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girlygguk · 1 month ago

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WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

��Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips

2K notes · View notes

no-144444 · 1 month ago

Text

The Holidate (2020) - Lando Norris

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

8.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You stood outside your perfect family home, a cigarette in hand. “Fucking holidays,” you sighed. Quickly grabbing some tic tacs from your bag and putting out your cigarette. You covered your tracks and stood in front of the door, willing yourself not to run away. The house was the image of suburbia and the nuclear family bullshit you were used to, the shit you grew up with and believed until you realised that men weren’t shit and you had to go focus on a career if you wanted to live in Chicago.

“Happy holidays,” you faked a smile as you opened the door, your mother running up to you with a disappointed look.

“This is what you’re wearing to Christmas dinner? Don’t you own a dress?” you scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m great. Thanks for asking mom,” you sighed, following her into the house while taking off your coat.

“Y/n!” your sister, Abby, cheered. “You’re here!” She pulled you away from your mother, who was busy complaining about something or other, and brought you close. “Mike said you didn’t call him back.”

“Yeah, I didn’t,” you shrugged. She gave you a stern look. “What? I can’t date a professional clown! I’d never sleep again.”

“Well, you need to date someone! It’s been months,” she complained.

“Well, no one wants to date someone who lays around in their pyjamas all day,” your mother added.

“It’s called being a remote worker, mom, and, it’s not like my boss cares,” you scoffed.

“Are you smoking?” she asked, sniffing you feverishly.

“No mom, I’m not smoking,” you answered, your tone dry and robotic. You gently pushed her off.

“Because no man wants to marry a smoker,” she barked.

“Good thing I’m not smoking anymore,” you lied.

“No one wants to marry a smoker,” she instilled.

“But you-”

“A smoker who lies,” she added, knowing how you’d caught her out.

As the night went on, in came your brother and his girlfriend, your aunt (with a random guy she’d met the day before), and your brother-in-law with his gaggle of hell-spawn children.

You watched as the festivities played on, your aunt all over her new man, you sister battling with the drink in her hand while her husband battled their children from shitting in the manger again, and you brother being over-attentive to his girlfriend. Sometimes you pity them. They have to take care of someone all the time, they always have someone there for them, someone to come home to every night, someone to wake up beside every day, it must be exhausting.

You stood beside your aunt in the kitchen, escaping the happy couples and watching as her new boy gobbled at the food.

“Isn’t he great?” she giggled.

You grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m planning on marrying him, he’s just my holidate,” she brushed off your concern.

“A ‘holidate’?” you questioned.

“Yeah, a holidate, y’know a date solely for the holiday,” she explained it like it was the most normal and regular thing in the world. “No commitment.”

“Y/n, I have a friend who wants to meet you!” your brother, James, called from the other room. You rolled your eyes.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As you sat at the (kids) dinner table, you were busy getting relationship advice from your 8 year old niece. That had to be a new low. She had a boyfriend, and you didn’t. Could your life get more pathetic?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You all sat around in the living room, opening presents. Your sister got you pyjamas, two sizes too big. Your brother got you pyjamas, three sizes too big, and your parents got you, you guessed it!- pyjamas. At least those were the actual size. You faked as much enthusiasm as you could, and just smiled and nodded. How much worse could this Christmas get?

As you all finished up opening gifts, your brother stood up, taking Liz’s hand.

“Liz, I know it’s only been 3 months, and 6 incredible days, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of excitement.

“Yes!’ she cheered. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Your heart dropped. Your little brother was getting married before you. You were finally cemented as the pathetic sibling, forever.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Little did you know, that just a few blocks away, someone else was going through a harrowing Christmas date experience…

Lando walked up beside Mandy, a girl he’d just-so-happened to have met in a random club over the break. He hadn’t planned to come to Chicago, but he just-so-happened to have ended up there, on the basis of Quadrant meetings and deal negotiations being held there. He had gone on two dates with Mandy so far, one of them being the time they met in the club. He had no idea why he hadn’t just flown home to go see his family and siblings, maybe even see Mila and babysit for a while.

“Your parents know this is our third date, right?” he asked as they stood on the front porch.

“Of course they do!” she smiled brightly. “I’m not even sure I told them you were coming-”

His heart dropped as the door opened, and they immediately turned to him.

“Lando!” her mother cheered. “He’s even more handsome than in the pictures!”

“Pictures?” he mumbled, his face dropping. Obviously, he knew people were going to know who he was, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake. But something about the way she said pictures made his stomach drop, and he wasn’t sure if she meant pictures that Mandy had taken of him (he never posed for any), or the ones online. Something told him it was the first option, and he felt sick.

Then ensued a night of pure agony, he was buried in baby photos, old trophies, and a look into this random girls’ life. As he stood in her childhood bedroom, he truthfully asked himself. “Fuck am I?” and groaned when he was called down to dinner.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

After dinner, he went back up to Maisie’s room- or was her name Mandy? Anyways, to talk about the awful night.

“What is going on?” he questioned, whisper-shouting.

“My parents fucking love you,” she smirked, pressing her lips to his.

“What the fuck?” he asked again as she pushed him down on the bed, stripping herself.

“Come on, y’know you like me,” she smirked, a sultry look in her eye. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t.”

“I already explained that I’m here for business purposes and-”

She started kissing him, and he stopped caring about the strangeness of the situation when she started unzipping his trousers.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

He sat sandwiched between her parents, matching ugly Christmas sweater on, opening a box full of… swimming trunks?

“Swimming togs… thanks,” he faked as much enthusiasm as he could as they all nodded.

“They’re skin-tight too, since it makes you go faster in the water,” Mandy explained, a bright smile on her face.

“Togs, and a project, thanks,” he smiled, trying his best to charm his way out of it all.

She held out her hands, expecting a present from him and his heart stopped.

“Me next!” she cheered.

“You said we weren’t doing presents this year,” he said, feeling the eyes of her parents on him.

“Pardon?” she questioned, her eyes dangerous. “So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,”

He looked at her parents and shook his head as she continued. “But not well enough to get me a Christmas gift? Are you shitting me?”

“W-what-” he stuttered before getting up. “Y’know what,” he turned to her parents. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, happy Christmas,” he turned to her. “Maisie, don’t call me again!”

“Mandy,” she corrected, tears in her eyes. “It’s Mandy you asshole.”

“Great, Mandy, then,” he scoffed before starting to walk to the door, then he remembered the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing, and off it came. He threw it to Mandy, and walked out the door.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You stand behind some British guy (who you swear you know from somewhere) in the sluggish queue of a random men's department store.

Said British guy is busy fighting with the sales clerk to take his strange swimming togs back, and you’ve had enough of it.

“Hey, Cockney, we’ve all been waiting for ages, some of us have jobs,” you scoffed.

“I’m actually from Bristol,” he rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I don’t have a job.”

“You’re in the mall on a Wednesday,” quickly, you brought the two pairs of pyjamas that don’t fit you to the front. “I’d like to return these.”

“Hey!” he scoffed.

“Hey,” you smiled in return.

“I can only offer store credit,” the clerk smiled apologetically, and you sighed.

“Seriously?”

“Ha,” The Brit laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“And sir, I can only offer you store credit as well.”

“Ha!” you laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“I’ll give you 45 bucks for it all,” the girl behind you in line smiled at the both of you. “And this voucher for the pretzel stand.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked around the mall with the Brit, enjoying your pretzel.

“So, how was your holiday season?” you asked, making polite conversation.

“I spent my Christmas in an ugly Christmas sweater, a strange dinner, and being with people who I think might’ve been in a cult,” he nodded.

“Well, I'll take your ugly sweater, and raise you a seat at the kids table, my little brother getting engaged, and my mother constantly asking me to date one of her many friends' sons,” you listed. “You sure you don’t want any?” you offered him some pretzel.

“Do you know what that does to your body?” he asked.

“Oh,” you grimaced. “You’re one of those guys.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffed.

“It means you’re the kind of guy to take a billion vitamins a day and talks about your micros and macros,” you laughed. Then you caught sight of the guy your aunt brought to Christmas dinner. “Shit,” you cursed, hiding behind the Brit.

“What?” he laughed.

“You see the mall Santa over there?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas dinner, hide me,” you begged, and he walked on with you behind him, hiding you.

“Who is he anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t serious,” you chuckled. “He was her Holidate.”

“Holidate?” he questioned.

“It’s just a person you pick up to spend Christmas with,” you shrugged. “It’s dumb, I know.”

A light bulb went off in his head. “Just Christmas, or all holidays?”

“All of ‘em,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty genius when you actually think about it.”

“That’s exactly what I need for New Year’s, a Holidate!”

You chuckled. “Sorry, pretty sure my aunt is already booked up-”

“No, I’m serious, I am done casually dating on the holidays! I don’t want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting. I always end up being an asshole in some sort of way or-”

“Really? Try being the only single person left in your family, at the age of 24. My little brother, who's 21, by the way, is getting married,” you scoffed. “I mean every time I see them it is a fucking palaver of sad glances and exhausting small talk about one of their ‘friends’. Why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?”

“Because it’s obvious you’re not happy,” he said like it was obvious. “Was that a trick question?”

You sighed. “I am happy, thank you very much.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Look, humans are meant to be with other people on the holidays, it’s just a fact! We all need warmth… companionship,” he could sense the fact that he was losing you. “And someone to drunk-mock people at parties with!”

“I do enjoy drunk-mocking people,” you pondered.

“Perfect! We can be each other’s Holidate for New Year’s!”

You chuckled, walking on. “Funny, I don’t even know you.”

“That’s what makes it ideal! I don’t know you, you don’t know me! We aren’t expecting anything from each other, other than showing up to the date!”

“Sure…” you sighed.

“And we’d never sleep with each other as well, it’s a win-win.”

You frowned, a quizzitive look on your face. “Why wouldn’t we sleep together?” He looked you up and down and grimaced. “Christ, calm down with the flattery asshole.”

“Not like that, it’s just you’re not my type,” he explained quickly.

“Goodbye, or Cheerio, I guess. Since that’s what you say in Bristol,” you scoffed, walking off.

“Come on, it’d be perfect! No more sad glances, no more kids' table seats. I have tickets to the Skyfall party, and I need a plus one,” he explained, following you.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“That’s such a good party,” you sighed, knowing for the years you’d gone to it before.

“So say yes,” he smirked, knowing he was winning you over. “I just want to have a nice night and know that my date won’t go batshit if I don’t drop down on one knee at midnight with a ring with a quarter of a million pounds.”

“What makes you think I’m not batshit?” you smirked.

He smiled. “You’re not.”

You smiled back.

“I’m Lando, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n, here is my number,” he smiled, handing you his business card.

“Formula 1 driver and CEO,” you raised an eyebrow. “Do you drive for the orange team?”

“It’s papaya,” he rolled his eyes. “And yes, yes I do.”

“Don’t girls like… throw themselves at you?”

He sighed. “Those are usually the batshit ones.”

You nodded. “Right.”

“Just think about the party and text me,” he smiled.

“I won’t be texting you, I’m more of a RedBull girl myself,” you smirked, walking off.

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You sighed, thinking over the past new days. Your mom had tried (and failed) to get you to meet with her new neighbour, work was already beating you down, and you just needed some fun. Skyfall party it was.

Lando, it was.

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The party was already insane when you walked in, and you two fell into a steady rhythm of guessing peoples’ stories.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Your tits look amazing in that dress,” he smiled, and chuckled when you smiled. “This is great! I can say whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry whether you think I’m a classy guy or not.”

“I can wear a slutty dress without being slut-shamed, win-win,” you agreed.

As the night progressed, you found yourself slightly (*very much) drunk and sitting, talking about your awful love lives, and your deep-rooted hatred for the film Dirty Dancing.

“He’s such a dick to her the entire film, and she has absolutely no self-respect!” you argued.

“But isn’t it romantic or something-?”

“No! It's pathetic that she’s sold as this head-strong, interesting girl who falls for the first guy she sees at a goddamn summer camp for families, likes him the entire time even though he treats her like shit, then gets excited in the end when he finally gives her a chance, because he ‘grew to love her’. It’s bullshit!”

“So who ruined rom coms for you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“We’re not going there,” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink.

“I think we’re already here,” he smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Luc,” you answered.

“Christ, he sounds like a wanker,” he giggled.

“He wasn’t,” you sighed. “He was handsome, intelligent, French.”

Lando scoffed. “What happened?”

“We just… needed different things,” you explained. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays, he wanted to fuck a barista. It was a super mutual break-up,” you laughed. Lando didn’t.

“Shit,” Lando cursed. “Ouch.”

“Well, to be fair, he was too good-looking to be trustworthy,” you sighed. “My sister always says to date-down. Then you’ll never get hurt. I gotta piss, I’ll be right back,” you said, then off you went.

Lando watched as you left, his heart a little heavier than before.

In the bathroom, a bride-to-be (well, they were getting engaged tonight, one of the many people you and Lando had profiled) was sobbing over a dress and you had decided to be the good person and switch with her, taking her number so she could give the dress back after she got it dry cleaned.

You came back in a white ruffled dress with a very large red wine stain on it. You sighed. “Don’t even.”

“Did you get stabbed?” he chuckled. “Or is Carrie in now?”

“Shut up Lando,” you scoffed, dragging him onto the dance floor.

If Lando was a good charmer, he certainly was a good dancer. You two danced along to the fast-paced, pop songs, but then came the slow set at about 10:30. ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ started playing, the spotlight blaring down on you two as the chords played. Your face dropped and he giggled uncontrollably.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he cheekily smirked, taking your hand.

The dance floor cleared off, watching as you two somehow pulled off the jump, only for him to drop you, because he was giggling so hard.

“Nobody drops Baby on her head,” you reminded him as you two sat out of the dancing, trying to substitute your bruised egos (and bodies) with alcohol.

“I’m going to go take a piss,” he sighed, getting up.

Perfect timing. The countdown started just as he left, and you were left to watch all the happy couples french-kiss their way into the new year. You sighed. Had it been your worst date ever? No. Would you call him again? Probably not. You watched as people all around kissed and held the people they loved the most and you couldn’t help but feel… without. Sure, you liked how easy and painless being single was, but it was also lonely. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just feel lonely. It sucked.

Then, Lando came running back, an apology on his lips.

“Happy New Year Lando,” you smiled, not as enthused as earlier, but it would do.

“Happy New Year,” he nodded, still sorry about missing it. He awkwardly kissed your cheek and you just accepted it, hoping next year would be slightly (extremely) different.

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You two rode in the back of a cab, you looked out the window at the city going by, the streets you knew so well and-

“Tonight was fun,” he admitted. “I had a good time.”

“Not the worst night of my life,” you agreed.

“So… what are your Valentine’s plans?” he questioned.

“You mean the holiday that’s in two whole months?” you chuckled. He nodded. “I don’t know! I don’t have plans yet.”

“Great, let’s make some!” he smiled. You frowned. “Come on, after that I’ll be busy until the summer! Let’s just go to a movie or something.”

“A lot can happen in two months, Lando,” you explained. “And if I don’t meet the love of my life by then, I have a tradition of buying chocolate and eating it. Alone.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You can stay here then,” you scoffed. The taxi pulled up outside your apartment block, and back to your apartment you went, exhausted from the night. Happy New Year to you.

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“No Valentine’s day date? What?” Liz cried. Agreeing to go wedding planning with her was a bad choice, noted. You were stuck in a bright, flowery, overly-scented room shop of fabrics, designs, and glassware, all of the shit you never thought you’d have to care about.

“I’m not dying,” you sighed. “It’s a random Thursday where chocolate is either cheap and good, or expensive and good. I’ll enjoy a bath, and go to bed early. Sounds perfect to me.”

“You should call mom’s neighbour!” Liz suggested. “What’s his name?”

“No,” you sighed. “I am not going out with someone that my mother sets me up with.”

“But what about the wedding? You can’t be single at the wedding,” Liz sighed.

“You mean the wedding that’s 8 whole months away?”

“Exactly! What will you do?”

“I am more than happy to be single, I don’t have to share a bathroom, a bed, or a kitchen with a man,” you argued, and Liz nodded, kind of agreeing with your philosophy (your brother was a gross dude). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some chocolate to buy.”

As you walked to the chocolate shop in the mall, you couldn’t help but think of Lando. Maybe he’d gone off with some model, or some actress. Maybe he was in Ibiza right now partying the night away with his other famous friends. Or maybe he was right outside the shop, watching you see your ex and his fiance for the first time since the break up.

Fuck.

You stood, watching the two of them canoodle in front of you in line, and your heart sank slightly. Great. A model.

“Y/n?” Luc questioned, turning to you.

“Luc,” you faked as much enthusiasm as possible, just to keep your voice from breaking.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Good,” you smiled, trying to sound sure of yourself. “What about you?”

“Busy,” he chuckled. “Oh, this is Nicola, my fiancé!” He introduced you to the gorgeous woman next to him. She was basically you, same hair, eye colour, build, but if you put the tiktok beauty filter on you, and turned it up to 100.

“Fiancé?” you gawked, pretending to sound excited.

“Nicola,” she smiled, holding out her hand to be shaken. You took it shaking it.

“Hey baby,” Lando smiled, wrapping an arm around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, joining in beside you. “You get the stuff for the party?”

Luc and Nicola’s faces dropped in shock.

“Yeah, babe,” you played along. “This is Lando, my boyfriend,” you turned to the two of them, smiling.

“You didn’t tell me your college friends were in town,” he smiled. “How’s clowning going?”

You held back a laugh, realising you had told him the story of the couple you’d met in your 3 days of clown college. It wasn’t for you, hence not being able to call your sisters’ clown friend back about a second date.

“Oh, we’re not clowns,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Oh gosh!” Lando faked embarrassment quite well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“No, that’s alright,” Luc stopped him. “It’s lovely to you Lando-”

“Yeah, well, we’d better run, big plans tonight,” Lando interrupted, paying for your chocolate and taking your hand. “We have a flight to catch.”

“Where are you going?” Nicola questioned, but you were already being pulled out of the shop.

“Holy shit that was awful!” you cursed. “Why is it that the new girlfriend has to be younger and hotter?”

“Here, drink this to calm yourself,” he handed you his drink, and you took a sip.

Green juice, gross.

“God, I’m going to be sick,” you sighed, dramatically sitting on one of the mall benches.

“Well, usually the younger the girl, the less chance of commitment being an issue,” he explained. “Men think like that, at least, I think they do.”

“But you don’t?” you snarkily raised an eyebrow. He chuckled.

“I try not to,” he giggled. “And anyways, it’s kind of a compliment anyways.”

“You're right!” you cheered. “Nicola is a cry for help.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” you sighed. “Those Guinness truffle things are pretty strong. You want one?”

“No, I'm alright, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, you’re a professional athlete.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a joke,” he scoffed. “I am.”

“You’re just being a pussy,” you shrugged. “Real athletes enjoy chocolate. Ask Lewis Hamilton.”

“I can if you want me to,” he smirked.

“I trust that my favourite driver enjoys chocolate, thanks though.”

“Lewis is your favourite?” he scoffed, turning to you.

“I’m hardly going for the fucking papayas,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, if I wasn’t such a pussy, you would still be in a fucking sweet shop talking to your ex-boyfriend and his new fiancé,” he smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I owe you one.”

“I will take my hand job in the car park, thank you very much,” he chuckled, obviously laughing.

“A hand job?” you scoffed. “What are we? 15?”

“You were giving out hand jobs at 15?”

“Most of us weren’t 3 feet tall at age 15,” you teased.

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As the months went on, you blew through St. Patrick’s day and Easter, finding out about Lando’s heartbreak along the way. His ex-girlfriend Luisha and him had broken up over the simple reason of his fans hating her more than life itself. As the F1 season began, you stayed busy with work while he travelled and drove, and every now and then you’d text each other about your days, or call to catch up.

It was nice, having someone to talk to. Lando didn’t judge you the way your family or friends did. He liked you for you, and you tolerated him for him.

The night of Cinco De Mayo came around the corner, and you had invited Lando to come to a random bar and get fucked up together. He’d just won Miami the day before, and he was riding high. You two danced, drank, and sang the night away, eventually waking up in your apartment.

Waking up in your aparmtent, in only your bra and his boxers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, the bright light basically blinding you, as the hangiety and headache began.

“Morning,” his voice was groggy and deep. “I guess we…”

“No way,” you sighed, pushing yourself up off the floor- how did you get there? “There’s no way we would’ve… one of us would remember.”

“You can’t tell? You’re wearing my boxers, Y/n,” he smiled. “If we did it’s fine, right? We’re both adults, we can move past it.”

You grabbed your own panites from the floor beside you, and quickly hid behind a tall chair to change. “There’s no dried patch on my thigh, no wrapper on the floor, nothing hurts, I don’t feel strange,” you listed. “Can’t you tell?”

“I just feel like shit,” he sighed.

“Right, so we didn’t do it,” you offered.

“Let’s go with that,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

“Coffee?” you offered.

“Yeah, please,” he groaned, closing his eyes again.

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You two went through Mother’s Day (meeting his mom and pretending to be his girlfriend was terrifying, but you kept it together), and eventually you invited him to your yearly 4th of July party at your parents lake house, but he was too busy racing in Silverstone, so he invited you (and your family) to come to the race.

You watched as he sped down the main straight, full of anticipation. Right now, Oscar was in the lead for the WDC and McLaren was leading the WCC as they continued winning race after race. Lando really wanted this one though, he had to win his home race.

You’d really gotten into F1 in recent months, and you had started to actually enjoy the races, not just watch them because Lando was driving.

You watched as he sped down the main straight, rain pouring down, this was his final flying lap, the one that would put him over Oscar, up to pole position and-

He spun out.

“Fuck!” you shouted, shocked at the scene in front of you. The session was red flagged and everyone went back into the pits. While you watched, on the edge of your seat, as he was carried out of the car and put into a medical car.

You sprinted down to the garage, ready to see him. You couldn’t let him get hurt while you were there, that meant you were his bad luck charm or something. You couldn’t have that. You watched as he exited the medical car, right outside the McLaren garage, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out, looking mostly unharmed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking his hand. “You’re alright after that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe? I have to go get checked-”

“You need someone to go to the hospital with you,” Will interrupted. “We’re going to stay back and work on the data, you have someone?”

Lando looked at you with wide eyes. “Ummm-”

“He does,” you nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

He gave you an appreciative smile.

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“The doctor will be in shortly,” Maisie, his very annoyed nurse smiled as the both of you tried desperately to hold in your laughter.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and as she left the room you and him burst into laughter again. You weren’t even sure you knew what you were laughing about, but that was fine with the two of you.

In came… you mom’s neighbour?

“Faarouq?” you questioned. “You’re in England?”

“I volunteer here,” he explained. “Flew in to reconnect this guy's finger, and now I’m just staying a few extra days since they’re understaffed.”

“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s awesome.”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but he really was lovely. He was kind, he volunteered, he was a doctor. He was great.

Lando watched as you and he chatted and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He didn’t know why, but seeing you with him made him… something. He wasn’t sure.

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No issues, all healthy, might experience some neck pain. Clean bill of health.

You walked him up to his hotel room, his arm around your shoulder. You’d honestly had a brilliant day with Lando, the best 4th you’d ever had.

You lay him down in his bed, handing him a glass of water.

“Sorry for ruining your 4th,” he sighed. “You probably should’ve been with your family.”

You brushed it off. “Holidates should never leave a holidate behind,” you chuckled. “And anyways, it was a pretty fun day.”

You put a hand on his shoulder, assuring him of your answer, and he put his hand over yours. You both felt it, looking at each other just a little bit too long for it to be platonic, but you quickly ended it, leaving as soon as you could.

He was a Holidate, nothing more.

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“Our hands touched,” he told Max as they set out for a day of golfing.

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did you use protection?”

Lando scoffed as Max laughed.

“I’m telling you there was a… moment, or something,” he sighed. “I’m starting to really like her.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got to get out then,” Max turned serious.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Mate,” he groaned. “You’re a fucking F1 driver who is trying to win a World Championship right now, do you think you’ll have all the time in the world to date someone?” “But… the weddings’ coming up- and it’s on labour day. Technically that’s a holiday.”

“You’re already in too deep, bring someone else,” Max instructed.

“Max I can juggle two things at once-”

“Mate, you’ve worked your entire life for this, do not fuck it up for some girl!”

Lando saw the truth in what he was saying (even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear), and he sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll text her tonight.”

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You walked into the wedding, a sour look on your face. You date, Farrouq (your mom’s neighbour) clung to your aunt all night while Lando’s date was some super model that made you want to run and hide.

“Hi,” he smiled, coming up to you at the bar.

“Hi.”

“Enjoying the wedding?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed.

“Your date seems nice,” you mentioned.

“She left a little while ago,” he admitted.

“Oh shit, sorry,” you cursed. “I genuinely meant it. I didn’t see her leave-”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “No harm done.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked behind you to see your aunt tounging your date, and you sighed. “Any plans for halloween?”

“I’m working on it,” he agreed. Holidates once again.

Max would murder him. He didn’t feel too guilty about it.

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Halloween rolled around and Lando put you in a fucking pirates costume with a very tight corset, but you understood that’s what you get when you put a dude in charge of costumes. You sat with your sister at the bar, waiting for Lando to catch your eye when you felt hands around your waist.

“Ahoy mate,” he whispered, giggling.

“Fuck!” you jumped. “You scared me!”

He laughed, then stopped when he actually looked at you. “The costume looks… amazing,” he smiled, starstruck.

“Thanks I feel like a total slut,” you joked.

“Well you look like one too,” Abby added. “Go get a drink or something,” you scoffed, shooing her off. You turned to Lando. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Get fucked up?”

“Sounds perfect!” you smiled, then took a swig of your beer. The night went off with some dancing, some chocolate, and then in came Luc with a very pregnant Nicola.

Pregnant. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. You stood there in stunned silence as everyone caught up, shocked at the fact that she was pregnant.

“Holy fuck! She’s pregnant, pregnant!” you complained as you walked through the party, feeling increasingly sick.

“Come on, you just need a drink,” Abby scoffed, handing you some punch.

Your stomach turned. “No, no, I’m really sick,” you shook your head, bracing yourself against the table.

“Are you alright?” Lando asked, holding your waist.

“No,” you leaned into him. “Not at all.”

“Should I bring you home?” he offered.

“I’ll just get a cab, I’m alright-”

“Holidate rule number three, never leave a date behind,” he reminded you, so you let him get in the cab with you.

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It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mixing alcohol with red dye 40 and about 50 mini candy bars was not a good idea. You whined as Lando had to physically pick you up and carry you to the lift of your aparmtnt,

“Wait, she’s due next week right?” you did the maths in your head. “They did it on Valentine’s day!” you sobbed.

“Everyone does it on Valentine’s day,” he reasoned.

“I didn’t!” you screamed.

He thought back. “Hey! I didn’t either!”

Then the lift dinged and he dragged you in, listening as you spiralled.

Then that awful noise. Then the awful feeling.

“Untie me,” you said, your voice low, sober.

“Huh?”

“Untie me,” you instructed, gasping at the strings of your corset.

“What- how the fuck do you untie this?” he asked, gripping at the strings.

“I don’t know! Just untie it!” you shouted.

“I can’t, it’s like-”

“Rip it Lando, fucking rip it!” you shouted.

“I’m trying, it’s-”

The elevator dinged and behind the doors an old couple appeared, looking less than impressed. You realised how bad it looked, but truly, it was much worse than what they were thinking. They closed again, and up another floor they went.

You needed to get to a toilet, now.

You both ran to your door, him ripping off your corset at the last moment before you shut the bathroom door, and thankfully you made it, but not without sobbing crying on the toilet. Fuck your sister and her accidentally giving you laxatives.

You sat in your bath as he held the shower head to your back.

“Don’t even look at me,” you sighed.

“I’m not,” he said, and he wasn’t. He was trying his absolute hardest not to look at you. Even though you’d almost actually shit yourself, even though he’d heard you sobbing crying, somehow, you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked back at you and smiled, when he was sure you weren’t looking. Something in his heart leaped, and he knew he should’ve been weary, but he almost didn’t care.

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You sat in bed as he brought you a glass of water and you sighed. “So… I guess I’ll be a story you tell at parties now? Half of Monaco will know me as the girl who-”

“The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?”

You groaned. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. “I meant it when I said I’d seen worse, and don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

You turned back around to face him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He offered you a soft smile, and you both fell asleep like that.

Waking up? That was a different story. You gently opened your eyes to see a very asleep Lando. His eyes scrunched up, an arm around you, his face closer to yours than it had ever been, and you smiled. The way his nose scrunched up, the moles on his face, his long eyelashes, I mean… you knew he was gorgeous before but up close? It was practically unfair.

Then his eyes fluttered open, and he moved his arm back, staring at you the same way you were staring at him. Again, another moment. His eyes on you, having him so close. It all drove you crazy.

He didn’t feel much different. He was tired of this charade, pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. Like he didn’t clear his schedule the second you’d asked him if he was free on Halloween. Then he moved closer, as if he was going to kiss you. He knew you wanted it too-

You covered your mouth with the covers. “I hate it when people kiss in the morning in movies, I think it’s disgusting,” you chuckled.

He laughed. God, you were adorable. He smiled at you for a moment, then moved your hand down, looking to you for approval. You nodded, and he kissed you.

And it was everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. The sparks flying, the silent feelings, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. Lando made you feel like that. He made you feel… amazing. And it was everything he’d ever wanted in a kiss too.

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You resurfaced after your soft morning sex and stood in the kitchen, both of you a little bit sweaty and tired.

“We should probably-”

“You can go, if you want,” you offered, hoping you hadn’t said the wrong thing. Lando was a famous, rich guy, he probably had casual sex all the time. You didn’t want to be one of those crazy girls that thinks that sex ties you to a person (even thought it was more than just sex to you), so you have to let him go, right?

He looked like a deer in headlights. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay or anything-”

“Obligated?” he questioned.

“Well, Halloween is over, right? Holidate ending? See you at Thanksgiving?” you joked.

His heart broke slightly. “Right.”

Then the doorbell rang.

You ran over, opening it as quickly as you could, only to reveal your sister, absolutely trashed. Lando stood against the counter, sighing. How could he let himself fuck this up too? You were amazing. You were the best thing that had happened to him all year. It was ridiculous how much he looked forward to your calls and texts, how often he checked his phone just to see the ‘group photo’ of you, him, Max, and your family that he’d taken at the wedding. You, with his arms around you. Even if you two were fighting that week, you still chose to stand beside him in the photo, and let him hold you. That meant more to him than anything. He groaned, hitting his head against a cabinet. How did he fuck it all up?

“I kissed the black panther!” Abby sobbed. “I kissed the guy, at the party, dressed as the black panther!”

“W-what?” you scoffed, holding her as she cried, sending a ‘help me’ look Lando’s way.

“I am a terrible person!” she screamed into a pillow sobbing.

“Morning Abby,” Lando smiled. She stopped crying and turned her attention to him.

“Morning Land… holy shit you two had sex!”

“We did not!” you argued.

“We didn't?” Lando asked, his voice quieter than usual. He put down his coffee mug.

“Oh…” Abby sighed. “I should- I should go.”

“NO! No, you- you stay! I’ll make some breakfast-” you pleaded, grabbing her hand.

“It’s alright Abby, you stay, I’ll go,” Lando nodded, grabbing the last bits of his costume. “Okay?” he looked to you, hoping against hope that you’d ask him to stay. You didn’t. “Okay.”

“Bye! See you at Thanksgiving!”

The look he gave you as he was leaving told you he wouldn’t call you again.

How did you always fuck everything up?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Mate, she shoved me out the door,” Lando sighed, doing anything but looking over the data.

Will sighed. “She didn’t even want a cuddle?”

“Nothing! We had half a cup of coffee in blissful silence, then she kicked me out!” he groaned. “Ugh! Why is dating so hard!”

Will chuckled. “It’s alright mate, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea-”

“But they’re not Y/n! I want Y/n. I want my Y/n,” he whined. “Y’know what the last thing she said to me was? ‘See you at Thanksgiving’, like it didn’t even mean anything to her. Like I was fucking meaningless.”

“At least you’ve still got her as a Holidate-”

“I cannot do that anymore,” he admitted. “I can’t just… pretend to be in love with her when I actually am.”

“No, mate, you’ve got to keep going with it. You just act like nothing has changed and she’ll come crawling back. It’s a foolproof idea!” ౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

God, you hated Thanksgiving. Your mother couldn’t cook, your sister was busy asking you about that guy she kissed at the party, and Lando was nowhere to be seen. As you opened the front door ready to run to the supermarket and buy an entire Thanksgiving feast, you were met with the face of Lando Norris.

“Hi,” he smiled sadly.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I have to run to the store so you can…”

“Great,” he nodded. “I’ll drive.”

You had realised that in the 11 months you’d known each other, you hadn’t ever driven with him. “Not too fast, not all of us have the neck of an F1 driver,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood. He just nodded with a reserved smile on his face. Challenge failed.

You sat in the car as he drove (definitely over the speed limit), awkwardly wondering what to say.

“How have you been?” he asked, his hands gripping the wheel.

“Good, busy,” you explained. “You?” “Good. Busy,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel even harder. You were both silent for a moment. “Are we seriously just going to pretend it never happened?”

“That works for me,” you nodded, thinking that’s what he really wanted.

“Well, for the record, I wasn’t the one who wanted to leave that morning,” he sighed.

“It’s not like you were asking to stay, plus, you didn’t even want to have sex with me in the first place. You’re not attracted to me, remember?”

“Why can’t you let that go?”

“Because when a guy opens with the fact that he doesn’t find you attractive, it kind of sets the tone for the relationship-”

“I was some random guy at the mall, what would you have said if I opened with ‘hi I think you’re insanely beautiful’?!”

You both paused for a second.

“Y/n, come on. Everything about you is beautiful. Your smile, your personality, your humour. You would’ve never gone out with me, definitely not on New Year’s.”

You were both quiet again.

“Does that change anything for you?” he looked at you, eyes pleading. You had to make a choice.

“No.”Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.

Why did you have to be so good at protecting yourself?

“Fucking hell- you’re trying so hard not to feel anything because you’re scared of getting hurt, so you’re lying to the both of us-”

“Maybe I just don’t feel the same, Lando. Not every girl will fall at your fucking feet,” you scoffed.

“Fine. Enjoy the rest of your holidays, alone, at the kids table, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

How did you fuck it up so badly? You walked back in.

“Where’s Lando?” Abby asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“What? What did you do?” Your brother asked.

“What makes you think it was my fault?” you scoffed.

“You should call him, he’s a good guy,” Abby added. “You should just call and apologise.”

“Why do you think it was my fault?”

“Well if you were honest with him we could probably get through one holiday without your personal life ruining dinner for everyone,” your mother sighed.

“My personal life?” you scoffed.

“Is a mess,” Abby interjected.

“Ok, my personal life might be a perpetual mess but at least I didn’t kiss some randomer at Halloween!” you argued.

“You fucking bitch,” she cursed.

A chorus of ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ quickly fell upon the room, until it was all drowned out by Peter, her husband.

“You kissed someone else?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry I thought you’d told him-”

“I saw no tongue,” York, your brother added.

“You saw and didn’t tell me?” Liz questioned.

“You can’t keep a secret,” he shrugged.

“How would you know that, you know nothing about me!” she scoffed, getting up.

“I trusted you!” Peter cried. “You went alone, I-I thought I could trust you-”

“I go everywhere without, a-and you never have any time for me because you’re always stressing about the kids-”

“One of us has to!” he shouted.

Then your aunt’s date had a literal heart attack, and you were all stuck in silence as the ambulance rolled away with him inside. He would be fine, but you and your aunt went with him (not by choice) just for good measure. He was fine in the end and your aunt even met the love of her life at the hospital.

Shittiest Thanksgiving ever.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As Christmas rolled around and you watched the F1 season come to a close, you watched as Lando finished second in the standings, just behind Oscar. You missed him. You missed texting and calling him, you missed watching him crack bad jokes and laugh until his stomach hurt, you missed his fluffy hair and pretty face.

You missed it all. The worst part was that he was right. You were just too afraid of being in love and putting your heart on the line, that you messed up the best thing that had ever happened to you.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

He walked through the same mall that he’d met you in a full year ago, and he sighed. He was empty, alone in Chicago once again, and he was done. Another chance at a WDC that he pissed away, and he was really starting to wonder if he truly had a place in the sport. Then he thought back to you, the way you liked him even without his race suit, without his money, without everything everyone else liked him for. You. He chuckled, he was probably just another Holidate to you, someone you wouldn’t even think about.

Then he saw you as the escalators passed, and the way you looked at him gave him a glimmer of hope that he was wrong, that you did care. But you were gone in a flash and he knew he should just let it die.

“There he was!” Abby squealed. “Go talk to him!”

“I can't, I'd just… it wouldn’t work. He hates me!”

“Y/n, life is giving you a moment right now, take it!”

And that’s how you ended up with a microphone in hand in the middle of a mall desperately trying to get the love of your life back.

Thankfully, he said yes. And yes, it was videoed and put on the internet hundreds of times, too bad he’s a public figure.

But that didn’t matter. You two were happy.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 11 months ago

Note

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do.

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down.

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.

You could see something change in his eyes.

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms.

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar xreader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #injured reader

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queenariesofnarnia · 1 year ago

Text

never underestimate the bunny

gif not mine!

wc: 642ish

Alastor x f!bunny!reader

warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending

🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.

“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”

a/n: here’s pt 2 that no one asked for but i felt like doing :)

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #angel dust x reader #the radio demon

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chrissturnss · 5 months ago

Text

Best friends Brother | c.s

warnings: SMUT, making out, use of nicknames, unprotected sex, praising.

summary: in which y/n comes over to her best friend, whose triplet brothers are visiting from L.A. That day one of them didn't say a word to her until that night..

word count: 2406

✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　🦌　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“heyy y/n” my best friend greeted me as if she hadn’t seen me in ages.. 4 hours ago. “Hi Aubrey” I said and hugged her back. "Bring your bag to my room" she said and I went up the stairs before her, she followed me "before I forget, Nick, Matt and Chris are back home and Nate is here too" she said "okay". Inside I felt this feeling in my stomach, I hadn't seen them in a long time, the last time they were in Boston I hadn't had time. Aubrey and I have known each other since kindergarten, so have I and the triplets. We grew up together, and as time went by we all changed, but to hell with Christopher Sturniolo. Who would have thought that this man would look this fine?!? I never told Aubrey that I had a crush on her brother. „you okay?“ „yeah“

we went to the backyard where we were expecting Nate, Matt and Chris. Nick came towards us in the hallway "hi y/n didn't know you were here. They're outside" he said "hi nick" we said as we passed. We continued walking, Aubrey in front of me. When we got outside the boys were sitting in their chairs. "hey y/n" said Matt "hey" Nate said looking at us. “hii” I said. "what are you doing?" Aubrey asked. I looked at Chris, he didn't even say hey or something, he looked at me, his blue eyes scanning my whole body. What are you looking for Christopher. Aubrey and I sat down. "Haven't seen each other in a long time," Matt said and smiled. "Yeah, because i-" Aubrey interrupted me "yeah, because she had a date the last time" she said and pushed my arm. "it wasn’t a date" I laugh in horror, Chris's gaze rests on me again, my eyes met his. what's wrong with him. "Cole said it was a date" she teased me. "Cole, like Cole Jackson?" Nate asked and I just nodded. "that dick?" laughed Chris. ohh the first words I heard from him today. "It wasn't even a date" I said "what did you guys do today?"

i felt at home in aubrey's home. she was already asleep, it was already dark outside. the boys were already in their rooms. i forgot my glass and my phone outside, so i went outside. on the way i didn't turn on the lights in the house, i didn't want to wake anyone up or draw trevor's attention to me. i tiptoed downwards, i sneaked out and there i saw the two things i wanted to get. i reached for the glass, but forgot my phone. i brought the glass into the kitchen and went outside again to get my phone. it was cold and i still had my dress on. when i got my phone and turned around my heart almost stopped. there was someone standing in the veranda door, turning on the outside light. "don't ever do that again christopher" i said quietly and snapped at him. "my bad". he came towards me. “what are you doing out here?” he asked. “forgot something,” i said and you could hear the nervousness in my voice. “so nervous” “i’m not” yes you are.. he stood in front of me, close, very close, my back touched the table that was behind me, I leaned on the table with my hands. My heart was racing, I could feel it, my stomach was turning, what was happening here, I felt the heat inside me and he was just standing there, until he touched me.

„i like that little dress“ he said, touching the fabric of my dress on my tight. his fingers ghosted in a small area on my skin, i felt my wetness slowly increasing, my thighs tensed and without me even noticing they tightened. chris looked up, dead in my eyes, a mischievous grin crawled onto his lips, he noticed, oh god damn.

„don't think i'll let you do anything to me. you didn't even say a word to me today, the only thing you did was stare“ I said, damn well knowing i would let him do anything to me if he kept going. and of course he did, one of his fingers slipped under my dress, circling on my skin. i looked down at his fingers and back again. my body reacted to every movement he did, i knew i was already dripping wet, i had goosebumps all over and my hands were shaking.

„you made me go crazy, hearing your pretty voice, your dress. god i was going insane“ His words made me tremble. If only he knew how often I think the exact same thing. every time I went home after hanging out with Aubrey and he was there too. I couldn't stop myself from touching me and thinking about him. fuck aubrey. I totally forgot about her. I can't, he's my best friend's brother.

„Stop Chris, what about Aubrey? I can’t she‘s my best friend“ I tried to stop us from what would happen next.

„I don’t care. I want you, I've wanted you for so long y/n.“ He whispered against my lips. My blood was rushing in my veins, my blood was boiling, my body was getting hot. I always hoped that these words would fall from Christopher Sturniolo's lips. „Chris-“ „please tell me you want this“ he almost sounded begging „I always wanted you, and now I need you“ I said, my chest heaving up and down, my breathing was so heavy, I breathed my words against his lips. My arms wrapped around his neck, my hands found places in his hair. He picked me up and sat me on the table. Our lips touched each other aggressively. One of his hands touched my breast and the other found its way under my dress, between my legs. I gasped, I felt his grin in the kiss. My hands ran down his body, slipped under his shirt and felt his abs.

„my pretty girl is already wet for me huh? I haven't even started“ He said as his fingers touched my folds. A small moan escaped my lips between our kiss. His touch sent shivers all over my body. Quiet noises escaped from my lips again my fingers were already tangled in his hair again and they clenched with every touch. "keep going with those pretty moans. I wanna hear you baby“

„chris please- i- i need you“ He gave me a quick look, his one hand pulling my dress down so my breasts were visible. "you're so beautiful baby" he said and immediately his tongue swirled around my nipples, my hands ghosted through his hair, I leaned on the table with one hand and leaned back a little, I saw his pretty face kissing my tits. My hands ran down his cheeks, I grabbed his chin and brought it to my face, he grinned cheekily and immediately our lips met again, his tongue fighting with mine.

He spread my legs and made his way down, taking off my panties. I couldn't wait, I needed him like he needed me. He didn't wait long, seeing his pretty face between my legs eating me out like I always dreamed of. I was wet, soaking wet. His moans vibrated to my most sensitive spot and through my whole body, I held his head with one hand and pressed my pussy against his face. As much as I loved his tongue, the way it hit every angle perfectly, I need him inside me. “You taste so good, I wanna do this every day” “mhm” I said, throwing my head back as he hit that spot “I wanna know how you feel wrapped around me baby” he said moving away, standing up , but two of his fingers still just slid my folds. He looked at me again, up and down, as if he was admiring me.

His absolutely wet mouth kissed me, I could taste myself. my hands made their way to his belt. I unbuckled it, broke the kiss, but looked deep into his eyes. His eyes became dark, pulling his pants down I could feel his huge dick in my hand. He was already hard, I stroked him with one hand, I wanted to suck him off, but Chris had other plans.

"look at me, wanna see you when i go in" Wrapping my arms around his neck again, he shifted me so I was closer to him. As he said, I looked at him, I felt his tip at my entrance, the slightest touch made me gasp, as he slowly pushed into me, my mouth fell open, his gaze was focused, as if he was studying my every reaction. I couldn't hold back my moan, as he went faster I couldn't hold myself together especially when he hit a certain point. "OH MY-" I screamed louder than I wanted, his hand quickly fell over my mouth, he smiled at me softly but cheekily "you want them to hear us huh" and I shook my head and took his hand away "sorry, it's just, you're better than I always thought" I said quietly "tell me more about "Your thoughts that you had about me, pretty girl" I grinned at him, brushing hair out of his face with one hand as he continued to thrust into me "You know, every time you were around, i waited until I got home to touch myself, I imagined you talking to me like that, how you feel and how good you make me feel, Christopher" "oh fuck baby"

„you should have told me this sooner" he moaned "I was thinking about how your cock would feel inside me" I whispered. "Do you remember the last time we saw each other? That night I jerked off like 4 times and god I couldn't get enough of you" his words, his thrusts, the way he looked at me and hit the right spot slowly made me weak, I knew I wouldn't last much longer. „keep going like this- oh my-“ I moaned „let me hear those pretty noises“

„cum all over my cock baby.“ he whispered. „i‘m gonna cum chris, please fuck me“ „you‘re so tight baby, you feel so good, you’re taking me so fuckin‘ good baby. cum all over my cock“ he said. The things he said were so fucking hot, I had to let go, his huge cock was pounding into me, his voice, the smell of his perfume lingered in my nose, his beautiful eyes looking at me. All of this gave me the best orgasm I've ever had in my life. „FUCK CHR-“ I moaned. "As much as I would like to hear you scream my name right now, you have to be quiet baby" he said and fucked me through my high. My Walls clenched around his cock. I had to kiss him, his tongue touching mine, he moaned into the kiss. I moved away to look into his face "come in me baby, i need you to fill me up. I need your cum inside me“ I whispered „oh fuck baby, i will. Don't worry, l'm gonna give your pussy all the cum it deserves" oh god those words driving me crazy. "please, - fuck chris fill me with your cum-" „fuck y/n, baby you‘re so fuckin‘ good“ and he lost it all, he growled and moaned into the crook of my neck, I could feel everything inside me, every little bit and it felt good, so fucking good.

"Are you okay?" He asked and I nodded "use your words baby" him using the word even though we're not fucking anymore is so sweet. "of course I am" I smiled. “I didn’t hurt you?” he asked "no" I said. I was still sitting on the table and he was between my legs. "Good, you don't believe me how much I wanted this to happen. You drive me crazy every time we see each other," he said and our eyes locked. "You could’ve told me" I said and brushed his sweaty hair out of his face, he grinned "You could’ve told me that you‘re thinking of me when you touch yourself" "You idiot" I laughed softly and studied his face

We went upstairs together, before I entered Aubrey's room he stopped me in front of the door. With his hands on my hips, he pulled me towards him. His lips slammed against mine, moving in sync, my hands ghosting from his neck up to his hair and back and down his neck as we moved away, but he pulled away, kissing me hungrier. Damn that man, I grinned into the kiss. "What?" he said, interrupting "you can't get enough, can't you?" "Not of you" he said and kissed me again and then moved away himself. "Good night pretty girl, see you in the morning" he said and let me open Aubrey's door. "Goodnight Chris" I whispered quietly and he smiled.

The next morning I woke up and Aubrey wasn't lying next to me. I got dressed and went downstairs. Nick, Nate Matt and Aubrey were sitting in the backyard like last night. “Good morning” everyone said at the same time “hii“ I said smiling and somehow still a little sleepy. "Where’s Chris?" I asked, standing at the table, in the exact spot where he fucked me. "There" Matt said and we all turned around. I thought I looked absolutely sleepy, but no one could top him, his hair looked almost the same as it did when my hand ran through it. A slight smile crept onto my lips. "What happened to you?" said Nick with a slight laugh. "Tiring night huh?" Nate asked very sus and Chris nodded. "Oh my god, did you guys also hear the moaning last night, it sounded like it was coming from outside.“ Chris was standing next to me now, everyone agreed with Aubrey, except me and Chris "No, I didn't hear anything" I said "No me neither." Justin came around the conversation, oh god, I completely forgot about him. "You're probably the only ones who haven't heard anything. I wonder why" he said as if he knows something "what?" Matt asked "oh no" said Nick with his mouth open and slapped both hands over it, Nate just laughed at us and shook his head "WAIT, I heard my best girlfriend fucking, STOP EVEN WORSE, my own brother" Aubrey said and threw her arms over her head and then started laughing. I expected everything, but not for her to find it funny. "It wasn't, like-" i began "yeah, right we uhm" said Chris "just shut up Chris, sorry y/n, but we all know now" said Nick okay, so we were half caught Chris and I just looked at each other smiling slightly.

✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　🦌　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#chris sturniolo #chrissturnss #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #fanfiction #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fandom

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daryltwdixon · 1 month ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Daryl

Daryl x Reader Fluff

summary: On a quiet Christmas Eve in Alexandria, an unexpected moment under mistletoe brings you and Daryl closer in a way neither of you expected. slightly nerdy awkward reader

author's note: just something cute to wish you all a happy holiday 🎄✨🎁❄️☃️🎅🦌🌟

The faint hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, the low flicker of candles and strings of scavenged Christmas lights casting a warm glow across the house. Alexandria feels… different tonight. Almost like the world hasn’t ended. Like they’re all just neighbors, throwing a party to pass the time. You suppose it's what it's been like for them this whole time, but for you and your group...it was a nice reminder of what once was.

Maggie is laughing at something Glenn said, her eyes crinkling in a way you haven’t seen in months. Carl and Judith sit by the fire with Michonne, her arm draped protectively around the boy’s shoulders as she listens to his quiet chatter. Rick’s laugh carries over the rest of the noise, and for a moment, everything feels—normal.

Instead of joining in, you linger on the outskirts, nursing your drink. It’s not that you don’t feel welcome—you do, mostly. It’s just easier to watch, to soak in the warmth and pretend the ache of missing something you can’t quite name isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Your eyes wander, always searching no matter what room you're in—for him.

Daryl.

He stands near the door, half in shadow, nursing a beer with one hand while the other rests on his hip. He’s not watching anyone in particular, but his eyes scan the room like always, as if he’s looking for trouble—or maybe just a reason to leave. There’s something about the way he stands, so separate from everyone else, that pulls you in.

You’ve always told yourself it’s nothing, this feeling that tugs at you whenever he’s around. But it can't be nothing. Not with the way your heart picks up when he looks at you, the way you catch yourself stealing glances at him when you think he won’t notice. It’s the way he speaks—not much, but when he does, it’s rough and honest and somehow makes you feel safer than all the walls around Alexandria combined.

You take another sip, your fingers tightening slightly on the glass. You like him. You’ve liked him for months, but it’s not the kind of thing you can just admit—to yourself or to him. You’re not even sure he sees you that way. You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t, because it’s easier than hoping for something you might not get.

Still, your feet move before you can stop them.

“You look like you’re having fun,” you tease as you approach, your voice light despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

He glances at you, his lips twitching in something that could almost be a smile. “Ain’t exactly my scene.”

You shrug, falling beside him to lean against the wall, “Not mine either, really. But it’s nice, right? Seeing everyone like this?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze shifting back to the room. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah. S’good for ‘em.”

The way he says it—quiet, almost like it’s a secret—makes your chest ache. You wonder if he ever lets himself have anything good, or if he always watches from the sidelines, thinking it’s enough just to see other people happy.

You study him for a long moment, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his thumb taps idly against the glass bottle. But with a shift of his shoulders, he's pushing off the wall.

“You heading out already?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Think so,” he mutters. His voice is low, rough, but it doesn’t feel dismissive. If anything, it feels like an invitation—to follow, to keep talking, to… something.

Instead, you offer a soft smile. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

He dips his head in a nod, stepping away from the doorframe and into the chilly night.

The walk home is quiet, the air crisp and biting against your skin. You tuck your hands into your pockets, letting your breath mist in front of you as you replay the evening in your head.

You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled. It’s not like you expected him to stay. Daryl doesn’t do parties or crowds or small talk. That’s part of who he is, and it’s part of why you like him. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that you should have said more.

You spot him just beyond the houses, leaning against one of the bare trees that line the edge of the path. He’s looking up, his face tilted toward the branches, and for a moment, you just watch him, the way he always seems to watch everyone else.

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, your voice breaking the stillness.

He turns slightly, his gaze landing on you. “Could ask you the same.”

You step closer, following his gaze to the small sprig of green dangling from one of the lower branches. It takes a second to register, but when it does, your heart skips. Mistletoe.

A laugh escapes you, nervous and too loud in the quiet night. “Huh. Did you know mistletoe’s a parasite?”

His brow furrows, and you press on, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I mean, technically a semi-parasite. It attaches to trees and, you know… kind of takes what it needs. Pretty romantic, right?”

He’s watching you now, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “You always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m nervous,” you blurt, and the words hang in the cold air, making your cheeks burn.

Daryl tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing in that way he does when he’s trying to figure something out. You can feel your pulse quicken under his gaze, the weight of his attention making your tongue trip over itself. “It’s just… mistletoe. And, uh… you.”

As soon as the words are out, you wish you could take them back, your eyes darting anywhere but at him. The mistletoe, the ground, the shadow his boots make on the frost-bitten earth—anything to avoid the unreadable look you’re sure is on his face.

The silence stretches, thick enough to strangle you. You almost start rambling again, desperate to fill the gap, when he clears his throat.

“Mistletoe, huh?” he mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

You glance up, startled, and your breath catches. He’s still watching you, but there’s something softer in his expression now, something almost shy. He shifts his weight, his thumb hooking into his belt loop, and the small, nervous movement sends a rush of affection through you.

“Well, yeah,” you say, the words spilling out faster now, your voice breathy. “I mean, technically it’s a semi-parasite. It grows on trees, kind of… leeching off them, but in a subtle way. You know, symbiotic. It’s not entirely—”

You stop abruptly when you realize he’s taken a small step closer. Your heart pounds against your ribs, and you’re suddenly very aware of how quiet it is, just the faint rustle of the wind through the trees and the sound of your own breathing.

He’s not much taller than you, but he feels bigger somehow, his presence grounding you even as it sends your thoughts scattering. Your eyes flick to the mistletoe above, then back to his, and you swear he notices because his gaze drops—briefly—to your lips before snapping back up.

“Y/N…” he says softly, his voice rough and hesitant, like suddenly the name tastes different on his tongue suddenly.

Your breath catches again, and before you can second-guess yourself, you both move. It’s awkward at first, both of you leaning in too fast, your noses brushing in a way that makes you stifle a nervous laugh. But then his hand comes up, rough and warm against your jaw, steadying you, and suddenly the world narrows to just this—just him.

His lips meet yours, tentative and soft at first, but the moment stretches, deepens, like neither of you wants to pull away. You lean into him, your hands finding his jacket, clutching at the worn fabric like you need it to keep steady.

Daryl kisses you like he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing but doesn’t want to stop. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, and it makes your chest ache because it feels so him. Honest. Earnest.

When you finally part, you’re both breathing harder than you should be, the air between you clouding with misted breaths. His hand lingers against your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You feel your lips curve into a smile, the warmth blooming in your chest spilling out into your words. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

#happy Christmas you guys :)#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl one shot #daryl dixion imagine #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon x you #Daryl Dixon fluff #fluffy one shot #the walking dead fluffy

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fraugwinska · 9 months ago

Note

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty #for the frauchen #quick fic

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gotta-winwin · 2 months ago

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(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> the road we walk together

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1.3k tw: swallowing pills (vitamins) italics are interviews cut between scene a/n: reliving seungkwan's birthday ep and being reminded at how well he took care of everyone during an ode tour (˶˃⤙˂˶)

“I think I was more stressed about planning Seungkwan’s birthday surprise than the actual concert.” Cyana held an amused expression as she spoke to the camera. “It’s hard to plan a surprise when you have thirteen blabbermouths.”

Cyana lay on the sofa, still in her t-shirt and sweatpants, furiously typing away on her phone.

🐰: i already asked our staff to get a cake - but you guys better not snitch to kwannie !! 🦌: relax, nana. It’ll be fine. 🐶: yeah, as long as we tape soonyoung’s mouth shut 🐯: woah woah woah no??? 🍒: i’m sure it’ll be fine, nana. Remember to call me when you guys surprise him.

“What did I tell you about using your phone while lying down?”

Cyana peaked out from behind her phone to see a pouting Seungkwan staring down at her.

“Do you want to go even more blind?” Seungkwan continued to chide, bending down to get a glance at her screen

Throwing her phone down before he could see, Cyana swiped a leg towards his, knocking him down next to her.

Letting out a yelp as he landed on the couch, Seungkwan tried reaching for her phone. “Are you keeping secrets now, Nana?”

The two wrestled for the phone, Cyana pushing a hand into Seungkwan’s face, laughing when he tried biting her fingers off.

“We’re gossip buddies!” He protested. “You tell me everything.”

Sticking her tongue out rather childishly, Cyana couldn’t help but grin. “No, I tell Dino everything.”

“Betrayal.” Seungkwan detangled himself from her, standing back up. “No more special chewable vitamins for you anymore.”

Sitting back up, her eyes widened at the threat. “You wouldn’t do that.” She whined, standing up and following him into the bigger green room where everyone was eating. “You know I hate swallowing pills.”

“You’re keeping secrets.” He pointed an accusatory finger in her direction as he grabbed his own vitamins from his bag.

“Let the girl live.” Vernon mumbled from the side, his head covered by a cap, lazily scrolling through his own phone.

“Yeah, Kwannie.” Cyana pleaded, moving to stand next to him, peaking into his bag for the chewables she knew he had. “Let me live.”

“Seungkwan’s very good at taking care of all of us.” Cyana smiled. “It’s not uncommon to hear him running about, yelling at everyone to take their vitamins.”

Letting out a dramatic sigh, Seungkwan reached back into his bag and brought out the container he usually set aside for Cyana. He knew she had some weird unliking for pills, so he was careful to always bring chewable vitamins wherever they went.

“Here.” He shook out the designated amount of tablets for her.

Taking them and popping them into her mouth, she smiled, squeezing his shoulder as she moved past him to sit down. “Thanks, Kwan.”

“Kwan!” Cyana yelled, getting his attention before he could leave the room. Her makeup artist sighed at the movement, gently reminding her to keep still.

“Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly, eyes shining up at her. She’d grown close with the staff that worked with them, day in and day out.

Turning when he heard his name being called, he walked back in, looking at Cyana through the mirror. “You’re so sparkly today.” He commented, eyeing the various jewels they were gluing under her eye.

She hummed, closing her eyes at the makeup artist’s instruction. “Your coffee’s over there, by the water cooler.” She pointed blindly in the general vicinity.

“I love you.” Seungkwan gushed happily, having been craving his infamous Iced Americano all day.

“Mhm.”

“Say it back.”

“Mhm.” Her lips curled up into a suppressed smile. Even with her eyes closed, she could already see the judging stare and pout on his face.

“Cyana.” His tone warned her, although there was equal mirth in the amused smile across his face.

“Love you too, Kwan.” She mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

Smiling happily in victory, Seungkwan waved to the camera filming them. “You got that on video, right? Send that to me please.”

Cyana eyed Seungkwan from the corner of her eye, watching as the boy showed the camera how he did squats.

“What is he doing?” Cyana mumbled, poking Wonwoo.

He looked up from his spot next to her, pausing his game. “What?”

She pointed at Seungkwan, who had his heels lifted off the ground as he flexed his toes, squatting. “What is that?”

Wonwoo laughed, returning to his game. “That’s just something Seungkwan does.” Nudging her side, he lifted his phone to show her his game. “I’m grinding levels, wanna join?”

“Of course.” She stood up, patting her skirt pockets, looking for her phone. “Nonu?”

“Hm?”

“Have you seen my phone?”

Looking up, he pushed his glasses back as he glanced around, shrugging. “You were at the makeup table right? Maybe check there?”

Seungkwan sipped his ice americano, squats long forgotten as he watched the two. Cyana brushed past him as she left to grab her phone, and he wiggled his eyebrows at Wonwoo.

“You guys have been getting close.” He commented.

Wonwoo gave him a stare. “Uh-huh.” He returned back to his game, a look of nonchalance painting his face. The only giveaway to his inwardly flustered state was his ears, which were now tinted pink.

“uH-hUh.” Seungkwan mocked, taking a couple steps back when Wonwoo shot him a glare. “Sorry.”

“What’s going on?” Cyana returned, holding her phone up triumphantly. “I found my phone!” She took her spot next to Wonwoo, logging on to the game. “Joshua had it for some reason.” Frowning when Wonwoo didn’t respond, she eyed him critically before shrugging, returning her attention back to her phone.

“It must have been really warm or something, because Wonwoo’s face was all red for no reason at all.” Cyana frowned, still a little confused and blissfully unaware. “Strange, isn’t it?”

“Poor girl.” Seungkwan shook his head remorsefully as he spoke. “And poor Wonwoo too. I ain’t her gossip buddy for nothing - those two are the two most dense people I know when it comes to attraction.”

“Why am I getting interviewed again?” Wonwoo asked, his eyes full of confusion. “Isn’t this Seungkwan’s segment?”

[note from inside seventeen editor: romance is not dead - just very blind]

“Happy birthday to you~”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as the hotel room lights dimmed, revealing his members and a giant birthday cake, adorned with glowing candles.

“Happy birthday to Seungkwan~”

Cyana wrapped an arm around his neck, hugging him from behind. “Happy birthday Kwannie.” She murmured quietly, smiling when he relaxed into her hold.

“I thought you guys forgot!” He exclaimed, whining as he took the cake into his hands. “I was looking at the clock and it was already almost 12am.”

Joshua laughed from behind Mingyu. “He was swearing in his room.”

“Was not.” Seungkwan was quick to defend himself. “Don’t spread false news, hyung.”

“Make a wish.” Cyana urged him, redirecting his attention to the cake in his hands. “Before the candles melt.”

She watched as the boys quieted, everyone watching Seungkwan. His mouth moved silently as he wished with his eyes closed shut.

“Thank you.” Seungkwan murmured into Cyana’s ear as he hugged her, the mini birthday party now in full swing. “Shua hyung told me you organized it all.”

She smiled. “Of course. Birthdays are meant to be special, even on tour.”

“I thought it was going to happen onstage, after our encore ment.” He admitted, swaying as he continued to hug her. “So I was confused when HIT started playing and there was no cake.”

Cyana let out a snort of laughter, enjoying how endearing he was. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” She explained. “Thought you might expect it, if it was onstage.”

He hummed. “You did well. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Seungkwan is very special to me because he’s always ready to make us happy.” Cyana smiled at the thought of her friend. “Even when he’s tired, he’s ready to make us laugh. A lot of people are surprised to learn that Seungkwan isn’t always happy and smiley like he is on camera.” Taking a pause, she looked directly into the camera as she spoke her next words. “I hope Kwannie knows it’s okay not to be happy all the time. And that I’ll be there - whenever he needs to just … wallow.”

a/n: boo always makes me so emotional just thinking about how much he loves his members ˙◠˙ also some woona tidbits!

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alwaysmoncheri · 11 months ago

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hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

#my works ──★ ˙☕️ ̟ !!#masterlist #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot

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scoutswritingcorner · 11 months ago

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Hi, I've just discovered your page, and I love all your stories, Especially the Alastor x Readers. So, I was just wondering if you could do an Alastor x Fem Reader, like how would he react to his doe announcing being pregnant/ How would he be as a dad? Also the same for Lucifer? if it's not too much?

Family Man

Alastor x GN!Reader, Lucifer x GN! Reader

A/N: Hihi! Thank you so much for requesting friend! I made this more into a headcanon/fic thing! Thank you for your kind words, friend!

TW:Pregnancy, anxiety that comes with that topic, Alastor being Alastor

Alastor:

-🦌 First off when you told him, he was silent for a very very long time. I’m talking full on deer in headlights moment, he stayed like that for an hour. Your poor husband was confused and his brain had to reboot.

-🦌 Once he gets out of his funk, he’s going to ask you if your okay with that and if having a family is what you want. Don’t get me wrong, he’s excited but he’s also extremely nervous. He never thought of himself as a family man.

-🦌 It’s not that he hates kids or children in general he just never saw the interest in them. Little tiny humans running around just didn’t appeal to him, he also didn’t have time when he was alive. Ya know between killing and running his radio show.

-🦌 But once he makes sure it’s what you wanted? He’s going all out, I’m talking about getting everything from a bigger room in the hotel to little baby clothes (he acts like he’s uninterested but by Lucifer you catch his eyes lingering a little too long with a certain softness).

-🦌 Won’t let you lift a finger at all (not like he didn’t before). 100% more overprotective than anything. You want to go out on a walk? He’s with you immediately, arm wrapped around your waist. He can’t go with you? His shadows are following you.

Alastor was in the middle of a conversation disagreement with Husk before his focus was pulled away seeing you put on your coat, “Darling, where are you off to on this fine Hellish afternoon?” He asked, appearing behind you with his arm wrapped around your waist as he bent down to gently kiss your cheek. “Going on walk,” You hummed as he sent a gaze down towards your growing belly. “Perfect!~ Maybe if you're up for it we can stop by Cannibal Town to speak with Rosie~” He hummed, forgetting all about the conversation from before his focus mainly on you.

-🦌 Speaking of Rosie, once she knows about your pregnancy she’d be over the moon and makes it her mission to watch over you if Alastor has “business” murder to attend to as well as makes herself an Auntie. You didn’t mind at all.

-🦌 Once you go into labor? He is right beside you wiping your forehead and allowing you to squeeze his hand as much as you want. As well as making death threats to whoever was helping you deliver the baby whether that be a doctor or someone from the Hotel. He has very creative ways of explaining how he would skin someone from head to toe. If you weren’t in so much pain (and delirious from the medication) you would’ve told him to chill.

-🦌 Now once the baby is in your arms and he’s calmed down significantly, he’s going to be pampering you and his child. He doesn’t care for what the gender of his child is, he just wants you and his child to be happy.

-🦌 Now, this might go without saying but Alastor is a Mama’s boy through and through so if he does end up having a daughter there is a chance he might name her after his mother in someway. If it’s a boy, he’ll allow you to have full reign on the naming process while giving his input as well.

-🦌 Now, I see Alastor as a laid back but strict parent. He’ll allow his kid(s) to have full reign and learn what hurts them or not. But will step in if they are truly in danger or about to get seriously hurt. Will give out amazing advice when needed. But most likely will stay back.

-🦌 No matter the gender of his kid(s), they will sit with him in his radio tower as he shows them what does what. He does this mostly when they are babies or toddlers when they get older he actually teaches them on what does what and how to successfully run a radio show. You have caught him doing this multiple times and he has yet to apologize cause they need to know how important radio is.

You were making your way up to your husband’s tower as you had a sneaking suspicion that he had once again taken your child up there. As you entered through the hatch you watched the display of your husband holding the sleeping toddler in his arms as he rocked back and forth. “These dials right here help you change the frequency and volume of your show..” he softly whispered out his ears, flickering noting your sudden appearance. You walked over as quietly as you could watching as the small tail on your toddler wagged in their sleep. You didn’t dare disrupt him now as he had a way of getting them to bed easily.

-🦌 Overall, he would be great in some aspects. Once again very laid back but still very much present and active in everything involving both you and your child together. He has some flaws in his parenting but honestly who doesn’t. 7/10 in my books.

-🦌 Oh also- Dad jokes all day, every day. He once again will not apologize, good luck.

Lucifer:

-🍎 Oh boy our favorite short King in the house. He’s done this rodeo for Charlie all those years ago, he knows what to do.

-🍎 But once you tell him in the form of rubber duckies (idk that seems so cute to me) he looks up at you confused before he starts bawling. Don’t worry it’s because he is super excited and he’s an emotional guy, please give him hugs and kisses.

-🍎 Once he is done crying, he picks you up and spins you around before the anxiety sets in. Do you want to be a parent? What if he isn’t a good father? What he fucks up again?

-🍎 Please reassure him and give him more kisses, tell him you do want to be a parent with him and he’ll be a great father and if he fucks up, you’ll be there 100% of the way to help him back on the right track. He appreciates you so much.

-🍎 He is super nervous to tell Charlie cause what if she doesn’t approve? What if she gets upset? She doesn’t, Charlie is super super excited to have another sibling and when she hears the news she cries much like her father. So now you have your husband and stepdaughter sobbing in each other’s arms.

-🍎 Charlie convinces you both to do a baby shower/gender reveal party at the hotel. Vaggie makes sure to keep the troublemakers Angel and Alastor at bay. Lucifer the whole time is making sure you're alright and comfortable while also crying at the tiny baby booties.

You smiled at your husband who was walking back with a glass of water for you, “Are you okay? Do you need anything else, Darling?” He whispered out sitting next to you, making you smile and shake your head. “I’m fine, Luci..go enjoy the baby shower Charlie set up for us..” You whispered out watching as he pouted at the thought of leaving you his very pregnant spouse.

-🍎 Idk why but my brain just wants Lucifer to have twins so bam- he’s gonna have twins now. Poor man had to let his brain reset for a hot minute cause now he’s gonna have double the babies. He will cry so please hug him close again.

-🍎 Oh boy oh boy when you go into labor? He is the best person to go to, he’ll let you scream and curse at him while he comforts you and gives you little kisses between praises. Wiping the sweat and tears from your face while allowing you to squeeze his hand.

-🍎 When he holds the twins? He cries most definitely and promises to do everything he can to make his babies happy.

-🍎 Another man who doesn’t care what the gender of his babies are, if they are healthy and happy he is happy. The possibilities here for names are endless. The babies most definitely get his blonde hair and rosy red cheeks.

-🍎 Now having twins gives him the opportunity to be like, “Not only do I have one cute baby, I have TWO” and proceeds to turn around to show the other baby happily sleeping in a baby sling. You always laugh cause why is your husband so cute?

-🍎 You both need a break or want to go out on a date and can’t get a babysitter? Not to worry Big Sis Charlie is to the rescue with Vaggie and the rest of the crew!

“Are you sure Charlie? We can find someone else if you're too busy.” You asked, feeling horrible but Charlie happily waved off your concern, “Nonsense! I’d love nothing more than to look after my siblings as you and dad go take some well needed rest!” She hummed, glancing over at Vaggie who was happily holding one of the sleeping twins and Lucifer glaring at Alastor who was watching from afar. “Okay, if you're sure..If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” You replied watching as your other baby happily chomped on your husband’s finger with the amount of confidence only babies seem to have.

-🍎 Overall, Lucifer’s parenting style is great! He’s a little anxious but who isn’t when dealing with babies, he’ll mess up sure but once again lead him in the right direction and he’ll be fine. I’d give him a 9/10 here. Minus one point because of the dad jokes mixing with the duck jokes (but that’s what we love about him no? It’s mostly the dad jokes.)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #gn reader #alastor x gn!reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x gn!reader

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freshl6ve · 5 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒 | 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓

NSFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : At a crowded party, Y/N ends up sitting on Chris’s lap due to a lack of seating. Feeling overwhelmed by the closeness, Chris can no longer contain his feelings. He takes Y/N’s hand, and they slip away from the party together. Once in the car, they share a passionate, private moment away from the noise.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🦌⊰˚ : 𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬’𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐩, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The closeness was both thrilling and overwhelming, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Despite the crowded party around us, all my attention was fixed on the man who had just pulled me into his lap.

Chris’s hand was wrapped around mine, the heat of his touch sending a shiver up my spine, and he leaned in close to my ear. “Are you okay?” he asked, his low, gruff voice sending another wave of desire through me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Yeah,” I said, shifting a little in Chris’s lap. “The party is kind of boring, to be honest.”

Chris chuckled, his hand moving to rest on my waist. “And here I thought you were enjoying yourself,” he teased, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my hip.

I felt my breath catch in my throat as Chris let out a soft moan, the sound sending a shockwave of desire through me. I couldn’t help but move a little more, just to hear that sound again, and Chris’s grip on my waist tightened.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice low and rough. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

I chuckled, feeling a thrill of excitement at the hint of danger in Chris’s voice. “What, afraid you’re going to lose control?” I taunted, shifting again in his lap, this time deliberately pressing against him.

“Watch it,” he warned again, his voice a growl this time. “You keep doing that,” he added, his hand gripping my hip tightly, “and I won’t be able to hold back.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine, a wave of heat pooling in my stomach. “Maybe that’s what I want,” I breathed, leaning in closer to him. “Maybe I want you to lose control.”

I had always been a bit of a flirt with Chris, but I didn’t quite realize how my words and actions were affecting him. I was innocently unaware of the true impact I was having on him, simply going with the flow of our banter and conversation.

But as Chris pulled me closer, I began to feel a sense of uncertainty. The truth was, I had little experience in flirting, let alone anything more intimate.

But as I felt Chris’s hand on my waist, his thumb tracing circles over my skin, I couldn’t help but respond. I leaned into his touch, my body instinctively seeking his. The heat of his touch and the rough, gravelly sound of his voice were making me feel things I’d never felt before.

Chris suddenly stood, taking my hand firmly in his. “C’mon,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed desire. “Let’s get out of here.”

We left the party, hand in hand, and quickly made our way to Matt's car. Chris opened the back door, gesturing for me to get in. I slid into the backseat, my heart racing with anticipation. Chris followed me, closing the door behind him before he pulled me onto his lap.

The confined space of the car suddenly felt intimate and charged with tension. Chris’s body was pressed against mine, his hand once again on my hip, his touch possessive and sure. I felt a surge of heat and desire course through me, and I couldn’t help but melt against him, my body instinctively seeking his touch.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “No idea how badly I want you right now.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the raw desire in his voice. “Then take me,” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. “Please, Chris. Make me yours.”

Chris let out a low growl, his hand tightening on my hip. “Be careful what you ask for,” he warned, his voice a rough whisper. “Once I take you, I won’t be able to stop.”

A flicker of nervousness shot through me, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of desire. “I don’t want you to stop,” I breathed, my body arching against his. “I want you, all of you.”

With a growl, Chris pulled me roughly into a kiss, his hand moving to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. Our lips collided in a clash of desire and need, his tongue demanding entry into my mouth. I gasped, kissing him back with a fervor that surprised even me, my body molding to his as we embraced.

The kiss was intense, filled with a hunger and desperation that left me breathless. As Chris’s tongue tangled with mine, his hands roaming over my body, I felt something inside me awaken. A part of me that was innocent and untouched, but also eager and wanting. I found myself giving in to the sensations, losing bits of my innocence with every kiss and touch.

Chris broke the kiss, his lips trailing along my jawline and down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. I let out a soft moan, tilting my head back to give him better access, my body arching against him involuntarily. His teeth scraped gently against my skin, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine

As Chris continued to kiss and nibble at my neck, my hand instinctively moved to his hair, burying my fingers in the short locks. The sensation of his lips against my skin was sending waves of pleasure through me, and I couldn’t help but tug at his hair, pulling him even closer.

The sensations and emotions were overwhelming, and as Chris’s lips continued to explore my neck, I let out a soft whisper, unable to hold it in any longer. “Just... be gentle,” I breathed, my voice shaky with both pleasure and nervousness.

As I admitted my inexperience, I felt a wave of embarrassment crash over me, and I instinctively covered my face with my hands, unable to look at him. A small part of me was certain that this revelation would change everything, that Chris would probably not want to continue with someone so inexperienced.

Chris gently took my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. I kept my eyes downcast, unable to meet his gaze, but I could hear the reassurance in his voice. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Just tell me when to stop, okay?”

I nodded, still feeling a bit embarrassed but also reassured by Chris’s words. Before I could process anything else, he leaned forward, his lips capturing mine again in a gentle, tender kiss. His hand reached up, caressing my face, his touch soft and caring. It was a stark contrast to the intense passion of the previous kisses, and it left me feeling both vulnerable and adored.

Chris pulled back slightly, his lips still lightly touching mine. In a low, soothing voice, he whispered, “Just relax and let me be in control. You’ll be in good hands.” The words sent a shiver down my spine, both a reassurance and a promise at the same time.

Chris continued his kisses down my neck, his hands moving to the hem of my shirt, gently lifting it up and over my head, tossing it carelessly aside. I gasped as the cool air hit my skin, feeling suddenly exposed, but the heat in Chris’s gaze was reassuring.

Chris continued his descent down my body, his lips trailing kisses over my collarbone and down my chest, his hands gently exploring the newly exposed skin. The sensations were overwhelming, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through me, making me gasp and arch against him, silently begging for more.

Chris lingered over my shoulders, his lips mapping a path of feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin. With each kiss, he inhaled deeply, as if taking in my scent, savoring the moment. The intimacy of the gesture made my heart race and my body tingled under his touch.

As Chris continued to kiss my shoulders, I couldn’t help but reach up and bury my fingers in his hair once more. The texture of his short locks soothed me, grounding me in this moment. I gently tugged at the strands, pulling him closer, silently pleading for more.

The sensations were overwhelming, and I could feel my body responding to his touch, my skin growing sensitive and every nerve ending feeling like it was on fire. I had never experienced anything like this before, and I was helpless to the onslaught of pleasure.

Emboldened by the pleasure coursing through me, and the overwhelming desire to feel more of him, I reached for the hem of Chris’s shirt. My fingers trembled as I grasped the fabric, pulling it up and over his head, discarding it into the darkness of the car.

Once the shirt was gone, I let my hands roam over his bare chest, feeling the ridges and valleys of his muscles under my fingers. The heat of his skin against mine was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and it only added fuel to the fire that was burning within me.

Unable to resist, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his jaw and the side of his neck, mimicking the kisses he had given to me just moments ago. His skin was warm, his stubble rubbing against my lips as I kissed and nipped at his skin.

Chris let out a low moan, his hands gripping my hips even tighter, his body reacting to my touch. It was clear that he was losing control, his composure slowly unraveling as I explored his neck and jawline.

My confidence growing with each of his reactions, I continued to kiss and nibble along his jaw and neck, my hands roaming over his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath my fingertips. It was thrilling to know that I had this effect on him, and it only fueled my own desire.

As my lips and teeth continued their exploration of his neck, Chris let out a deep, guttural moan, the sound echoing in the confines of the car. The low, primal sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt him tilt his head back, offering me more access to his skin.

As my lips planted kisses along the sensitive skin of his throat, my ears caught the faint whisper of Chris's voice. “Y/N...” His voice was a low murmur, full of longing and heat.

I felt Chris's hand slowly make its way down my body, finding the hem of my pants and slipping his fingers beneath it. My breath hitched as his hand moved lower, and I could feel the warmth from his touch radiating through me.

His fingers brushed against my underwear, and I bit my lip to stifle a whimper. Chris's hand slid further, his fingers finding their way to my sensitive clit through the fabric. He gave it a gentle rub, and I felt my knees tremble as a wave of pleasure washed over me.

I couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as I felt Chris's fingers working their magic on me. My lips continued to explore the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses as my hips began to rock gently against his hand.

As Chris's touch became more insistent, I buried my face against his neck to muffle my moans. The sensation of his fingers against my core, coupled with the warmth of his skin and the faint scent of his cologne, was driving me to the edge.

I could feel my breath hitching as Chris's fingers continued to move with purpose. My hips rocked faster against him, and my moans grew louder. I couldn't help but let out a low gasp as he slipped a finger inside me, drawing another wave of pleasure through my body.

“Fuck... Chris...” I whimpered, my voice barely a whisper against his ear. His hand moved with more urgency now, his fingers pumping in and out of me as his thumb circled my swollen nub. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his flesh.

His long, skilled fingers curled inside me, reaching depths that made my breath hitch and my eyes flutter closed. I could feel my core tightening around him, drawing him in deeper as I got closer and closer to the edge. “Chris... it's too much... I can't...”

But Chris wasn't finished yet. He added a second finger, scissoring them inside me as his thumb continued to rub my clit. The sudden stretch and intrusion sent me over the edge, and I came hard against his hand, my body shaking with the intensity of my orgasm.

Chris slipped his hand out of my pants, lifting his glistening fingers to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around them, sucking my essence from his skin as he let out a low, satisfied hum. “You taste so good...”

His hands reached up to unhook my bra, baring my chest to his hungry gaze. He then helped me wiggle out of my pants and underwear, tossing them onto the car floor. His voice was hoarse with desire as he whispered, “I need you, now...”

I reached out and grabbed his belt, fumbling with the buckle as my hands trembled with anticipation. Finally, I managed to undo it and pull his pants open, helping him shove them down his thighs along with his boxers.

Chris took control of the situation. He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, positioning himself at my entrance. His voice was husky as he whispered into my ear, “Are you sure you're ready for this?” I nodded, biting my lip in anticipation.

With slow, gentle movements, Chris eased into me, his strong arms wrapped around my back to support my weight. I gasped at the sensation, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he slowly filled me. “You're so tight...” he groaned, pausing to let me adjust.

After a few moments, I relaxed around him, my body growing used to the new sensation. I took a deep breath and nodded at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. With slow, deliberate movements, Chris began to thrust into me, his hips lifting off the seat as he pulled me down onto him.

I straddled his lap, my hands braced against his chest as he moved beneath me. The motion was intoxicating, his thick length stretching me in ways I never thought possible. I started to rock my hips, moving up and down on his lap as he continued to thrust from beneath.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as the overwhelming pleasure became almost too much to bear. I buried my face in Chris's neck, my breath coming in short gasps as he gripped my hips and drove into me with more urgency. “Chris...”

“Look at me.” I lifted my head, meeting his gaze as he continued to move beneath me. “Breathe with me,” he instructed, taking slow, deep breaths to help guide me through the intense sensation.

“That's it, just like that,” he praised, his voice low and soothing. “You're doing so well, baby. You feel so good... Just a little more, okay?”

I nodded, my tears spilling over as I struggled to keep up with his breaths. Chris wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as he continued to move beneath me. “I've got you, I've got you,” he whispered, his words a soothing balm to my overwhelmed senses.

Chris's grip on my hips tightened, and he started to thrust up into me with more urgency. The car rocked with the force of our movements, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small space. I clung to him, crying out as another wave of pleasure washed over me.

Chris looked up at me, his eyes locked on mine as I hovered above him. He reached up, his fingers brushing against my cheek before he pulled me down for a deep kiss. Our lips met in a frenzy, our tongues dancing together as the car continued to rock beneath us.

The windows of the car began to fog up, condensation building on the glass as the heat inside grew more intense. Chris's touch became firmer, his hands gripping my hips and thighs as he continued to drive into me with increasing urgency.

I reached out, pressing my hands against the foggy window as I held onto it for support. My fingers left a faint handprint on the glass, the condensation making it difficult to see outside. Chris's thrusts became more erratic, the car swerving slightly as he lost control for a moment.

I gasped as Chris's thrusts became more forceful, the sounds of our moans filling the small space of the car. The windows were completely fogged up now, the only light coming from the streetlights outside.

Chris's hands moved to my waist, lifting me up and slamming me back down on his lap with a loud thud. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder as I screamed in ecstasy.

“Fuck Chris, yes! Right there!” I moaned, feeling the build-up of pleasure in my core. Chris grunted in response, gripping onto my hips as he thrust into me.

“You like that, baby?” Chris hissed, his voice hoarse with exertion. “Tell me you love it.” I nodded, my words spilling out in a breathless rush. “Yes, Chris, I love it! Please, more!”

Chris's hands tightened on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he continued to thrust into me. The car shook with the force of our movements, the sound of our moans and the slapping of skin against skin filling the air.

“I'm close, Chris...” I gasped, my breaths coming in short, sharp pants. Chris grunted in response, his thrusts becoming erratic and forceful. Suddenly, we were both pushed over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, Chris buried his face in my neck and groaned loudly. I clung to him, my body convulsing with wave after wave of intense pleasure. The windows of the car were completely fogged up, the only sound the heavy pants of our breath.

I slumped against Chris, my head lolling onto his shoulder as I nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Our chests rose and fell in sync, our hearts beating as one as we slowly came down from our high. Chris wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

We sat there in silence for a while, the car still idling as we caught our breath. Finally, Chris reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “You okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded, my head bobbing against the warm, damp skin of his neck. Chris chuckled softly, his arms tightening around me. “Words, baby. I need to hear your voice,” he murmured. I took a deep, shuddering breath and finally managed to speak. “Mhm...”

Chris's hands began to trace lazy patterns on my back, his touch gentle and soothing. “You were incredible,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my neck. I hummed contentedly, nuzzling into him once more.

I tilted my head up, my eyes fluttering open to meet Chris's gaze. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a slow, tender kiss. It was different from our heated, passionate kisses earlier. This one was gentle, full of affection and warmth.

As I pulled back from the kiss, I found myself lost in my own thoughts, taking in the reality of what had just happened. I had lost my innocence in the back seat of a car with the man I had been secretly pining after for months, and the strangest part was that I didn't regret a moment of it. I knew, deep down, that I wouldn't want to lose it any other way than with Chris.

#★┊[𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒] .ᐟ 🦌₊˚⊹#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #freshl6ve

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girlygguk · 1 month ago

Text

WINTER THINGS ⋆ JJK

it’s jungkook’s favorite time of year and the only thing on his list is you. getting to finally feel you, see you, meet you outside of his computer screen. now it’s happening. and, god, you’re even prettier in person.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 6 of 6

pairing jungkook x gf!reader

genre fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, long distance established relationship, communications major jk, art & design major oc, they’re both gamers who met online, way too much valorant talk, first time meeting in person, simp jk, down bad jk, loser jk, emotionally reserved oc, but jk makes her feel at Ease, kissing, tiddy sucking, pussy fingering, pussy eating, munch jk

word count 4.8k

banner by the amazing @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

author’s note i actually have sooo much more i could do w this couple but the holidays got in the way and i had to wrap er up 🎁 thank u guys sm for all the love ❤️ hope u had a lovely & merry merry christmas!!! :*

Jungkook didn’t mean to die.

He was mid-round, lurking through a corridor, carefully timing a push when a headshot clipped his ass clean. The disappointed groans of his teammates crackled through his headset, but Jungkook barely noticed. Any other time, he would’ve had the guy first. Easy.

But any other time, he didn’t have his gorgeous girlfriend getting ready right there on his very own phone screen.

Your iPad was propped up against one of your hand-painted jewelry boxes, angled just right to catch you sitting in front of your vanity. From the moment you started your makeup, Jungkook had been distracted. Now, all his attention was on you—completely, helplessly.

You were brushing mascara through your lashes, lips slightly parted as you tilted your head back to reach the roots. A soft breath escaped you, and Jungkook’s hand slackened on his mouse. His fingers twitched as his gaze followed the curve of your pouty lips, the slope of your neck, and the fabric of your winter sweater where it clung to your soft figure.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat lightly as the familiar throb in his sweats made itself known. “Shit,” he muttered, tugging at his headset with one hand while the other hovered uselessly over his keyboard.

“Hm?” Your soft, distracted hum broke through the static of his team chat. Your mascara wand hovered mid-swipe as your big eyes flicked toward the camera, your head tilting slightly. “You okay, baby?”

Jungkook scrambled to confirm his mic was off. “Yeah, baby,” he rushed, blinking rapidly as if it might snap him out of the daze he’d fallen into. “You look so pretty.”

Your lips curved faintly, but your attention had already drifted back to your reflection. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning closer to the mirror to perfect the flick of your eyeliner. Jungkook didn’t respond. He just sat there, helpless, watching you like you were the only thing in his world. And you were.

His match was long forgotten, his fingers frozen on his mouse as he soaked in the sight of you framed by the soft purple glow of your LED lights. Dressed in that dark red sweater, getting ready for a friend dinner, you were miles away from him, and still, he felt like he could reach out and fucking touch you.

Three days. Three more days and then he’d finally be on a plane, finally getting to seeing you in person. The thought made his belly rumble with excitement.

It had taken over a year to get here. To go from the quiet, indifferent girl who solo-queued Valorant lobbies to the girlfriend who now wore his hoodies that he sent her in the mail because they smelled like him.

He could still remember the first time he met you. That random day during last winter break when he and his best friend Yoongi had been running games all day and decided to play one more before calling it a night.

You were in that game.

You barely said a word, only responding if spoken to, only comming when absolutely necessary. You were focused, unfazed as you carried the entire team through the match.

Jungkook had always been a hopeless simp. But with you, it was something else entirely. From the moment he heard your sweet, honeyed voice carrying a tone that made it clear you couldn’t give a fuck less about him... yeah, he was a goner.

That game, he’d pushed too far, not expecting the two opponents waiting around the corner. You had been lurking behind Jungkook and killed both enemies before they could even touch him. Your voice was calm, detached, as you told him to follow you.

And he did. Of course he did.

He could still hear the confused hum you’d let out into the mic when he froze on B site, waiting for further instructions from you. As if this wasn’t the second highest rank in the entire game. As if he hadn’t sunk hours into perfecting his gameplay.

“Plant the spike...” you’d said, the slightest hint of frustration in your voice.

Yoongi had laughed. Jungkook had blushed.

“JJ?”

You were propping your iPad against the edge of your drawer now, stepping back from the screen. Jungkook blinked, his brain stuttering as you came into full view. You were wearing a short black skirt paired with the same sweater that had been driving him insane since the moment you pulled it on and let him watch. The hem of the skirt swished lightly as you twirled, tilting your head as you gestured toward yourself.

“Do you like it?” you asked, turning to show how the fabric skimmed over your upper thighs.

Jungkook stared, his big doe eyes wide and dazed. He nodded quickly as heat climbed the back of his neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a very much,” you teased, turning back toward the dresser. You reached for a bracelet, the soft jingle filling the silence as Jungkook tried to scrape together a coherent thought.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed finally, as his fingers flexed restlessly on his desk. “So pretty, baby. What time will you be home?”

You glanced back at the camera, your expression softening. “Thank you, honey,” you said, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist. “Probably around ten? I’ll call you when I’m back.”

Jungkook nodded instantly, his lips lifting into a broad smile as he watched you lean down to slip on your Docs. “Three days,” he chirped.

Your smile deepened, that rare, quiet smile he’d spent months trying to pull from you. “I know, baby,” you said softly, your tone warm as you slipped on your other shoe. “I’m very excited.”

“Me too.” His grin broadened, his cheeks warm and flushed as he flicked his team chat off entirely, ignoring the sound of his teammates yelling at him for going idle. “So excited, baby.”

You picked up your phone, tucking it into your bag before glancing at your iPad one last time. Your soft smile lingered as you said, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, baby,” Jungkook replied softly with a dumb smile.

You blinked down at your device, gaze raking over your boyfriend’s pretty, dazed face before a light laugh escaped your lips. “I love you, JJ.”

His eyes widened, and he almost smacked his forehead for nearly letting you go without saying his favorite three words. “I love you more, baby. Have fun.”

Jungkook watched until the call ended, leaving him staring at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.

Three days. Three more days.

Your fingers tapped idly against the side of your phone, clenched tightly in your hand. Your gaze flicked quietly around your surroundings as your free hand fiddled with the hem of your jacket. You glanced down once more to double-check the text he had sent ten minutes ago.

just landed baby ❤️ waiting for my luggage

You had responded with your exact location by the pickup terminals, a message he had heart-reacted to almost immediately. He shouldn’t be too far now.

Still, the minutes felt endless. You brushed an invisible speck of dust off your black mini dress, your fingers moving to tug at an imaginary thread on your sheer stockings.

Then the sound of a bag dropping beside you jolted you. You spun on your heel and came face to face with the boy who had taken over your life for the past year.

Jungkook stood less than an inch away, a blue puffer jacket shaping his broad frame as the widest grin split across his face. His hair was fluffy, pushed back just enough to reveal his soft forehead, and his big doe eyes sparkled as they took you in.

Your heart lurched, and before you knew it, you were smiling wider than you thought you ever would. Then you were moving. Your hands slid to the sides of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before you could think to stop yourself.

Jungkook melted instantly. A soft groan escaped him as his hands slipped beneath your unzipped jacket, gripping your sides to pull you flush against him. His lips were warm, pressing slowly against yours—soft, sweet, perfect. Just like him.

When you pulled back, his brow creased slightly, and his lips instinctively chased yours. You didn’t deny him, letting him press another kiss to your mouth. Then another. And one more. His lips lingered, each kiss slow and gentle, leaving your eyes closed and your heart racing.

When he finally pulled back, it was with a soft inhale against your lips before he grinned again. “Hi, baby.”

You smiled at the sound of him out of breath, and when Jungkook opened his eyes, his heart stuttered at the sight of it. It was so much prettier in person.

“Hi, JJ. Merry Christmas Eve.”

Your apartment was quiet as you unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch. Jungkook followed closely behind, his gaze sweeping over the room as you led him in.

The walls were dotted with your paintings—abstract swirls of color, faces, little scenes that made him smile. He even recognized a few pieces from your video calls—the tiny clay bunny on your coffee table, the stack of notebooks filled with sketches you showed him if he begged cutely enough.

Jungkook grinned as he stepped further inside, dropping his bag on the ground near the entryway while you shut the door behind him. He toed off his sneakers next to the mat as you leaned down to unzip one of your boots, your fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. You wobbled.

Straight into him.

Jungkook caught you immediately, his hands firm as they wrapped around your sides. His heart stuttered in time with your misstep, his chest tightening as your loosely curled hair spilled toward him, brushing over your shoulder. You looked up at him, your voice soft as you murmured, “sorry.”

He barely heard it. You were so close, he could smell you—the warm, sweet honey scent of your skin mixed with a perfume that reminded him of dark berries.

“You smell so good.”

You’ve straightened now, fully upright as you met his gaze. His hands still lingered under your jacket, the heat of his palms seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his smile faint and dreamy.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Glossy, the faint sheen of lip balm somehow still intact despite all the kisses he had stolen in the back of the Uber when the driver wasn’t looking.

“Yeah,” you confirmed quietly, your lashes lowering as your gaze traced his features, taking him in like you were seeing him for the first time.. “Smell just like the hoodies,” you murmured, “but better. Stronger.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, his touches growing greedier. His hands slid a little lower down your sides as he leaned toward you, his pretty nose brushing yours.

“Did you bring more?” you asked, your words a soft breath against his mouth.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod, his lips hovering so close you could almost taste them. “Three. Is that enough?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and then you couldn’t wait anymore. You closed the gap.

Your hands slipped up to wrap around his neck, and Jungkook let out a soft noise that vibrated into your mouth. His hands slid further under your jacket, palms pressing firmly against your waist as he pulled you flush against his body. His lips parted against yours, and when your tongues brushed, the softest, sweetest sound escaped you. Ssstraight to his cock.

Your fingers twisted into the back of his hair, and Jungkook groaned pathetically into the kiss. His hands slid down from your hips to the back of your thighs, lifting you to wrap your legs around him. When your tongue lapped his again, your head tilting to taste more of him, the whimpery noise he let out was pitiful. You loved it.

Neither of you spared a thought for the boot that slipped from your foot as he carried you until your back met the door with a soft thump. The kiss was messy, noisy, desperate as you both moaned into each other’s mouths. It felt like you were making up for all the nights apart, all the times you had to settle for fucking yourselves over FaceTime, getting off together but never really together.

Your mouth broke away from his, your head falling back against the door as you panted softly. Jungkook didn’t miss a beat, his lips eagerly brushing along your jaw as his hips pressed forward. The hard line of his cock rubbed against your pussy through the denim of his jeans, pulling a shaky breath from your lips.

“I can’tt, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, whiny if you will. His hips rolled again as his hands gripped you tighter. “You’re so soft. Smell so good. I fucking can’t.”

“Why are you holding back?” you breathed, your voice trembly as your hips ground against him, forcing a choked sound from his lips. “We’ve been so patient, honey... You can have it now.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath before his mouth was back on yours, needy as he licked into you, relishing in the sounds you gave him. His greedy hands roamed, sliding under the hem of your dress, up the soft skin of your thighs, until they landed where your stockings ended. Your ass.

This fucking ass.

The ass he's stared at so many times through so many screens. The ass he's watched jiggle just a little as he jerked his cock while you held a vibrator to your clit, your hips shaking as you came for him. The ass he's praised and admired in all the pairs of panties you tried on just for him—ones he had ordered for you, or ones you bought yourself, saying you had another haul to show him if he wanted to see.

If he wanted to see? God, it was like you didn’t even know him sometimes.

He's fantasised about this ass more times than he could fucking count. And now, it was in his handsss.

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fatty flesh as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your nails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck, swallowing his little whine as you grinded harder against his crotch.

“Fuckk, baby,” he breathed against your tongue, arms tightening around your bum to lift you off the wall. This time he carried you to the couch with hurried steps, your jacket slipping further from your shoulders with each movement.

When he reached the couch, he laid you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he hovered above you. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants, his lips red and swollen. He sat back on his knees, dragging a hand through his messy hair, the glow of his flushed skin making him look unreal. For a moment you wonder if this really was happening. If he really was here.

You sat up slightly, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the ground as Jungkook’s hands found your remaining boot. He tugged at the zipper, easing it off your foot before tossing it to join the growing pile of clothes on your fuzzy, multicolored rug—the rug he mentally noted to tell you he really likes when you two were done.

His gaze flicked to yours briefly before he grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The fabric caught slightly at the back of his neck, making him huff softly before it joined the pile. So cute.

Your eyes immediately dropped to his broad chest, and a teasing smile curled your lips as your gaze caught on his nipples, the small, dark buds already hardening from the slight chill of your flat. You couldn’t help it; you’d always had a fascination with them—something he learned quickly during your video calls that turned dirtier, filthier, the more you did them.

Jungkook caught your look, his lips parting as his chest rose in shallow breaths. “Don’ttt, baby,” he grumbled, a flush spreading from his neck to his round cheeks.

You just smirked, leaning back against the couch, letting him take you in. Your dress was gone, leaving you in nothing but your bra, panties, and the cute little red-and-green anklet socks you’d worn under your stockings. For some reason, they made his cock swell even harder in his pants.

What? He loves Christmas...

Jungkook leaned down to find your lips, his hands pressing into the cushion on either side of you. His body slotted perfectly between your legs, his hips grinding into yours as he groaned softly into your mouth. You could feel his cock harden against you, pressing deeper into your warm core, and a moan slipped out, legs tightening around his waist.

His lips trailed down, kissing along your jaw, then your neck, stopping at the hollow of your throat to suck. His gaze dropped further, locking on your chest. He stilled, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Godd,” he muttered, his voice thick with pure awe. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly, pupils blown. “You’re so fucking…”

But he couldn’t even finish. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing the tops of your boobs as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it hastily, the straps sliding down your arms before he pulled it away, tossing it to the ground with a fucking gulp.

Jungkook exhaled heavily through his nose, his eyes drinking in every bit of your soft, bare skin. He wanted to ask if he could take a picture... but that thought could wait. God, it had to wait.

“Fuckkk,” he said again, this time louder, a soft groan escaping his lips. A quiet laugh escaped yours in response as his head dipped right down.

He kissed the swell of your breast, his big, warm tongue flicking out to circle your nipple slowly. His pouty lips closed around it, suckling softly, and he let out the most whimpery sound you’d ever heard from him—and your boyfriend had made a lot of those.

His hand cupped your other breast, his thumb brushing over the hardening bud before rolling it gently between his fingers. A quiet whine slipped from your lips, your back arching as his tongue swirled and flicked. His mouth grew hungrier, movements more eager as he switched sides, long fingers kneading the plush flesh while he nipped, licked, and lapped.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, pushing more of your boob into his mouth, which he accepted with a happy choke. Your breaths came faster, your hands tangling into his hair as he detached from your nipple with a soft pop. Wet kisses trailed lower, across your ribs, down your soft stomach. His lips brushed over the flesh there, his tongue darting out for a little taste, before he reached waistband of your panties.

He glanced up at you with wet eyes and shiny lips, a soft flush painting his cheeks. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties, quickly pulling them down. The air against your core made you shiver, and Jungkook groaned softly at the way your hole clenched in response to the cold.

His hands adjusted your thighs on either side of his head, ensuring you were comfy, and when you smiled down at him, he beamed back before pressing a little kiss to your inner thigh and dipping down.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, dragging right up your folds before circling your clit lightly. Your thighs tensed immediately, a little cry spilling from your lips as your hands clutched tighter into his hair.

He groaned into you as his hands spread your thighs wider, holding them open against the couch when they treatened to close. His tongue moved with one goal, dragging down and back up, his throat bobbing as he swallowed every drop of slick you were making for him.

“Sh-shit, baby,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking noisily. “Shittttt, JJ—”

You couldn’t finish the thought. The way Jungkook switched between licking and sucking, his big nose pressing firmly against your clit, made any coherent words evaporate. He buried himself deeper into your pussy, breathing you in as he ate. Like, literal deep inhales. You could feel them.

Your hips bucked up instinctively, a movement that pulled a surprised, happy whine from his throat. He dragged his tongue down, dipping it into your little clenching hole, before sliding it back up to circle your clit with eager, sloppy flicks. Your jaw tilted up, your head pressing harder into the couch cushion as the pleasure bloomed in your belly, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

“Is it fucked that this is exactly what I thought it would taste like?” Jungkook mumbled through his mouthful. He pulled back just enough to breathe the words, his pretty mouth and chin glistening, tongue darting out again, lapping at your slick like he couldn’t fucking stop. “It’s so fucking good, Y/n. God, have you tried this, baby?”

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan slipped from your lips, your head falling back again as your fingers twisted into his hair. “Baby, please,” you started, your voice shaky as your hips jerked up again, “shut u—uhhhh.”

The last part of your sentence dissolved into a grunt as Jungkook slipped a thick middle finger inside you, curling it just, stroking your walls while he suckled at your clit. He whined at the feeling of your plushy walls coating his finger, his big tongue lapping up and down while pumping the digit deeper.

When he pushed it in to the knuckle, the throatiest, loudest moan tore from your lips, and Jungkook moaned right the fuck back, his lips vibrating around your clit as his eyes fluttered shut. He felt the spongy plush of your g-spot with the tip of his finger, and he swears to fuck his cock started to cry.

His hips shifted against the couch as his big eyes watched your hole clench around his digit. “Woahh, baby,” he mumbled, his voice thick with wonder. “So pretty. Pictured my fingers in your pussy so many times. This is crazyyy, baby.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re really cute, JJ. But I’ve been waiting for this for a year... Let’s cum first, and then we can talk about how crazy it all is, okay, honey?”

Your hands tugged harder at his hair, knowing how much he liked it from the times you’d discussed kinks and likes over phone calls. Jungkook practically purred at the sting and your words. He didn’t think he’d ever agreed with something more in his entire life.

When he added a second finger, the stretch made you fucking shudder. His fingers were so long, so thick, filling you so well that your thighs clamped around him instantly. He didn’t mind—he loved it, in fact. His moan vibrated wetly against your cunt as he spread his fingers slightly, fucking them into your hole harder.

“Fuckkk yes, babyy,” you whimpered, your back arching off the couch. Your hands tugged at his hair, your hips grinding against his face as your stomach tightened. “That’s itttt, baby. That’s fucking it.”

“Mmmmf,” he moaned, his tongue flicking over your slippery clit as his fingers pumped in and out, the wet squelch of your juices echoing as he lapped them up eagerly.

Your breath hitched, your moans morphing into sharp little cries as his hand tilted just slightly, the angle of his fingers brushing your puffy spot every fucking time.

“Fuck, JJ, fuck, fuck, fuckkk—”

He pulled you closer with his free hand, gripping your soft thigh as his tongue worked faster, licking and munching at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten all day.

“Baby,” you cried, your head tipping back. “I’m sorry, JJ, I—I’m gonna cummm, fuckkk! I’m sorr—yyyyy!” Your words dissolved into a high pitched squeal as your body convulsed, your pussy pressing desperately against his face. The orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, leaving you trembling and shaking into the couch.

Jungkook whined greedily at the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers, the fluttering grip making him thrust against the cushion for relief. He pushed his fingers as far into you as they could go, curling them up inside to drag every last bit of pleasure while his mouth suctioned hard around your throbbing clit. He followed your pussy as it quivered and tried to escape the stimulation, his throat bobbing happily as he swallowed all your slick.

His fingers slowed, his tongue moving gently as he lapped up everything, your hips jerking softly against his face, which made him smile cutely.

When you finally stilled, your breathing uneven, he pulled back with a little pop. His lips and chin were soaked, his hair a mess from where your hands had tugged at it, but his eyes were so bright. He licked his lips, a cute bunny grin spreading across his face as he looked up at you.

“Can’t believe you apologized for cumming, baby. That was so hot.”

You were both sitting on the floor next to the little Christmas tree Jungkook had helped you put together—your first Christmas tree ever.

Your parents weren’t ones to celebrate the holidays, and the season had always felt like a chore, something to just get through. But your boyfriend loved it, and he had a way of making you like things you didn’t think you cared about before.

The heater was cranked high, both of you showered and warm, now dressed in the matching Christmas pajamas Jungkook had bought for you guys in his hometown. The living room smelled like cinnamon from the gingerbread cookies you’d baked earlier, another absolute must Jungkook insisted on for the holidays.

It was all very cute. The mess, the lack of an apron, the flour smudged across his cheek that he didn’t notice. He looked so happy, his face bright as he popped a misshapen cookie into his mouth and declared it perfect. He was right. It was perfect.

Now, you're plopping a wrapped gift into his lap, curling your knees to your chest as you watched him with wide eyes. He grinned down at the box, his fingers brushing over the carefully taped edges before looking back at you.

“Baby, it’s so heavy. You went over budget, didn’t you?” he asked. “That’s okay—I did too.” He rambled on giddily, and you stayed quiet, maybe a little nervous, as his eager hands tore open the paper.

And then, for the first time since you’d met the rambly boy, he went silent.

Your gaze swept over his face, your hand lifting to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear as you tried to gauge his reaction. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes flicking down to the gift in his lap—a framed painting, the one you’d spent weeks working on in secret.

The longer the silence stretched, the more your nerves prickled. Then, his eyes started to well.

“Honey, it’s not meant to be a sad paint—”

“I know, baby!” he cried, his voice trembling as he sniffled. He set the painting gently on the floor before surging forward, pulling you into his lap.

“JJ,” you cooed through a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in your shoulder. His wet hair tickled your skin as you kissed his cheek. “You like it?”

“I love it so fucking much,” he mumbled into your neck, his voice thick. “Oh my god, I love it so much. You fucking painted me? Are you kidding me? Fuck my gift! Oh, fuck it! This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten. I look like such a shitty, thoughtless boyfriend now. Fucking paintbrushes, oh for fucks—”

“Baby,” you scolded gently, your lips brushing his temple. His arms only tightened around you. “I love your gift so much. Remember? I almost cried… You pointed it out.”

He sniffled, leaning back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and glassy. “Swear?”

“Swear, my love.” You nodded, running a hand through his damp curls. “I’m only going to use them exclusively when I paint you from now on.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, his eyes widening a little. Then he pouted, his wet lashes batting at you as you kissed him softly on the lips. “I know you’re joking,” he muttered, “but that kind of turns me on.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled, your arms looping tighter around his neck as you pressed another peck to his pout. “Merry Christmas, JJ.”

His lips pulled into a big bunny grin, fingers spread over the small of your back. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

aaaaand that is IT for christmas & chill!!! aside from the breakdowns and delays on my part (who’s surprised Not me), i’ve had sooo much fun and will forever cherish this series. not just because it helped me connect w so many of you sweetiepies over the holiday period, but because it brought me closer to you, my piccola @lovieku. we all have u and ur beautiful, polymath mind to thank for c&c. love you baby

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

Text

A Christmas Prince (2017)- c.leclerc

₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: When a young aspiring journalist is sent abroad to cover a a coronation, she hears rumours about the 'Prince of F1' and goes undercover to investigate them.

pairing: prince! charles leclerc x fem! reader

9.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You jumped up from your desk as soon as you saw him, and trailed him through the office. “Excuse me, sorry- Ron?!”

He turned to you. “Not now.”

“This will just take a second, I just have some questions about your article? The fashion week piece that I’m editing?”

He groaned, clearly uninterested in giving you the time of day. “Go for it.”

Nevertheless, you continued on. How could someone who makes so many noticeable mistakes have a higher job than you? How could someone so self-centred and rude be in that position of power? “The main problem is that Max wanted 300 words, and you’ve written 600, and also the models and designers you quoted weren’t even at the event so…”

“Y/n,” he sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now, just go off and fix it? Yeah?” he smiled, that punchable, asshole smile, and walked off. You rolled your eyes.

Working as a journalist bitch was not your plan when you moved to New York, but alas, your rent does not magically pay itself. Categorically, you enjoyed your job. Decent pay, good co-workers (minus asshole Ron), and it was pretty cool to be in one of the high-rise offices of New York, especially around Christmas. But… the whole getting to write articles part wasn’t something you got to do. You were an editor now, not a journalist. It was… slightly infuriating to know that someone less qualified got paid more money to write shit that you always ended up rewriting for him, but as we mentioned before, bills don’t pay themselves.

“Let me guess, you’re going to completely rewrite the article and save his ass?” Damon, your best friend, asked.

You faked a smile. “It’s almost like that’s my job!”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell him to shove it,” he scoffed. “Any of us could write that better- with our eyes closed!”

You groaned as you sat down.

“How the fuck are you ever going to be taken seriously as a real journalist if you are such a good editor?” he added. “He’ll never promote you if you’re always going to stay as his bitch.”

The ding of your laptop ended the conversation

Max wants you in her office- NOW!

“Oh fuck,” you said under your breath.

“What?” Damon asked, looking over your shoulder. “Oh… good luck.”

You walked into her glass office, praying to something to make this as painless as possible. “If this is because of Ron’s article-”

“It’s not, sit down. I have something else for you,” she smiled. You followed her instructions and stared at her, unused to the kindness. “What do you know about the Royal Family of Monaco?”

“Monaco?” you wracked your brain. “The King died a few years ago, the new King just got married, and the other two are racecar drivers, right?”

“Exactly, anything about the second eldest Prince?” she mused.

You grimaced. “He’s more loyal to Ferrari than his girlfriends and he’s a royal disgrace?”

She grinned. “Yes! Exactly that! Obviously, Charles moved off from the royal duties a long time ago, but Lorenzo has decided to abdicate since his fiance has fallen ill, in Monaco there’s a rule that the throne can be uncrowned for one year and it turns out Lorenzo abdicated in December last year.”

“So Charles has to take the throne?” you asked. “But he’s a driver there’s no way he’d… what happens then?”

She smirked. “That’s exactly what you’re going to find out! His Royal Highness is due back at the Castle this weekend, but in case he also abdicates, I need someone to write on it! There’s a press conference on the 18th, and I want your boots on the ground!”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why me?” you smiled, genuinely curious.

“You’re intelligent, talented, hungry for a story- also none of my regular writers are willing to give up their Christmas,” she admitted. You nodded, knowing you were a last resort.

“Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

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“He’s gorgeous!” Damon fawned over the pictures of him.

You shrugged. “He’s such a douche, I cannot believe people still find him attractive after all the stuff he’s done.”

“Who wouldn't forgive a face and body like that?”

You looked at the photos. Yes, he was conventionally attractive, but his track record of scorned girlfriends, and the semi-awful fashion sense (who , over the age of 12, still wears tie dye jeans?) put you off. “He’s not my type.”

He stared at you. “He’s everyone’s type. Everyone is a Ferrari fan, and everyone is a Charles LeClerc fan.”

“I still don’t see it,” you shrugged.

“You should try to seduce him! Make him your husband and just excuse all the cheating so you can be royal and rich,” he suggested.

“I do not want that,” you scoffed. “Plus, I’m not on the market right now.”

He groaned. “You two broke up a whole year ago. Don’t let him yuck your yum 12 months on!”

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You walked into Rudy’s, your dad’s diner, you couldn’t but feel the weight of the conversation you were just about to have. You had spent Christmas as just the two of you every year since your mom had passed, you didn’t want to just leave him alone. The regulars raved about the pies as you stepped in from the cold, snowy air.

“The usual?” your dad asked, you nodded and smiled, waving to some of the regulars you knew. “How are you doing sweetie?”

“Good, great!” You smiled, plastering on your best ‘i’m fine!’ face.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned. You deflated.

“I have good news and bad news,” you explained.

“Bad news first,” he decided.

“I won’t be here on Christmas- but, It’s because I got my first story.”

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “That’s amazing! Your first real story! This is your big break!”

“You don’t mind that I’ll miss Christmas?”

He shook his head. “This is your big break, take it. Don’t worry about me. You go over to wherever, and you make me proud.”

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, and thanked him.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The flight was long and uncomfortable, thus the joys of economy, and the dickhead that stole your cab wasn’t much nicer either.

You and the rest of the press were all then bundled into cars and brought to the palace.

“First time?” The reporter beside you questioned. You nodded your head, slightly embarrassed about the fact that they could tell, but he just chuckled. “Word to the wise, pick a new career.”

The rest of the car was an eruption of laughter, small agreements, or a scoff. You chuckled along, but you couldn’t help but feel small. You were the only woman in your car, the only new reporter, and-

Woah. Holy shit.

The Monaco Palace.

Any and all other thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as you stared in awe at the beautiful structure. The wide windows and beautiful pillars, all decorated perfectly for Christmas. Though it wasn’t snowing (like back home), you did appreciate the gesture of making it feel like Christmas. You were enchanted by the palace, it stood tall on the edge of the bay, fitting in perfectly with the rest of the gorgeous scenery.

You walked in behind the rest of the press, a nervous energy buzzing in the air. Prince Charles was an F1 favourite, a master of the sport, and now he had to give it all up for the crown. Everyone was more than excited to see if he’d actually show up, which seemed increasingly unlikely as the moments ticked away. He did every single piece of press Ferrari or the FIA asked him to do, and he seemed to enjoy the majority of them, but the second the palace asked him to do something, he was ‘too busy’. It left a bad taste in your mouth. You were exactly a patriot, but you thought that one should at least appreciate the fact that they were a part of their country, and the people deserved to hear from their Prince, not only through sports interviews. He’d been photoshopped into the palace's Christmas cards for the past 4 years, for god’s sake.

You pushed your opinion of him to the side and turned your attention to the palace. The tall white walls and arched ceilings, the beautiful and historic artwork hanging off the walls, god, you’d give anything to be allowed free reign in here with your camera. Your attention was then grabbed by the PR liaison, Penelope, standing at the panel desk looking increasingly nervous.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, the repress started getting restless. Lorenzo was never late. Hervé had never been late. Pascale was never late. Arthur was never late. Charles was the outlier. He slept with too many women, drank too much, and ‘disgraced the crown’, according to the Monegasque reporters beside you. You didn’t care much for all of the gossip pages he frequented, and only watched F1 on the occasion that your father wanted to watch it. But, it was clear that he thought that following his dreams of being a racecar driver were more important than his duties, and while you understood the push and pull of having a dream, there were also expectations to meet, and he didn’t meet them.

“We regret to inform you that this press conference has been cancelled-”

She was cut off by about 200 reporters shouting and groaning.

You politely raised your hand, and all eyes turned to you. “When can we expect the press conference to be rescheduled?” You asked and the room was alive again, this time, in agreement.

“As of right now, we won’t be rescheduling,” she offered a polite smile as everyone collectively groaned again.

“Well can we at least expect a date at which he’ll be crowned?”

“He will be crowned on Christmas Eve, at the annual Christmas Ball,” she smiled.

“Which is a private event, so what are we to tell your people? They can’t see him getting crowned as their next king? No media are allowed in, no cameras, phones are barely allowed. What will your people think?” you questioned, your voice dripping with condescension. The rest of the reporters cheered you on, no one had stood up against his behaviour before. No one.

She faltered, and then the room started being cleared by security, much to the chagrin of the rest of you. You were kicked out, a collection of grumbles and groans, knowing Christmas was ruined because of some stupid Prince and his childish antics.

You couldn’t go home empty handed. You’d never get a chance like this again, so breaking and entering into the Monaco Palace wasn’t that bad of a crime, right?

You came into a long hallway, the marble walls and floors taking your full attention, until you came across a picture. It was the royal family, a picture of the five of them, taken before Hervé passed. Charles was only 20, Arthur was only 16. Lorenzo was 29. And they lost their father. In the photo, they’re sitting at a dinner table, looking happy. It didn’t look posed, or professionally taken. It looked like it had been taken on an iphone. Charles was smiling bright, his arm around his little brother and his father. Lorenzo’s arm around Pascale as she held Arthur’s hand. Charles was truly the thing that dragged you in. His bright smile, eyes crinkled at the edges, laughing so hard he must’ve felt sick. The way everyone else’s eyes were on him. He was like a magnet. Not because of his good looks or lovably dorky personality, but because of something else. He was just… interesting.

“Can I help you?” a security guard asked, his voice booming and strong. You jumped.

“Gosh! Sorry, umm-yes-no-um-”

“American?” he asked, and you were sure you were busted. But then he smiled. “Follow me.”

You followed him through the halls until you were in front of a tall woman with brunette hair. You knew who she was, her name was Georgia, the palace coordinator. She was terrifying to stand in front of. You’d never felt so judged in your life.

“You’re the new tutor?” she questioned. You just nodded. “I thought you couldn’t come until January?”

“My last job finished up early,” you lied. A sinking pit in your stomach started growing, but you just swallowed it. You’d deal with it later.

“Oh,” she smiled. “Perfect, I’ll bring you to meet him,” she smiled.

What were you getting yourself into?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Turns out Arthur LeClerc needed a tutor to help with his engineering course. Thank god you’d dated that engineer who wanted to mansplain every single part of a car to you, and you could get by the maths with a calculator. Arthur wasn’t exactly a fan of having someone younger than him tutor him, he felt stupid, you could tell. You did everything you could to reassure him that it truly was alright to need help, and he was starting to come around, but every time you two really started talking, Charles would appear. And yes, Charles had been that asshole who’d taken your cab at the airport. Even more of a reason to hate him.

“Arthur!” Charles called up as you finished explaining a sum, which he was finally getting, but of course, Charles had to distract him. “Sim work?” he offered, popping his head in the door. You frowned. He was clean-shaven, unlike the small goatee and mustache he’d been sporting before. Objectively, he was attractive either way, but you personally preferred the facial hair.

He frowned back at you. “What?”

Arthur attempted to get up to join his brother, but you held him down to his seat with a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

“What?” you repeated. “Arthur is busy with lessons, your Royal Highness, you can come back in 2 hours, when he’s finished,” you smile politely, though your tone was less than warm.

“2 hours?” Arthur sighed, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m not the one who failed their midterm,” you said, matter-of-factly. He nodded, agreeing.

“Why did you look at me like that?” Charles smirked, walking into the study.

“Like what?” you asked, engrossed in the work, trying to decipher Arthur’s handwriting.

“Like you didn’t like what you saw,” he mused.

You scoffed. “I was just surprised by the baby face, that’s all.”

He frowned, making Arthur laugh. “Baby face?”

“You look like a 12 year old boy without facial hair, it freaks me out,” you pointed out.

Charles left the room with whatever dignity he still had intact, and you and Arthur rather enjoyed the teasing.

“Will you be my guest tonight?” he turned to you, discarding his work.

“What’s tonight?” you asked.

“Some boring drinks and dinner thing with the whole of Charles’s team, and other nobility. It’s going to be such a chore to go without you, please come?”

You smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You kind of hated the whole ‘double agent’ thing. You were getting on really well with Arthur, Charles was enough to stomach (in small intervals), and Lorenzo had been too busy to really meet. Georgia had been on you about different things, but you always had to remember that a) your name was in fact not Y/n, but Martha. And b) You still had to be a reporter. You still had to break into these people’s privacy, and make it a story. You were pretty sure what you were doing was illegal in America, so you were just hoping it wasn’t a crime here. As the night went on you snapped pictures of Pascale, Lorenzo, some of the other nobility and some of the important F1 drivers (a friend was doing an expose on one of them for cheating so… yeah). You didn’t catch a glimpse of his Royal (pain-in-the-ass) Highness all night, that was, until he made an(uncharacteristically (not)) late arrival. You also left Arthur to go hang out with his girlfriend, who had surprised him this weekend by arriving a whole week early.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Arthur smiled, walking up behind you as you tried to take photos of the nobility as secretly as possible. You quickly hid your phone.

“Very much so, thank you for inviting me,” you smiled.

“Staring at Charles?” he questioned, noticing how you’d been following him around the room.

“Trying to find something to eat,” you lied. Again, that pit in your stomach grew every single day that you were at the palace. “Not a fan of the meat-jelly.”

He grimaced. “Me neither, follow me.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Possibly the best gingerbread cookies entered your mouth soon after. “Wow,” you nodded, and he smiled back. You stared at him. “Where’s Jade?”

“She’s off with her friends,” he answered, but you knew it was a guess.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You hated me three days ago,” you chuckled.

“You’re not like everyone here,” he shrugged. “You’re normal.”

You smiled. “I know I’m, normal, btu so are you-”

“A ‘normal’ 24 year old who has a palace and a crown, as well as an affinity for racing cars. I’m so normal.”

You laughed. “No one’s perfect.”

Then a tall man, who looked a little bit like Arthur, joined you.

“Cousin Arthur,” he smiled.

“Cousin Simon,” he sighed, less than impressed with having to see him.

Simon looked at you, slightly confused. “Was your mother feeling charitable, inviting the chambermaids again?” he joked, but it wasn’t funny. Arthur didn't laugh, he groaned.

“She’s my tutor, actually. And I invited her. Mrs. Martha Whelan, meet my cousin, Simon.”

You stood up and held your hand out to be shook, but he shied away. “Nice to meet you Simon.”

“You can address me as Lord Dukesburg,” he explained, taking great offence. Ah, this was Simon Dukesburg, the man who has been after the throne since Arhtur’s father died. He said some of the most out-of-touch shit about Lorenzo, saying he couldn’t be the King because he wasn’t Herve’s blood-related son.

“I find that nobility who require someone to use their title might be compensating for something,” Charles interjected, making you stifle a laugh, whereas Arthur laughed out loud.

“And what might I be compensating for?” he scoffed.

“I wonder,” Charles smirked. Then someone else interjected the conversation and pulled the both of them away from you and Arthur.

“Simon hates Charles,” Arthur explained. “He’s ahead of him in the succession, since it goes by age, not actual blood relation, he’s ahead of me.”

“So if Charles abdicates, Simon has the throne?” you questioned.

Arthur nodded. You looked up at the two men again, and found Charles already looking back at you. You offered a small smile, which was returned, then you turned back to Arthur.

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“I'm really not sure there’s any dirt here,” you sighed, explaining it for the millionth time to your boss.

She wasn’t having it. You ended the call feeling even worse than before. Honestly, you were one day away from just leaving the palace all together and admitting your crimes. It was eating you up inside, you could barely sleep, barely eat. It was all a little bit too much for you. You understood that reporters had to be cut-throat, but god, it was hard work pretending to be someone you weren't, especially to people as kind as the LeClerc’s. As you walked through the halls of the palace, unable to sleep, you heard some piano music. You followed the sound and found Prince Charles at his piano, incredibly talented. Sadly, it ended the second he noticed you, about 30 seconds of you being there.

“Sorry for interrupting, your Royal Highness,, I’ll head back-”

“Call me Charles,” he smiled.

Slightly blind-sided, you weren’t sure what to say. “That was beautiful,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” he smiled, getting up. “My father made me take lessons. It’s a great passion of mine.”

“I’ve heard your father was a great man,” you smiled.

“He was,” Charles agreed..

“Won’t be easy to replace him,” you mused, hoping he would give you something, anything worth writing the story over.

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he explained. “No one could.”

“Oh god! No, I didn’t mean it like that- just… there must be a lot of pressure on you, I didn’t mean it…” you trailed off and he smiled.

“Well, you’re under more pressure than you bargained for, right?” he smirked.

Shit. He knew. Somehow. He knew. You were bout to get arrested by the fucking Prince of Monaco. How embarrassing.

“My brother can really be a handful,” he chuckled.

You took a deep breath. He didn’t know. You were safe, for now at least. You chuckled. “He’s actually pretty great.”

“After our father died, he took it very hard,” he explained.

“I lost my mom, same age and everything,” you explained, a flat smile on your face.

He nodded. “So you know what it’s like then.”

You nodded. “Holidays are the worst.”

“I’m glad he has someone to talk to.”

“So, now that you’re back… is it for good? Arthur talks about you all the time. He misses you when you’re gone. Is all that talk about abdication just… rumors?” you questioned, feeling like the worst human being in the world for manipulating this family the way you were. They were good people. Maybe yes, they’re rich and commit tax fraud, but good people.

He sighed. “It’s very hard to know what to do.”

FUCK!

Great. So there is a story. Ideal. It’s not like if he’d just said, ‘yes, they’re all just rumors’, you could’ve gone home and never had to think about the awful things you’ve done here, but now you have to stay, to listen to him. Great.

“I heard you didn’t want to give your… lifestyle,” you asked. “Is that true?”

“What lifestyle is that?” he scoffed, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. The women, wine, and cars?”

“Is that what you think I am?” he chuckled.

“I don’t know who you are, Charles, but if your brother is any indication, I wouldn’t exactly believe everything I read. Good night.”

And with that you left the room, feeling like a terrible person, and he was more than intrigued by you.

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Christmas Eve rolled closer and closer, and every night seemed to be one of celebration. You decorated the tree with the family (aka you sat in the corner not eating or drinking because of the guilt, and watched over Arthur, making sure he was alright).

“To family and friends,” Pascale smiled.

“And new friends!” Arthur called, lifting your hand. You smiled at him, thankful that you had a friend there.

“What are your traditions Martha?” Charles asked, turning attention to you.

“Well, my father and I light a candle and we bake my mothers favourite cookies,” you explained, a smile on your face. “I know how it feels to… have someone missing during traditions,” you assured Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Just then, Lady Sophia appeared in the doorway. Lady Sophia, Charles’s childhood best friend and the leading lady of the greatest will-they-won’t-they story of all time. She wore a beautiful long flowing gown with a present in hand for Pascale. She elegantly dodged cousin Simon’s advances (you applauded her for that), and went straight to Pascale and Charles.

“Sophia, it’s lovely to see you,” she smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s lovely to see you too,” she smiled, then moved on to Charles. “Charles, good to see you.”

Charles greeted her with his best flirty smirk, and Arthur turned to you, fake gagging, which made you both laugh. All eyes turned to the two of you for a moment, before you quickly shut up, and the greetings continued. Lady Sophia was staying for Christmas, how wonderful. Maybe you could get an early access to their engagement story- god you felt sick with yourself.

You turned to Arthur engrossed in the small toy car he had in his hands, a gift from his father, he spoke about it as you listened, barely noticing Charles over both of your shoulders.

“I remember when you first got that,” he chuckled, ruffling Arthur’s hair. “You were so happy with it, you wanted to be just like dad.”

“Now you are,” you smiled, squeezing Arthur;’s hand. He’d be moving up to F1 next year, in a Haas seat (Esetban Ocon shit the bed, oops), and Arthur was the next best Ferrari junior driver. Arthur beamed back at you, and Charles gave himself a moment to study you.

You were so gentle, so smart, so kind, so… you. He was entranced by you. You were some sort of enigma. He didn’t want to sound full of himself, but women did throw themselves at him, it was a simple fact, and you didn’t. You weren’t interested in him at all, in fact. It was refreshing.

“Charles!” Lady Sophie called. “Will you put my ornament on the tree?”

He (begrudgingly) took his eyes off of you and joined her at the side of the tree. Funnily enough, her ornament was a heart.

“Be gentle with it,” she told him, and he sighed, knowing it wasn’t just the ornament she was talking about.He placed it on the ree and when he looked back at you, you were already engrossed in conversation with Arthur about something else and he thought it best not to pry. You barely liked him as is, he shouldn’t push his luck.

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The day you get bossed around by Arthur LeCerc may actually be the biggest joke of your life. He found out that you were a journalist, and he didn’t even care. He just… wanted a friend, and for you to write the truth about his brother. Which you were happy to oblige.

So, instead of going over aerodynamics, you baked Christmas cookies.

“What’s with Charles and Lady Sophia?” you questioned, shovelling some of the batter into your mouth. Arthur shrugged.

“She’s had a crush on him for ages, but he’s never liked her back,” he shrugged, eating some of the icing. “She’s always trying to get with him though.”

“Simon seems to like her,” you pointed out, shooing him away from the icing (he’d eaten half of it).

Arthur groaned. “Simon has wanted everything Charles has had since they were 3. He even tried go-karting. He was shit though,” he chuckled. “But y’know, everyone wants what we have.”

You cracked a smile. “You are the royal family of one of the most beautiful countries in Europe.”

Arthur sighed. “It was different though, before my dad died, it was-” he cut himself off, trying to to cry. You pulled him into a hug.

“He’s not gone Arthur, you’ll always remember him,” you smiled, he nodded against your neck. “Come on, we need to get these in the oven before I eat all of the batter.”

He laughed, joining you beside the oven.

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The next morning was the children’s fundraiser, where everyone was expected to be a guest. You, again, were Arthur’s, Jade having left a few days earlier to spend time with her family. One of those asshole reporters came up to you, but he got them away, and you knew that by tomorrow, people would already assume you were his new girlfriend, or something along those lines, so you made sure to tell him to talk about Jade in interviews. After the wonderful carol service, Pascale came out to the stage and addressed the public, announcing Charles’s speech.

When she called his name, he didn’t show.

Arthur sighed, grabbing your hand and running you to the Orphanage. There he was, playing with the children. He looked so… happy. He was telling them about every corner in the Monaco Grand Prix, and telling them what it felt like to win it. They all sat around him, listening intently, desperate to hear from him. You took out your phone and took a photo, seeing a tiny glimpse of that same 20 year old boy from the picture.

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“Charles, help me understand why you were unable to carry out your duty today?” Pascale asked, exasperated with her son.

“I thought my duty was to those children,” his words bit through the tension in the air.

“There is much more to being kind than simply compassion,” she sighed. “You need to be strong, a leader. You need to be someone that those people can look up to and say, ‘that’s my king, and he can make the hard decisions’. Not someone who tiptoes around his duties like a schoolboy. Arthur had to give your speech instead. Now every outlet thinks your abdicating and giving the throne to him right when he’s on the cusp of his dreams-”

“I have dreams!” he shouted. “I have a life, I have a dream-”

“And we gave you 8 years to make it happen. You have to grow up now Charles,” she commanded.

“Mother I-”

“Do you seriously think you’re the only one who wants to run away?” she questioned. “The only one who has dreams, and feelings, and a weariness about everything?”

“I’m-”

“This has been the hardest year of my life,” she choked up. “Lorenzo abdicating, you off in god-knows-where racing a car that can’t win, and Arthur trying his damndest to make his dreams come true, while I deal with it all. While I ‘hold down the fort’. You have a duty to your country, but you also have a duty to your family, Charles. I have complete faith in you, and then some. You will be a brave, and compassionate King. But you need to realise that sacrifice is a part of life. One we may have shielded you from, and I am sorry for that. But you need to make a sacrifice here. Royal life isn’t the prison you make it out to be. You can be happy, and you will be. But you need to learn to be happy with what you’ve got, because you have so much Charles. You have your family, you’ll meet someone nice and then you’ll have your own. You don’t need to race cars to feel strong. You need to be yourself. The people of Monaco are looking for someone they know after a year of confusion and shock. You need to be the comforting voice. I know you can be.”

“I’m trying,” he whispered.

“I have faith in you. You need to have faith in yourself. Don’t try to be your father, be Charles. He’s just as wonderful.”

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Arthur wasn’t going to focus, it was 3 days till Christmas, and he was kind of like an over-excited child. You suggested an adventure, and that is how you ended up racing speed boats with Arthur and a few of his friends. You two won, of course, and he may or may not have accidentally shoved you overboard and made you hit your head. But you were probably fine. Probably. You two relaxed on the water for a while, enjoying the Monaco sun asn the sun began to set and all of his friends went home.

Then you felt something hit into the edge of your boat. Another speedboat. Driven by none other than Prince Charles.

“Race you?” he smirked at his brother, his eyes then landing on you. He stopped, almost doing a double take when he saw you in your swimsuit, his mouth opening slightly. You didn’t seem to notice. Arthur did and he rolled his eyes, hoping against hope that Charles and his master-manipulating ways would pass you by and go onto the next person.

“You’re on!” Arthur shouted back, reeving up the engine, and thus the great race of speedboats began. Sadly, once again, Arthur LeClerc is very much not coordinated, so he shoved you off the boat, again. Charles immediately slowed down, turning back to grab you, but he found you laughing. He reached a hand in, and pulled you up onto his boat, grabbing your waist when you almost slipped and fell. You were close, much too close. You could feel his breath on your face, his eyes staring into yours, the look of shock, but neither one of you was asking to stop. It was different, a good difference. He was right there, right in front of you, and you didn’t look at him with annoyance, or anger, or distance. One of those fleeting moments of the both of you truly just being yourselves. Well, you were Marha and he was the Prince of Monaco, soon to be King. He saw every freckle on your face, every small wrinkle line, every flutter of your eyelashes. He loved it. He loved being this close to you. He loved the way you were smiling at him, and once he’d started looking at your lips, he couldn’t stop.

Arthur threw a snorkel at the two of you, making you jump apart, you almost falling off the boat again (actually your fault that time), but you just fell into Arthur’s boat. “No fraternising with the enemy!”

And the race was back on.

Unbeknownst to you, Lady Sophia and Duke Arsehole (aka Cousin Simoin), were riding by on a perfectly sublime boat ride, and saw the three of you enjoying yourselves. You had joined Charles' side, winning against Arthur every time, and then you’d be swapped back, or Arthur would swap.

Lady Sophia didn’t like it one bit.

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When you got back to the palace, Lorenzo was standing at the top step of the stairs, his mother beside him.

“Where have you three been?” he demanded.

“Lorenzo, we were-” Charles began.

“Speedboat racing in the bay?” he finished.

The three of you stood there, silent and still, unsure of what to do next.

“I suggest next time that you ask permission, Ms. Whelan,” he addressed you, and you nodded quickly offering multiple apologies. “And next time, maybe include the other members of the family. It’s not like we've never raced in our lives,” he smiled, before walking off. You had a feeling they hadn’t seen Arthur this happy in a long time. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in you, that you had been the one to help him get himself back.

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Arthur was busy with his duties, so you were given the day off, the day before Christmas Eve. You needed to get to know Charles better, so you could right all the wrongs online about him. He was going for a bike ride, so you followed suit, clearly forgetting about the fact that you knew nothing about Monaco, and the limited cell-service was really helpful. Oh, and when you fell off your bike and cut the shit out of your knee, you really wondered whether it was you or Arthur who was clumsy.

“Are you alright?”a voice called out, a voice you couldn't quite place, until Charles was in front of you and taking a look at your knee. “This looks bad, come with me.”

He helped you up, and while Mont Agel was beautiful, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, what was he going to do?

Bring you to his secret cabin, of course.

Literally, was this dude James Bond?

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You sat outside on his patio as the sun set. He handed you a glass of water. You thanked him.

“So, now that you’re alright,” he smiled (he’d bandaged up your leg despite the thousands of times you assured him you were fine). “Why were you following me?”

You sighed. “I was curious about Monaco, and I didn’t want to bother you,” lie after lie after lie. You were continuously sick. Maybe that other reporter was right, maybe you did need a new career.

“You couldn’t bother me,” he assured you, an easy smile on his lips.

“So what is… this?” you asked, gesturing to the house. “James Bond hideout or?

He laughed. “No, nothing interesting like that. This is just my house,” he smiled.

“So you’ve lived in Monaco the entire time?” you asked.

“The Palace is a bit too much for me at times,” he explained. “So I come here.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled. “Why do you find the Palace too much?”

He sighed. “Everyone is always looking at me.”

“Everyone is away looking at you in F1 too, you have like, millions of fan-girls,” you giggled.

“That’s different,” he argued. “I’m a driver there, that’s talent and hard work, I was just… handed the throne.”

“You were born into it,” you corrected him. “And just because you came across something easily doesn’t mean you haven’t struggled. I mean yes, it’s a lot of responsibility, but why wouldn’t you want to be King of Monaco?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” he sighed, getting up and pacing the patio.

“It might be good for you to talk it through,” you told him.

“I can’t even go for dinner with my friends without it being an international scandal!” he groaned.

“Like, when you went out with Sophia?” you mused.

“That was different, she sold a story to a tabloid, and the media had a field day,” he sighed, slumping back into his chair.

“The media is what’s holding you back?” you questioned, feeling your stomach twist.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Explain it then,” you smiled gently.

He looked at you for a moment, and for a fraction of a second, you could see that boy from the picture again. The magnetic, messy, smiley boy his parents had adored. The boy who worked so hard to prove himself. Then those walls went right back up and what replaced him was the man; older, wiser, and hurt. “Why bother? You probably think I’m just a spoiled rich kid anyway.”

You scoffed. “I never said that!” you argued, getting up and turning to him. “You know what you need to do, stop worrying so much about what everyone thinks of you, or how they’re going to perceive you. You’re a good person, with good instincts, and despite being actual nobility, you have morals, good ones, the kind that makes you miss a speech because you’re helping children. The kind that makes you worry about your little brother so much that you come home when he asks you to. The kind that makes you kind. Stop trying to be your father Charles, just be, Charles.”

He sighed, standing beside you. “You make that sound so simple,” he scoffed.

“Why isn't it? You’re a smart, talented, caring person-”

“Except when I steal your taxi,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes. He paused for a moment, his eyes shining in the low light of the sun. “I want to show you something.”

You stared at him, grimacing slightly. “What is it?”

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand. He led you through his house, up to a room filled with books.

“You read?”

“After my father died,” he explained. “We kept some of the overflow of his habit here. He also kept his journals here. I found a poem, it was dated just before he died, I think he was going to give it to my mother.”

Frost a sparkle in the fields,

Twixt the frozen minarets,

Winter’s harvest, wager yields,

Heavy burden’s, the years debts,

P[out from a seed, an acorn’s gift,

Henceforth the truth will flood,

Darkness such a secret bears,

A love far greater than blood.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, reading the poem. Charles’s eyes were on you. You were so close, just like on the bat, just like he wished for every single day since you’d come into his life. He leaned in and you didn’t back away. You didn’t run, or lean in either, you were still, your eyes trained on his lips.

Then your phone rang, and off you went to find it. Part of him wanted to grab you back and kiss you, but even he, in his delirious love-filled haze, knew the moment had passed, and he would just have to wait until the next one.

As you two were getting ready to go back to the palace, he left to go grab something from his room. His father’s desk took your attention, and you obliged yourself. Hidden in plain sight was a secret drawer with a stack of documents in it. As much as you hated yourself for it, you took the documents back to the palace with you.

Within those documents you found out a truth, a truth so great, you had no idea what to say. Charles and Arthur were adopted as children.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

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As you were walking through the halls with Arthur the next day, you saw Lady Sophia and Charles… kissing. Great, barf. Anyways. You had to finish your story, get something on the page, make this torment of a trip worth something. If you broke the story today, you could be out of there before Christmas, and their lives would be a lot easier. You thought about coming clean, but the thought of it actually made you vomit in your mouth. You were lost. You had no idea what to do.

So, you called your dad. What else were you supposed to do?

“Y/n!” he smiled, it was only a phone call but you could tell. “How are you?”

“Hey dad, remember how you said I have to take chances to win?” you asked.

“They are my words to live by,” he chuckled, understanding that something was going on. “Is everything alright?”

“What if that chance is going to really hurt people who don’t deserve it?” you questioned.

“I’m going to need more than that sweetheart,” he sighed.

“My story, if I release it, it might hurt someone who’s already been through a lot. I’m just…” you trailed off

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know anything about the world of publishing and reporting, but I do know that you have to trust your gut.”

You smiled. “Thanks dad.”

“I’m better than a fortune cookie, right?” he joked and you both chuckled. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

“Bye dad-” as you hung up the phone, there was a knock on your door. You tentatively got up and opened the door, only to find Charles on the other side, dressed in a Ferrari branded suit, a small smile on his face.

“Hi, is there something I can do for you?” you asked, slightly awkward and unsure. You didn’t really want him to look in your room too much, considering the documents of his adoption were literally on your desk, but alas, what would be, would be.

“I thought we could go for a walk?” he offered. “I can actually show you around Monaco, now that I know you want a tour guide.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t know,” you sighed. The media had been stirring everything up ever since the boat, you were the ‘mystery girl’ being passed around by the LeClerc’s, and it didn’t feel great.

He looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, just give me a few minutes of your time. I would like some company.”

“Sure, let me grab my coat,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

As you two walked through the streets of Monaco, he spoke freely about the beautiful buildings and people he knew so well, while you listened. You liked it, but it broke your heart slightly, to know that you had lied to the entire family for weeks now. But another part of you was grateful that you got to meet them, because you knew you had been changed for the better. It was also nice to see Charles be less… upset than when you first came. He smiled more, laughed more, and spent more time with Arthur, it was lovely to see.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes darting around your face as you looked at the pavement. “Are you alright?”

“Do you often take the help for a walk?” you questioned, your tone soft but the words bit at him anyway.

“What?” he questioned.

“Nothing, it’s stupid. Go back to your story Charles,” you sighed, walking on.

He grabbed your hand, turning you back to him. “Please talk to me. I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

“What would Lady Sophia say if she saw us walking together?” you scoffed.

“Why would that matter?”

“I saw you two,” you said.

“Whatever you saw, trust me, there is nothing there,” he pleaded.

“It didn’t look like that to me,” you scoffed. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“She was just… taking her chance again, even after I explicitly told her not to.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “It doesn’t matter anyways. Charles.”

You were both silent for a moment. He took the opportunity to study your face. The way your eyebrows creased, the tightness of your lips, the determined stare forward. He smiled. You were so smart, and headstrong, and right all the time (which kind of drove him crazy), but he loved it all. He loved you.

“I hope you’ll come tomorrow night,” he admitted. You looked at him confused. “The Ball. My coronation.”

You couldn’t do it anymore. You had to tell him. He couldn’t keep living this lie, and neither could you. “Charles, I need to tell you something-”

But he kissed you. Of course, he fucking kissed you, because he’d been wanting to do it since the day you arrived at the palace. He was in love with you, if he hadn't made that obvious enough, and yes, he kissed you, because the fact that he hadn’t yet was driving him mad. He didn’t want Sophia, he didn’t want anyone else, he wanted you.

And it was everything he could’ve dreamed of. His arms circled your waist, pulling you close to him, while his lips explored your soft ones, the taste of cherry on them. You must use some sort of cherry lip balm, and it quickly became one of his favourite tastes. Your arms slowly crept up to wrap around his neck, and when he pulled back you just pulled him back in.

This was the real Charles. The one who loved people unabashedly and didn’t care what people thought. This was that 20 year old boy in the photo. This was the boy you had slowly fallen in love with, without even realising it.

And it was wonderful.

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Much to your chagrin, while you were off tonguing the next King of Monaco, Lady Sophia and Cousin Arsehole were busy looking through your things. Unluckily for you, they found something.

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Charles sat in the driver’s seat of his Ferrari, half willing himself to man-up, and the other half begging himself to turn around. He couldn't though, not when he was this close to finally visiting his father’s resting place for the first time in months.

He got up and out of the car, your voice in his head telling him to get over himself, with that soft, perfect, smile on your lips.

He walked up to the grave, determined to speak to his father once again.

“I’ll take the crown,” he whispered, his eyes flooding with tears. “I’ll never measure up to you, but I will take it. For you and for mom.”

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You stood in your room, wondering what the fuck one wears to a coronation.

Arthur stood in the doorway, smiling brightly. He frowned when he saw your dress.

“It’s this or pyjamas,” you dead-panned. He walked in, taking the dress out of your hands and sitting on your bed.

“How’s the story coming along?” he asked. “Nearly done?”

“Almost,” you huffed, laying beside him.

He sighed. “I’ll miss you when you go,” he admitted, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. You almost forgot how much he’d been through, his sunny demeanour always seemed to make you forget his troubles. “It was nice to have a friend.”

You turned to him. “I’ll always be your friend,” you smiled. “And I’ll be cheering you on in Haas, and in everything else you do. I think you’re brilliant Arthur, seriously.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I hope everything goes well for you back in New York.”

“I hope so too,” you teased, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“I got you something,” he smiled cheekily, handing over a small box.

“Arthur!” you scolded. “We said no gifts!”

“There was no way I was following that,” he chuckled. “Open it!”

You slowly opened the box, inside there was a beautiful necklace with a beautiful blue topaz on the end. “Oh my god Arthur, this is beautiful,” you whispered.

“To remind you of the boat day” he grinned. “So you will never forget me.”

You smiled, your eyes cloudy with unshed tears. “I could never forget you, Arthur.”

Then in walked Jade, his girlfriend, with an array of gowns on a rack.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“Oh yes!” Arthur cheered.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

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You stood at the top of the steps, terrified of what anyone would say. Arthur had styled you (aka, Jade let him pick the dress) and while you thought you looked beautiful, you were slightly worried about what the nobility in the room would think. It had been fun though, an afternoon of being pampered and becoming friends with Jade was a lot more enjoyable than it was nerve-wracking. You slowly descended the steps, looking for Arthur, when Charles caught your eye. He looked beautiful, his hair perfectly styled, his suit perfect, his face perfect. He smiled up at you, excusing himself from his mother and brother to take your hand as you left the bottom step.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, taking in your dress. IN all honesty, there wasn’t a word for how he thought you looked. Regularly, a look from you made his heart stop. This? A different level. He was enamoured. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even if he wanted to.

You felt your cheeks heat. “Thank you,” you smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I will see you in there, alright? I have to-”

“Do what you need to Charles,” you chuckled. “I’m not running away at midnight.”

He smiled. “I’m glad.”

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Despite the fact that it was a royal ball, it was quite entertaining. Different Duke’s and Duchess’s were dancing, letting loose, and getting pretty drunk, but you just sat with Arthur and Jade and laughed at them. The ballroom was magnificent, the tall ceilings and Christmas lights all around, and in the centre of the hall there was a 36 foot (yes, about the height of a telephone pole) Christmas tree, decorated perfectly. Even though you were miles and miles away from home, it was still nice to be celebrating with people you love.

As you were speaking to Jade, someone started speaking.

“Might I have the first dance, mon amour?” Charles asked, barely above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

You turned to him, your face dropping. “Seriously?”

“Well, as long as you promise not to tread on my feet, we should be alright,” he chuckled, leading you to the dance floor. You joined on, doing a simple waltz (you thanked your father mentally for making you take ballroom classes as a child), and it was very sweet. It was nice to be so open about being close to each other, no longer shying away from each other's affections. You liked having Charles so close. He liked having you in his arms.

Win-win.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said as you waltzed around the hall. “I wouldn’t be accepting the crown if it wasn’t for you, so thank you for telling me to grow up.”

You chuckled. “I think you’re giving me too much credit there.”

He shrugged. “I do not think so,” he smiled. “You make me feel comfortable, you’re the most genuine person I have met since… well probably since birth.”

Again, that nauseating feeling in your stomach urged you to run away and hide from him, even though your heart (as mad as it sounds) longed to never let him go. “I have to tell you something.”

He nodded. “You can talk to me about anything.”

As he spoke, the music stopped, and it was time. He would be crowned King.

“Tell me after,” he whispered, as all eyes went to him. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“I dispute this claim!” Lady Sophia’s voice shocked the room and you. Charles was so close, so close to taking his rightful seat as the King, and of course, someone had to make it difficult.

“On what grounds?” the Archbishop asked.

“The grounds that he is in fact, not the rightful heir,” she smirked, smug as ever. “Prince Charles, and his brother Arthur, were in fact adopted by the late King Hervé and our Queen Pascale, therefore are not of the blood of the Royal family, as per this document.”

The certificate was taken from her, and shown to the Archbishop. “Where did you obtain this document?”

“I obtained it by uncovering a scheme by an American journalist, Ms. Martha Whelan, or should we call you Y/n Y/l/n?”

All eyes went to you as the room was full of gasps.

You knew you should've turned tail and ran, you knew you shouldn’t have stayed on when Arthur found out, and you knew you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the Prince of fucking Monaco. You were the dumbest person you’d ever met.

You didn’t dare look at Charles, knowing what his expression would be. You just looked down.

“Is that true, you are a journalist?” the Archbishop questioned.

You spoke confidently, though the regret was evident in your voice. “I am.”

The room was in upheaval. Everyone was angry, everyone was confused, and everyone needed an answer.

“And your Majesty, this certificate?”

The room went silent as Pascale began to speak. “It is legitimate.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You were running out as quickly as humanly possible, trailing just after Charles.

“Charles, please, just let me explain-!”

“Explain what?” he spat, turning to you.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen, and I understand that you never want to see me again. I just had to tell you I’m sorry, and the only reason I kept it up was for you and Arthur.”

“And you couldn’t have told me?!”

“Arthur made me promise I wouldn’t tell you,” you sniffled.

His face dropped. “He knew?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. This wasn’t for you to be upset about. This was your mistake, and you couldn't fix it.

“Why wouldn’t he let you tell me? Did he know he was adopted?”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me tell you. I just… he asked me not to.”

He stared at you for a moment, and it wasn’t those same, shining eyes that made your heart leap. It was the cold, dead, reserved eyes that made you want to run away and never come back, that stared back at you. “I’m glad you have your story. I suggest you stay out of our lives from now on.”

And with that he walked on.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

New York was colder than you remembered. You had decided to just go straight to your apartment, turn off your phone, and binge watch shitty reality tv shows until you could show your face in public again without wanting to sob every time you saw something that remotely reminded you of Charles and Monaco.

But something nagged at you. The acorn, the poem, ‘a love far greater than blood’. You didn’t understand it. So you spent about 12 hours working on deconstructing it, and you thought of something. Maybe it was your delusions after not sleeping for a day (or two), but maybe the acorn ornament could prove something, so you sent your findings over to Arthur, hoping they would make sense, and turned your phone back off, blocking all of their numbers and falling into a very needed sleep.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The next few weeks were full of clearing out your office (you quit), looking for a new job, and starting off as an actual journalist, not just cleaning up some sleaze work. It was nice, peaceful. Writing articles about things that mattered to you, things that would help people, things that weren’t a certain King of Monaco.

Life was good. Getting over your heartbreak was hard, but you were starting to believe that you might actually be alright.

You sat in your dad’s diner, ready to ring in the New Year, when there was a snowball thrown on the glass, and when you looked outside, there he was.

Quickly, you ran outside. “What are you doing here?” you questioned.

He shrugged, “I never got to say goodbye, or thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me, I honestly should be apologising again and again for what I did, I am so sor-”

“You opened a door that should’ve been opened years ago. Arthur showed me what you’d done. Half because I couldn’t believe he could do it on his own, and half because… I thought it was going to be a message from you. You blocked me…”

“I didn’t want to risk bothering you anymore,” you sighed.

“You’d never bother me,” he smiled, pausing for a moment. “Arthur misses you. So do I.”

“I miss you both too,” you smiled. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Y’know, a palace is a lonely place for a king, when he has no queen,” he admitted.

“It’s a good thing you’re an eligible bachelor then,” you chuckled. “Good night Charles, thank you for coming to see me-”

“I love you,” he confessed. “You made me a better man- you make me a better man. I don’t even want to spend time without you, do you understand that?” he asked, getting down on one knee and revealing an engagement ring.

You frowned, your eyes tearing up. “Charles, I am not nobility-”

“I don’t care,” he smiled.

“My entire life is in New York-”

“We can come back as much as you want.”

“What will the people think?” you sniffled, and he stood up, wrapping his arms around you.

“They’ll think you're a kind, caring, beautiful woman with a very intelligent mind, and brilliant ideas, who is loved very much by their King,” he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“We barely know each other Charles-”

“And yet I’ve never been more certain in my life. And I’m known to be indecisive-”

He stopped talking because you’d started kissing him.

Jesus Christ, you were going to be the Queen of Monaco, what a story that was.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 2 months ago

Note

From your Christmas prompt list, could you do #5 Joseph Quinn x fem!reader?

thank you for requesting!

Prompt 5: staying up late wrapping presents for your kids

PRESENTS

Pairings: Joseph Quinn x Wife!reader Summary: wrapping your kids Christmas gifts together. Warnings: none.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

"how about we get these kiddos to bed, yeah?" Your husband whispered as you snuggled into his side, your kids in your laps, fast asleep as the grinch played softly on the television

it's the first time you and Joseph have had a shared break together due to filming in a while and it was nice to have your family all together again after a couple of months apart. so you promised to spend as much time together for the holidays before going back to filming by the new year. Joseph having to go back to fantastic four only a few days later

it was difficult to handle having your little babies and work but it was good to have family near by. but you cherished these moments.

Little Ben on your lap and Ivy on Joe's, both snoring in their matching pj's

you yawned, nodding your head before Joseph got up, groaning at he lifted your 5 year old daughter as lightly, trying not to wake her up as you lifted ben up, getting up from your couch as you walked up to the second floor.

you tucked them in to their beds and kissed their foreheads before sighing when you shut the door to Ben's bedroom, letters with images of Dinosaurs spelling out B-E-N on the white door.

you felt the warmth of your husbands' hand on the small of your back, a kiss being placed delicately to your head as he started going down the hall, to your bedroom where you had hidden the Christmas presents for your kids.

you followed in after him and helped him carry things downstairs to the Livingroom, the movie still playing in the background before Joseph asked you

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate, do you want some?"

you smile before sitting on the rug on the floor right by your large Christmas tree "yes please"

you had brought out your wrapping paper and lined it up with the first gift for Ivy, trying to figure out how to wrap the big box without wasting or making it look bag.

you huffed and taped a few pieces before flipping it over, folding over the paper and putting a sticker on it, cutting a roll of ribbon to tie around the width on the present and tying a nice bow with the red mesh of lace, smiling to yourself before putting it under the tree

Joseph comes back a few minutes later, 2 festive themed mugs in his hands as he sits down beside you, placing the cups on the coffee table beside him before grabbing Ben's gift from Santa, picking up a different wrapping paper and wrapping it

"he's going to love this" he laughed

"I know. we're lucky you found it. I wouldn't know what else to get him" you shrugged, reaching over to grab your mug of hot coco, humming at the sweet taste of the melting marshmallows

pressing a sticker bow to Ben's gift, you placed it under the tree on the other side, going to wrap many of the other gifts

it was nice, staying together in silence, just enjoying each others presence after what seemed like forever apart, this was exactly what you wished for, a perfect relationship where you could be comfortable enough to sit together and just enjoy the moment without much having to be said, it was nice.

after a while he spoke up, looking over at you

"all these presents are making me want to give you yours early" he bounced his leg, hitting your knee gently

you had a no early gifts rule, he knew it, but he just couldn't wait to give it to you. the anticipation of your reaction will slowly kill him.

you shook your head "nuh uh- you'll have to wait until tomorrow, Joseph, because I don't want it, not yet" you laughed under your breath

"just one?" he placed his hand on your knee, tracing shapes on your skin as he leaned closer to you

"no" you denied, reaching up to cup his cheek, pressing a peck to his soft lips

"you're going to love it" he mumbled

"I love whatever you give me, you know that" you frowned teasingly

"I know, but I really outdid myself this year" he smiled proudly, leaning back to grab another one of the kids' gifts.

"I bet you did, Honey. I reckon I did better, though" you teased

"you could try, but I doubt it" he chuckled "I bet I'll love it too, though"

after a while, the presents were all wrapped, and the hot chocolate was all gone

you stood up and smiled at the stack of gifts under the tree, wrapping your arms around Joseph's shoulders, leaning your head on his chest

"I love you" he murmured, snaking his hands around your waist, swaying you side to side

you hummed "I love you too"

you stayed there for a while, swaying to the light music playing that you turned on halfway through wrapping.

everything was so perfect. him, the perfect father, husband.

you let go and took your mugs to the kitchen, loading them into the dishwasher after rinsing them out. walking out to see Joseph eating some of the cookies for Santa, dipping it in the glass of milk your kids had prepared before watching the Grinch, where they would fall asleep.

you stifled a laugh and turned the tv and lights off, the only light source being the streetlight illuminating through the windows, snow piling onto the windowsill.

you walked up the stairs and to the balcony and bit into the few carrots in the bowl of water meant for the reindeer.

it was an understatement to say you were tired, staying up late just so you could see the smiles on your kids faces in the morning, tearing the paper off the boxes and celebrating a new toy.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

"mummy! daddy! Christmas!" you groaned, immediately smiling as you watch your kids jump on your bed, waking you and Joseph up from your much needed sleep

"we're up, we're up" Joseph sat up, leaning against the headboard as he yawned, pulling them into his embrace, hearing a fit of giggles when he ticked their sides

you smiled as you stretched your limbs, rubbing your face as you woke up to the early cold morning of Christmas

"Merry Christmas" you mumbled as you yawned

Joseph paused his tickle fight, leaning over to you "Merry Christmas"

he kissed your cheek as Ben and Ivy jumped on you, smiling and yelling about presents, both jumping of the bed, Ben struggling as he leaned down, his feet dangling over the bed as he slipped down, Ivy holding his hand as they both ran out.

🦌𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆꙳❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°°‧❆⋆.ೃ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ

#fluff #imagines #x fem!reader #oneshot #thank you for requesting #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #please request #christmas prompts #ami's christmas prompts #wife x husband

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animeyanderelover · 5 months ago

Text

Anon: If I may, my request is about Soo won (Akatsuki no Yona), Akutagawa and Chuuya (Bungo Stray Dogs), Floch and Eren (Attack on Titan), Sai and Shikamaru (Naruto), Shu and Subaru (Diabolik lovers), all seperate, with an unbothered reader who's stronger than them physically and has a noble and powerful background even though she's illegitimate she's very much loved by her stepmother and half-siblings anyway, her family, personal servants and few friends are very supportive and caring, and she received a great upbringing and pretty much was free to try and learn anything (as long as not too dangerous from when she was like under 12), so she's also on the very strong side physically and intellectually enriched while having multiple skills. After the kidnapping, she turn out to know it all but didn't mind and she could've always found a way to avoid it but she just didn't as she also have feelings for the yandere and already informed her family and friends she won't be there for a pretty long while and to just ignore it, she's very confident in herself and great at communicating when uncomfortable without touching the wrong nerves of the yandere and just enjoy her time with the yandere finely, her only big NOs is threats or actions against people she care about, physical violence on her, hiding things after the "kidnapping" already happened and unnecessary killings of strangers because of her.

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata @chxxz @leveyani @izanami78

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, protective behavior, paranoia, clinginess, stalking, guilt-tripping, isolation, abduction

I can handle you

Nara Shikamaru

🦌He didn't always like you. If Shikamaru would have to be honest there was a brief period during his childhood where he held the belief that you would be arrogant and spoiled due to your rich upbringing. Luckily his father quickly taught him better as he told his son that he shouldn't judge a person before getting to know them better. Only after he took the words of his father to heart did Shikamaru actually realise that he had been wrong about you. Because he recognised a similar mindset in other children that he used to have whilst observing you. Children were either avoiding you since they were scared of your noble background or tried to cosy up to you to bask in your wealth only to talk behind your back since it wasn't actually you they were interested in. He doesn't see himself as a hero yet back then he couldn't help but stand up for you, a naive gesture considering that you were more than capable of doing this yourself. Nevertheless though, it was this action he took that led the two of you to become very close friends over the following years. It isn't always easy with you due to your many hobbies that you insist him to join you but he does it still because he wants to spend time with you.

🦌Shikamaru's obsession is in a similar fashion almost as lazy as he is. It takes time for his feelings to escalate to the point of a real obsession yet being a childhood friend of yours is a good precondition for it to happen. That is when some problems arise that previous weren't there simply because he has such feelings for you now. He used to not mind that you were always busy with training or doing your hobbies because he knew you'd still make time for him. Now the absence actually bothers him and no one is more annoyed by the sudden change of feelings than Shikamaru himself. It's plainly speaking silly and embarrassing that such things now bother him when they didn't in the past. Everything about his feelings has to be carefully concealed when he is in front of you, especially because of your family. Deep down he starts despising just how much troubles he finds himself in simply because your family is so important. He has a feeling that they wouldn't be too thrilled if he were to ask them for your hand in marriage and his frustration partially ends in him slipping up, subtle words meant to influence you. Your sharp mind sadly always catches on, forcing him to cover his slipup up.

🦌There are a lot of things he needs to consider whilst planning for an abduction, specifically because your family is influential and important. Shikamaru spends months carefully putting everything together and then can only patiently wait until you finally leave the compound of your clan and give him the best chance to abduct you. Only to find out later on that you had a feeling that he would do something like this but decided to let it happen anyways because you also love him. There are a lot of things he could reply to that yet the only thing he can manage is a groan. Seriously? Couldn't you have told him that sooner? Do you even know how many hours he spent crafting this plan? Shikamaru finds himself neither particularly surprised nor shocked about this revelation though. It is after all just like you to pull off something like this. Now that the cat is out of the back though he sees no reason to keep any secrets anymore which ends in both of you having a long discussion about how things should proceed between the two of you now, something that feels more diplomatic than it should be considering the content of the talk yet both of you come to an agreement.

Sai

🖌️Sai has done his fair share of bloody work whilst working for Root and it is actually through a mission that he was tasked with that he met you. Danzo had gazed upon your family with growing dislike as your clan spoke up against some of Konoha's unsavory incidents and mistakes, something that caused the leader of Root to consider you a threat. At the same time it was undeniable that the support and influence of your family was too important to lose, meaning that Danzo needed a bait to ensure that your family would continue giving their support and benefitting Konoha as a result. That's how Sai was tasked with watching over you, the illegitimate heir of the family who was still very much beloved. If things were to turn to worse and your clan would consider breaking off any relationship with the village Sai would take you as a hostage to ensure that everything would proceed as it had done for the last few decades. Even Sai must admit though that it was remarkably difficult to keep a constant eye out on you. Not only because you were well-guarded but also because sometimes he had an intuition that you knew that he was watching you, your gaze lingering in the direction he was hiding.

🖌️He spends a remarkable amount of time keeping an eye on you, following you from the shadows as you go on with your days. You are very skilled in taijutsu, genjutsu and weaponry as far as he can observe which leads him to start analysing your abilities so that he can counter them if Danzo should give him the order to capture you. He watches you and watches you and watches you until he knows everything about you, can fluently inform someone of your schedule throughout the entire week and knows you better than he has known everyone else in his life, even himself. Unaware to even himself he has grown an obsessive fascination with you, one Danzo takes note of when Sai ends up rambling about you whilst giving his report as he drifts off and just starts telling the old man about everything that he noticed about you that week and about little quirks of yours that fascinate him. He's especially fond of the fact that you have taken a liking to drawing, has watched you countless times in the past either doodling something idly on paper or spend hours painstakingly painting something on canvas. Sai himself has mutliple sketches featuring you, all capturing moments you fascinated him.

🖌️Root is the last restrain that keeps him from abducting you so when Danzo is killed by Sasuke there are no chains holding him back anymore. By now Sai has also realised what this funny feeling in his chest is that he constantly experiences when he does as much as thinking about you. His time in team 7 has opened his eyes and Sakura especially has done a good job explaining to him what this sensation in his chest is. So this is love. It isn't like him to rush things, especially since he is still unfamiliar with love but when you leave your clan to travel he knows that this is a chance too good to miss. He wants to show you though that he is no stranger though you have never met him before so he makes sure to hang up all of the sketches he made of you over the years in the room he takes you in as soon as you are abducted. You handle the situation incredibly well though, handle Sai very well. He just stares at you with his black eyes as you list to him what you will and won't tolerate, the scenario familiar to him as it reminds him of someone giving him orders for a mission which makes it easier for him to understand. He accepts the conditions though as you promise to stay with him.

Eren Yeager

👊Eren meets you during his time in the Survey Corps as you and your family reside in Wall Sina. You have been fairly isolated from the life behind the walls you lived in as your family always thought that they were better than other commoners. When Historia is crowned Queen and a lot of nobles are stripped of their reputation for being involved with the impostor king you are spared as you offer your honest support for the new Queen as well as the other Survey Corps. You're talented and gifted, everything Eren doesn't believe he is yet you possess such a curiosity of the world outside that almost overwhelms him at times. It reminds him too much of his younger self and the innocence he has lost over the years. Nevertheless he indulges you and tells you stories. Initially he leaves out everything that he wish he wouldn't have seen yet you quickly realise that he is hiding things from you and call him out for it. You want to know the truth after all. You have been sheltered enough. That surprises him but eventually he does as you wish, realising that he was just trying to hide you from knowledge and a burden he sometimes wishes he wouldn't have been loaded with.

👊Over the years Eren starts trauma-dumping when he is around you. Some of his worries he just feels like he can't share with even Armin and Mikasa yet around you he can. He never explicitly states what is plaguing his mind but you never push him to tell you the entire truth either as you just listen to him and then comfort him in a way you knows works perfectly for him. Maybe that is why he finds himself seeking you out more and more whenever he feels his soul being tormented by the visions that he sees and the knowledge that he can't share with anyone. You're able to put him at ease in ways no one else is able to do and since he has a lot of stuff on his mind he starts searching for you more and more often. He longs for your voice and your gentle touch until it eventually becomes an obsession. He's agitated when he doesn't know where you are and one day without being in your embrace greatly affects his mood and only enhances the silent stress he is feeling. He starts to get controlling, asks the Yeagerists to keep an eye out on you so that you are always well protected. He knows you are capable of fighting yet paranoia outweights any logic he possesses.

👊The thing that ultimately breaks him is when he starts catching glimpses of the future where you are with him. A path that is shaky and delicate, visions that are like smoke as he is unable to properly grasp them. Eren knows that he doesn't have much time left but he desperately longs for that future that he sometimes sees but if it won't happen by itself he will force this path to appear. That is how you soon find yourself locked away by Yeagerists who keep a sharp eye on you. Eren is fully prepared to push down any guilty feelings when he steps into the room, prepared to appear as determined and cold-hearted. It is your confession of not only having expected this to happen but also of your own feelings that shatters that ruthless facade. You know him far too well to let yourself get fooled by his cruel appearance and perhaps that is why he clings so much to you. You see the vulnerable boy beneath the Titan. Eren expected that he would have to calm you down and even intimidate you so you wouldn't throw too much of a scene yet it ends up being the complete opposite. You end up calming him down as he is the one clinging to you and begging silently for comfort.

Floch Forster

🟫Floch initially just despises you. After all you are just a spoiled and naive little thing that knows nothing about the struggles people like him had to go through so that your noble arse would be safely protected. Yet you have the utter trust of Queen Historia which leaves him with little to no choice but to tolerate your presence. Nevertheless, he throws a lot of shade your way only for you to reply with an equal amount of sass back which does surprise him a lot. He expected you to be offended or not know how to reply but you are very much capable of standing up for yourself which is something he begrudgingly accepts and maybe even admires. Still, he avoids you a lot due to his dislike. That is until he starts seeing and realising what you are capable of. You're smart, skilled and even know how to properly use an ODM gear despite having never been part of the Military. How do you know how to use one of those? That is when he finds out that you have always been allowed to train in a lot of different areas and that you are not just a weak and spoiled noble but a courageous and talented lady whose assistance is desperately needed for the future of Paradise Island.

🟫That is when he starts to get jealous. In a way Floch feels undermined, something he absolutely despises. You're probably underestimating him, especially if you were to find out just how much of a coward he used to be back in the days. None of that is true but it is in his head. He doesn't avoid you anymore but instead starts actively seeking you out. He needs to have you stop underestimating him, needs you to acknowledge him or needs to simply find one single flaw that he can target to elevate his own ego. Yet even the flaws he discovers and targets you carry with dignity he could only dream of possessing and all of it slowly drives him mad. He's obsessed already with you, constantly bothers you and follows you around like a creep yet no one can tell him to stop. Perfect. You are far too perfect. How can one single woman be so utterly perfect? You are everything he should aspire to be, everything anyone should hope to be and it is this gradual realisation that is the last push he needs to spiral down the rabbit hole of obsession. Now more than ever he is desperate for approval and acknowledgement yet internalised self-doubt of his own still lets him believe that you secretly hate him.

🟫As someone who is essentially the leader of the Yeagerists Floch uses the brooding mood that arises within the population of Paradise Island as the conflict unfolds to capture you. After all you are on your own as most nobles who were in power during the reign of the fake king are imprisoned and despised by the overall public. Now he finally has a chance to talk to you, to get you to see him as more than a loser. You should side with him. He can protect you, he knows how the mind of the larger crowd works. In his mind he has prepared a speech already yet you just have to shatter his plans when you nonchalantly admit that not only you knew of his plans but that you also love him even if he is quite a nasty person and that you never got a chance to tell him since he never listened to you properly. Floch is dumbfounded to the point where he stays silent for a solid minute before he starts laughing. He refuses to believe that what you just said is the truth. Because if it would be he would only cement himself further as a fool in his own eyes and would only feel secretly more insecure when in your presence. God, sometimes he despises just how smart and perfect you are.

Sakamaki Shu

🎵Illegitimate or not, your family is one of immense power and influence which gains the attention of his cursed father. Karlheinz shows an interest in your family and especially in you even though you are an illegitimate child. From a very young age on he suggests that perhaps one of his sons should be your husband in later years and Beatrix instantly grabs the chance as soon as she perceives it. Whenever your family is visiting she forces Shu to tag along with her and introduces him to your parents and to you as well. The boy is meticulously tidied up on such occasions as his mother has cleaned him and dressed him up properly, constantly reminding him to be on his best behavior in front of your family. For Shu none of it has ever been fun as he had never interest in being engaged forcefully even though he didn't hate you per se. It is after the death of his dear friend that he completely retreats within himself, his heart growing colder. The words and pleads of his mother to charm you and to prove himself as a good choice of a future husband fall on deaf ears as he doesn't care anymore. He just wants to be left alone. He doesn't care about an arranged marriage or about you.

🎵As if sensing that something is wrong with him, you suddenly start seeking him out a tad bit more without overwhelming him. Shu ususally either ignores you or tells you bluntly that he doesn't want any company and even though you feel like leaving him alone with his sorrow is wrong, initially you respect his wishes. After all you yourself don't know what the proper way to consult him is and until you have figured that out you decide to give him some time. She just appreciates that you left him alone at all. Until one day you suddenly appear again, this time though you carry a violin with you. It does gain you a lazy look from him before he closes his eyes again but he has given you a moment of attention and hasn't told you off either so you see this as a sign to continue. You're still new to playing violin as it is something that you have only recently picked up so you mess up a few tunes yet you still sense somehow that Shu is listening in. He doesn't say anything the first few times when you repeat this process but one day eventually he actually stands up when you are done with your play and asks if he can borrow your violin. You've gotten a few notes wrong. Listen to him playing so you don't get it wrong again.

🎵You know in that moment that you have won him over and from that day on those sessions continue. Initially it always involves a violin or sometimes also a piano as the two of you start playing together. With passing time sometimes he just listens to music together with you whilst sharing an earphone with you or he just simply listens to you as you tell him what is going on with your life. This has been going on for decades, decades in which he started thinking about being your husband in a less negative light, especially whenever his other brothers try to get under his skin and mock him that they might try to become your husband in the future. He sees a future with you, only with you and away from the chaos of the mansion he is living in. That's why he lures you away to the countryside into a cottage, hoping for peace with you in this small house. Much to his relief you have a very calm reaction to it all and he can only give you an amused huff when you inform him that you expected him to try something like this for a while now. You know-it-all. You could have saved him all the effort if you would have just taken the lead sooner and confessed your feelings to him.

Sakamaki Subaru

⬜Subaru has spent more time watching you from a window than actually being right next to you. Whilst all of his other half-brothers were allowed to play with you and get to know you he was kept away from you as if he were a dangerous dog that might bite you. As a young child this mainly just saddened him as he had secretly hoped to be your friend. After all you always looked so happy and pretty whilst playing with the triplets or listening to Reiji when he told you something interesting. As the years passed that sadness grew into bitterness though. You probably wouldn't even want to meet him even if you had the chance. Who would want to be friends with a monster after all? At one point he stops looking through the window, stops admiring you from a distance to not torment himself anymore. As if sensing his growing anguish though that is when you one day appear right in front of him whilst he is sitting alone in the garden of the mansion. He's far too surprised to say anything as he just stares at you but it is the careful question of yours if he's alright or not that frees him from his trance. He stands up and abruptly leaves, tells you harshly that he doesn't want you to follow him.

⬜He regrets it later that night that he spoke to you so rudely. Subaru just didn't know what else he should have said in that moment. Maybe it's better that way though. Now you at least have seen the real him and will probably ignore him from now on. Only that it never happens. Instead you start to search for him and his dead heart always leaps in his chest when he sees you waving to him whilst he's staring at you through the windows. Loneliness eventually gets the better of him and when all his other brothers are gone he seeks you out. He's awkward, doesn't know how to act around you and at times that leads to him saying something rude yet you are never scared or angry around him. You understand that he has probably had his fair share of terrible experiences in this family and always keep that in mind when he lashes out. You're the first friend Subaru has ever had and he quickly grows attached and protective. He's terrified that one day you might change your opinion and see him as nothing more as a brute, fears that you may prefer one of his other brothers over him and abandon him for them. It should be no surprise that those feelings bloom into a romantic obsession.

⬜It is when he is informed from Reji that your family considers choosing one of them as your husband that Subaru ultimately falls victim to his paranoia though. After all why would your parents choose him? They will probably choose someone like Reiji who is educated and sophisticated. He's going to lose you after all those years now, isn't he? There is barely a grand plan that Subaru forms. He just one day drags you away with him, as far away from the Sakamaki mansion as he can whilst keeping a tight grip on you. Both of you eventually stop in the middle of nowhere and that is when you finally decide to talk to him. You already have a very good idea what his motives are and your suspicions are confirmed when he lashes out with his overwhelmed emotions. He doesn't want to lose you, especially not to one of his brothers. You're all he ever had. He would have never expected you to confess that you have feelings for him as well, after all he was always told that he was nothing more than a monster. He doesn't believe you either when you tell him that you have feelings for him, thinking that you're just trying to calm him down. If you're not lying though, he'll try. He'll try for you.

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

⬛️It is quite risky to work as closely with Akutagawa as you do. He has a reputation for being aggressive, easily angered and prone to using violence to the point where not even the current leader of the Port Mafia has full control over him. You are very focused on doing what you are supposed to do though and it isn't like you don't know who he is when you specifically ask for Akutagawa's help. Your family has some good ties with the Port Mafia after all which is why Mori isn't opposed to offering you some help when you inform him that you need one of his men to take care of a problem or two. Akutagawa just seems like the right guy to you when you are offered different options and Mori doesn't question your decision too much as he knows that you are pretty good in assessing a situation and making the decision needed. Other people are quite cautious around Akutagawa and you can't blame them. He isn't exactly the most friendly person there is but he's here to get a job done and you acknowledge that. It takes you a little bit before you have figured out what the best way to handle him is but after that luckily you are able to communicate well enough with him.

⬛️The two of you spend a lot of time together and more than just once you have to stop him from acting on impulse. He can't just storm in after all, a little bit of planning is always needed. Despite your position Akutagawa treats you quite rudely when he is mad and somehow you find that quite amusing. It's not everyday that someone gives you such an attitude after all. The relationship between the two of you is somewhat strained but it still works. Until one day you happen to get into a tricky situation and whilst Akutagawa would have saved you, you decide to take care of the situation yourself and that is when he feels for the first time something akin to respect for you. After all not only are you calculated and smart but are also very capable of fighting for yourself. You're strong... Why does this bother him so much though? Unbeknownst to him his feelings have already started shifting and with this arises a fear that you might never fully acknowledge him if he isn't strong enough. It is a fear he last experienced with Dazai only that this time it escalates even further as his obsession grows and festers within his soul.

⬛️Akutagawa is just itching to prove himself which ultimately leads him to abandon the plan you made as he just slaughters everyone he is supposed to target brutally and by the time you arrive the bloodbath is already over. Your mild disappointment almost makes him nauseous when you see the scene in front of you. It is when you decide that he has done his job and that he should return to the Port Mafia that Akutagawa snaps. You're just sending him away as if he's worth nothing to you. He won't allow you to deprive him of acknowledgement and respect like this. Everyone else would be terrified when faced with the sight of him enraged, Rashomon activated and towering over them yet you remain quite calm. Somehow this adds only salt to the wound as it feels like you aren't even acknowledging just how terrifying his ability is. He doesn't want to admit that he has feelings for you even when you point it out to him but he does react when you admit that you have feelings for him, a look of disbelief crossing his face as he analyses you closely to figure out if you're lying to him or not. He loathes this situation as it is as he hates that you are the one with control in this situation.

Nakahara Chuuya

🟠Chuuya and you meet whilst your family discusses a possible partnership with the Port Mafia. You have quite the target on your back, not only as the heir of the family but also because not everyone is too fond of you as you are an illegitimate child so Chuuya is actually there for additional protection. You don't mind too much since he is charming and sweet. It does annoy you a bit though that he follows you wherever you go though you know that he has his orders and that an important partnership is on the line here, meaning that consequences would be grave if he were to let something happen to you. Whilst it isn't pleasant it isn't something you aren't used to either as you have grown up with bodyguards surrounding you. You're just hoping that Chuuya won't be as strict as some of your bodyguards and you seem to have struck gold with him when you discover that a bit of begging and pretty eyes seem to do it for him. If the pretty lady wants to enjoy her time in Yokohama he'll see it through that he fulfills you your wish though you still have to promise him to stay close to him. Other than that Chuuya just allows you to have a great time in the city.

🟠You visit the Port Mafia a lot even after the partnership has been formed simply to get out of your home for a bit and every time Chuuya is assigned to keep an eye on you. At this point the both of you know each other quite well and Chuuya sometimes even jokes that at this point you're just hanging out with him for fun and not because you actually require his protection. He's seen you in action before and he won't lie, his ego was slightly let down when he figured out that he couldn't play hero for you but he's just made sure to turn his flattery up a few notches since then. He loves buying you something as soon as it catches your eye even though you could easily effort it by yourself, insisting that he would like to do at least something for you and he always invites you to dinner with him in expensive restaurants. He's not one to deny what is obvious. Chuuya knows that he has fallen in love with you more than he should have but he can't blame himself for it whenever he looks at you. He just wishes that he could do more and provide for you than he can do now. After all you have already everything many people could only dream of, meaning that he has to impress you all the more.

🟠It's quite likely that the abduction has a more dire background considering the position and the importance that you have. Chuuya can't just simply abduct you after all, not when you are part of the family that his boss works with. Maybe someone did manage to almost get to you and actually injured you, something that would cause Chuuya to act for a short amount of time on his paranoia more than his logic. After all he is a highly protective man. That's probably how you wind up in his house all whilst he is fussing over your wounds before you manage to calm him down enough for him to sit down and listen. It's after he has slightly calmed down that he winds up confessing to you that he can't bear the thought of something happening to you because he loves you and that all he wants is to protect you. This isn't how he had planned things to go, he wanted to properly court you and win your heart over instead of sloppily blurting his feelings out whilst sitting on a couch. He's frustrated and angry with the situation as well as himself until you decide to follow his example and confess to him as well, promising to inform your family that you'll be gone for a while until he's calmed down.

Soo-Won

👑The Kouka Kingdom welcomes the arrival of your family with high hopes and expectations as you are ambassadors of a neighbouring kingdom with which the current king hopes to form an alliance as the other option would be one of conflict and maybe even war. You are also allowed to travel along as your father feels like it is important for you to get a real taste of what diplomacy is after he has taught you years about strategies, tactics and everything you need to know when you eventually take over his role. Soo-Won and you both share the same thought when spotting each other for the first time when your family is greeted into his palace. Both of you think that the other one doesn't look like too much of a threat but at the same time both of you can't help but feel that there is much more than either of you can see on the surface. You can't help but think that there is a dark determination hidden beneath that soft and fragile appearance and Soo-Won can't help but feel like you could be much more dangerous than you look. It is a keen intuition about each other that both of you share and during the banquet held in the evening both of you keep on glancing at each other.

👑What follows is a carefully concealed game of cat and mouse only that is remains unclear who is the cat and who is the mouse. Soo-Won seeks you out and converses with you, questions you how you like it in Kouka and that if you experience any discomfort you can tell him. He uses his carefree and somewhat oblivious personality in an attempt for you to let your guard down yet you remain cautious with the information you reveal. Slightly frustrating but also much more exhilarating in return. In some aspects you remind him of himself as you are very reserved when it comes to revealing too much about yourself. As underhanded of a strategy as it might be, at one point he attempts to crack your facade by subtly bringing up the topic of you being an illegitimate child only to be left even more impressed by you when you hold your head high and masterfully answer the question only for you to return the blow as you question him about his own father, especially the crimes he committed. You are a dangerous player on this field, Soo-Won realises that much yet at the same time he can't help but be drawn to you for some reason. It is almost ironic that despite his intelligence he knows so little about love.

👑When Soo-Won finally realises that he has fallen in love with you, because someone pointed it out to him, he isn't as surprised as he thought he would be. After all it is hard not to fall for a sharp-minded and talented beauty like you. His mind is quickly made up to claim you as his. He could attempt to write your father and ask for your hand in marriage yet he wonders if you have noticed his feelings for you, is curious how you would react if he were to expose his darker side to you. It is this eerie curiosity that leads him to lure you to his bedchambers before locking the door and ordering the guards to not let you out. Any kindness vanishes from his face as he observes you like a hawk, trying to detect any sign of fear on your face or in your body language only to be met with composure and confidence. He can't say that he hates it though, especially once you confirm his suspicion and admit that you knew about his feelings before even he himself was aware of it. You appeal to him though that there is no need for any casualties for he can have an alliance with your kingdom as well as you for you also love him. Looking at you he knows you're going to be his greatest enemy as well as the best Queen.

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