,” he asks again, and then again.

“You’re asking, not begging,”

His hips continue to chase the warmth of your bare pussy just out of reach as he smirks at your words. You’re right, and he is so, so willing to beg you at this moment.

“Please, choke me if you’re going to sit on my cock like this–” he pauses, “I want you to choke me and sit harder, please.”

Satisfied though not entirely sold considering he looks pretty with or without begging, you do sit down again, this time harder and trying not to sigh out at the way he nods frantically with a moan. Experimentally, you place your hand around his neck and lean forward, licking his bottom lip.

You see him shiver again at the feeling of your soft hands around his neck. His hips now stay in place as his hands reach for your hips and make an attempt to hold you down against him, almost as if he’s trying to suffocate his own length with your lips.

“Tighter,” he groans, now moving his hips in short thrusts into the tight heat the two of your bodies have managed to create.

You listen, though you’ve never really choked another person before, you figure he would tell you if you’re doing it wrong. Squeezing tighter, wondering if you should use both hands to do this, you groan at the feeling of the head of his cock bumping your clit as he moves beneath you.

He doesn’t appear to be straining at all, and perhaps you’re doing it incorrectly. You figure you are when he releases a hand from your hip and envelops your own, pressing your hand harder against his throat as a crooked smile plays at his lips.

“Like this,” he winces, flexing his abdomen and tightening his core at the feeling of his breath being restricted. “I can come like this–” he chokes out, releasing his tightened muscles and allowing himself to spiral into a pool of pleasure at how wet you’ve gotten for him. The slide of his cock is so easy, it’s so smooth and slippery on him that he barely has to move now.

“You’re not going to, though,” you smile, trying to tighten your grip more against his neck and watching the way his plush lips fall slack.

It must appear silly. You’re just sitting on him completely bare, and him mostly bare. There’s barely any movement between the two of you and he still seems to be having a hell of a time as you hold his throat and talk to him. You can feel his body tense and release every few seconds, and his adam's apple bobs under your palm every few seconds as he somehow keeps his composure through this.

Momentarily, you do bring another hand up to his neck, this time sliding yourself up his length before pressing back again. He can’t even groan at this point but you can see him try. His pulse quickens under your fingers and you watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and tenses his body against you.

Seonghwa knows he’s in for it, because he’s most definitely about to come and he can’t even tell you that. He’s usually great at preventing it, but with you so focused on keeping his breathing restricted while lazily grinding yourself down on him? Maybe he doesn’t want to listen this time.

You note his lips curl up and you instantly release his throat, his face only going slightly more pink than it was before you grabbed him by the throat and his hand instantly tries to force your hands back against his pulse.

“No, keep going, i’m gonna–”

You pull back immediately and watch him even out his breathing before groaning in frustration at you. Now, he’s looking at you like he will beg and to be fair, they were right. He does somehow look more pretty like this, with a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

You pay no mind to it despite burning the image into your brain and pulling yourself back before, without warning (again), you grab his length and sink down until your ass meets his thighs. He is already out of air again, feeling your pussy adjust to him and clench around him, essentially jerking him off better than he does himself.

Struggling yourself not to wince at how full you suddenly feel, you try to focus on the way he whines when you place your hand back around his throat. He’s twitching inside of you and trying to fuck into you as soon as you do it, but he is unable to as you squeeze tighter around his neck as a warning. You are far more comfortable doing it now.

“Do not fuck me,” you warn, seeing his hand slide across the comforter and clutch it until his knuckles are while.

He groans more when you clench around him, teasing his aching cock with the inability to fuck you the way he so desperately wants to. He tries to buck up just a little bit this time.

“Seonghwa, do not fuck me,” you repeat, tightening your walls around him once again and listening to the sob he lets out in response.

His mouth falls slack and his eyebrows knit together, the beads of sweat on his forehead dampening his messy hair as you cockwarm him until, hopefully, he cries.

Seonghwa does as you say though, stilling his hips as he finally opens his eyes in a daze and looks at you. His hands release the comforter at this point, shooting to your hips as he looks down at snugly you’ve managed to tuck him inside of you.

“You like being fucked like you’re hated?” You ask, slightly releasing the tight grip around his neck and chuckling at the way you can see him try to control himself.

If you truly hated him though, you wouldn’t be doing this to him, but also– you imagine that if you were going to fuck someone like you hate them, you’d make them suffer much like this. Taking away their ability to fuck you despite the fact that they’re already inside of you.

“You don’t hate me,” he counters smugly but still with a shaking and pathetic sounding voice, “not with the way you’re drenching my cock like you own it.”

You grip tighter at his neck and clench your pussy around him again, this time digging your ass against his tights and attempting to push him deeper into you.

“I do own it,”

“Yes, fuck, there you go–” he hisses out with a seething bite to his voice, now unable to stop himself from fucking his hips up and into you.

You squeeze his neck once again as a warning, and you even try to press his hips down against the mattress to keep him from doing so, but his strength appears to overpower your own and it’s becoming hard to stop him anyway. Because you want it, and you want him so bad at this moment to absolutely fucking ruin you until you’re the one begging. You removed your hands from his throat and move them to both sides of his face, forcing him to look directly as you as he fucks up at an uncontrollable pace.

There, you watch him fall apart beneath you until you finally see those tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. His pupils grow and shrink with each second, and the sound of his hips hitting your thighs almost creates a mantra in your head that you never could forget..but, you stop him.

“Do not fuck me, Seonghwa,” you warn for the last time and he fucking whimpers as he falls slack against the bed.

“I want to fuck you,” he groans, chewing against his bottom lip and letting those tears roll down his cheek, “let me make you feel good, please,”

“No.” You say, leaning down just an inch from his face before slipping yourself off of him and resuming the lazy grinds you’d granted him before. “Are you going to ask me to come in me, too?” you chuckle, watching him fall apart.

“God, please, yes–” he thinks hard about the image of his seed spilling out of you, the image so arousing that he feels the heat in his abdomen grow regardless of not being inside of you anymore.

“We’ll see,” you continue, sliding up his length before finally slipping him back into you. This time, you moan, and this time, you’re unable to stop yourself from moving your hips as you reach for his hand and place it against your clit.

All of this teasing is supposed to be for him, but you’re fucking suffering too. You’re actually a little shocked that you remained composed until now.

“Make me come again and we’ll talk,”

He’s eager to do just that, his bedroom eyes scanning your bouncing body as he somehow knows how to both rub your pussy and prevent himself from releasing into you at the same time. He does start to struggle when you start to clench from orgasm around him though, and he moans louder than you do when he sees you fall apart on top of him.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says angrily, wanting nothing more than to be the one dominating you at this moment, edging you, making you beg– “You look so good when you’re fucking yourself on me,” he continues through your orgasm, “keep making those pretty sounds, let me hear you.”

You do, riding him and feeling his fingers on you all the way up until his thighs are dripping with your wet and he’s left melting under you with arousal. He thinks he’d let you use him again and again if he can watch you do that again.

“You want to come in me?” You finally say, out of breath.

It’s like music to his ears as he nods frantically, his cock feeling neglected despite having been actively fucked.

“Then do it,” You say, sitting on him and refusing to move as your arousal continues to drip onto him.

He tries to move his hips but you mock him for it.

“No, come like this. If you want me so bad, if you want to come so bad, do it.”

Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate at all. You can see his eyes cross and roll to the back of his head just as you say that to him and for some reason, you feel a little bad about it. He’s so willing to come like this, so willing to let you leave this room as the satisfied one, so willing to control himself. Before you can grant him anything else though, his hands are on your waist and you realize that he’s literally already coming.

His silence alone should have told you that, with the way his cock is twitching and spilling into you non-stop since you said those words. Never have you seen a man come on command like that, and fuck, Seonghwa, what the fuck?

You rush to lean forward, leaning down as his cock stands idle inside of you as it continues to release, all the way until your tongue is flicking his nipple and his body jolts. You feel him fuck up this time, prolonging his orgasm as you kiss against his chest and leave a bruise or two against each nub until he’s managed to empty himself entirely into you.

Just as you think it’s over, he appears to have an uprise in energy as he flips you back and lets you fall against the bed, his head instantly sinking between your legs to lick his mess up before it spills out of you. Every last drop is what he wants, just so you can see that he can and will always be willing to do disgusting things for your pleasure.

By the time he’s done, he pulls back and looks at you with one of the most fucked out smiles you’ve ever seen on another person.

Though he already used his tongue to clean you up, he went the extra mile and left the room to grab supplies to further clean the two of you up, and only falters when your face appears to be back to normal. He’s unsure of where to go from here, considering you’re still part of his team and it’s unfortunate that there’s still the reality of everything to face.

“Do you want to stay?” He asks, the opened shirt that was never removed hanging from his shoulders as his own gaze falls into something soft and less hungry.

You don’t know how to answer, because, like, is it wrong to want to stay?

“You were so talkative while you were riding my dick, babe,” he chuckles, wondering if you can be as dominant in post-sex conversation as you are when you’re actively fucking.

“Would you feel better if I make all of the decisions now? Like what you’re used to me doing?”

You nod silently, wincing at the soreness between your legs despite doing more cock-warming than fucking.

“You’re spending the night, and I’ll have something for you to eat in the morning,” He wiggles his brows only for a second, now wondering if this will be a regular thing or not. “Actual food, I mean, but– y’know,”

He pauses to look at you as he speaks.

“I’m not against doing this with you again, just so you know.”

The smile that stretches across your face is relieving to him, especially when you nod and meet his eye without hesitation.

“Sorry if it wasn’t that good, I’ve really never done this before–” You go to apologize but he stops you.

“You did better than you think you did, if anything, you could be rougher,” he admits with a warm chuckle, running his hands through his fucked up hair. “I knew you were my type.”

You can’t help but contrast who Seonghwa is now versus who he was to you yesterday. Monday is going to be interesting. Which–wait.

“What’s going to happen on Monday?” You ask, feeling a bit of doubt about this whole arrangement.

“Right, about that,” He ticks his tongue before leaning back and lounging against the headboard. “Obviously we can’t let anyone find out. We both would be risking our jobs over this–”

Brain still half-horny, you wiggle your own brows at him and he looks at you curiously with a mischievous smile of his own.

“No,” he warns, holding his hands up and shaking his head. “We can’t sneak around at work. If anyone found out that I want you to, quite literally, gag me and slap me around–”

“Right, you wouldn’t be able to intimidate them anymore,”

You can’t help but feel special at this moment in this big room with the huge windows and moon shining in.

“Would you be against me at least, y’know, being inappropriate when it’s just us?”

Seonghwa studies you for a moment as he thinks to himself.

“Like I said before, there’s nothing you can’t do when you look at me like that.”

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