#Anyways! COMPLETE AT LIKE 11PM!!
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doink-boink · 3 months ago
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DRAWTOBER DAY 4 - COSTUME
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year ago
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cringe is dead because rouxls is carrying the weight of it all madoka style
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cacaocheri · 1 year ago
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little doodle i did for myself bc when i got home i was so fucking drained
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gingerwerk · 1 year ago
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spending the very first hour of my 29th year the way god intented- writing gay fanfic in bed
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snekatiemainy · 5 months ago
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blame the zero progress im making on who knows where to the LOUD ASS MUSIC
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httpiastri · 1 year ago
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this christmas – op81
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ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?
genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)
pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri
other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes
warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think
word count: 13.8k (LMAO)
requested?: yes!!
author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3
second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...
third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)
and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3
hope you all enjoy !!
december 12th, 2:11pm
oscar has always loved winter.
it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.
he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.
so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.
when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.
him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.
"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."
"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.
"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."
oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.
"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.
"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."
the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"
oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"
"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"
"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.
unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.
lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 13th, 12:53am
it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.
you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.
oscar.
your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.
he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"
he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.
your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."
and then, you were just two.
you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.
"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.
"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.
"a month has never felt this long before."
you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.
as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.
you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.
then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.
talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.
"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"
you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"
"yeah."
and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.
"hey, i just wanted to-"
he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.
you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.
oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.
you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 13th, 10:24am
despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.
"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"
"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.
"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"
oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.
she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?
he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."
"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."
you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."
oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.
maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 14th, 3:09pm
lando thinks he's so smart.
when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.
but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"
"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.
oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.
it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.
your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.
"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.
you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."
oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."
festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.
he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.
of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.
oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 15th, 2:01am
sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.
who even decided to put him and you in the same room?
when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?
you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.
the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.
it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.
you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."
"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."
"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.
"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."
"well, everything is okay, so..."
there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.
just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-
but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.
you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.
thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.
as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.
oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"
you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.
he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."
you nod. "yeah, it does."
something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.
when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 16th, 9:02pm
the mistletoe has moved.
when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.
you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.
some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.
no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.
his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.
what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.
lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"
"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"
he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"
with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."
he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.
"exactly."
lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.
and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 17th, 1:43pm
"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.
oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."
you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.
you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.
when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.
"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"
"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."
"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."
he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."
"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."
you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.
"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."
you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.
your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.
"is this okay?"
you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."
when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-
"give me your other foot."
you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.
compose yourself, woman.
"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.
"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"
you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.
the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.
shit.
the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"
your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."
"oh, no skiing?"
"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.
"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.
"not at all..."
‎‎ ‎‎
december 18th, 10:32am
you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.
"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.
you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."
"but oscar promised to come along?"
you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.
did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?
"w-what?"
"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."
"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."
you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.
the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.
"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.
"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"
"i don't believe it."
"you don't have to, but it's the truth."
"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."
"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."
you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.
"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."
he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."
"i'm a horrible baker, though."
"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"
oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 18th, 8:14pm
oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.
he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.
as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.
you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.
"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"
kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."
"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.
"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."
oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."
you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"
you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.
you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.
"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.
"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.
"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.
you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.
you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.
and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.
wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.
"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.
"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"
just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.
lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."
lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.
it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 19th, 9:22pm
the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.
in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.
funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.
one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.
you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-
just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"
you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"
he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"
"touché."
your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-
of course it is.
the mistletoe.
oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."
"indeed..."
you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.
"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."
you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.
but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?
oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."
"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."
the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.
the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.
he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.
oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.
kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.
you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 23rd, 8:35am
the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.
the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.
now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.
you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.
you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"
you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."
his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."
and when he asks, you tell.
you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.
and then, he tells you his side.
he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.
you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 23rd, 5:46pm
"how are things going with oscar?"
lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.
"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.
"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."
"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."
lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."
"and what does that mean?!"
"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."
"what kind of plan?"
"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."
as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.
"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.
lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."
you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"
"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."
"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."
lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"
you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."
she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."
you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.
suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 24th, 10:23pm
just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?
for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.
there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.
in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."
"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.
"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.
you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.
the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."
speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."
"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."
you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"
he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."
you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."
"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."
‎‎ ‎‎‎
december 25th, 6:04pm
christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.
your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".
then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.
and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.
it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.
you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.
"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."
he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."
he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."
"you suck."
he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"
"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.
oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.
neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.
considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.
"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.
instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.
it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.
you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?
but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?
‎‎ ‎‎
december 25th, 11:28pm
charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.
"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.
the mistletoe.
"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."
his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."
you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.
he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-
"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."
he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.
"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"
"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"
"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."
"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"
"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"
oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.
he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.
he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.
"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.
he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.
"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"
"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."
"oh, is that so?"
"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."
"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"
"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.
"tricky, yes. but not impossible."
you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."
and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.
yet again, instant boner.
your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.
you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.
"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"
you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.
your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.
"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."
you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.
your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"
"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"
"as you wish."
as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"
he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"
"just you."
oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"
you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.
when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.
"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.
"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.
your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."
you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."
"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."
"the necklace is higher on my list, though."
oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."
you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"
"apologize. now."
his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"
he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.
but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.
‎‎ ‎‎
december 26th, 12:56pm
packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.
you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.
but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.
oscar.
you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.
"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.
"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.
charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."
"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.
"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."
with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.
finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.
"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.
you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."
"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."
before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.
and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."
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sturnalsm · 6 months ago
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𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢
(M.S)
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summary: you and Matt dont like eachother, you hang all the time, only because of his brothers tho. Chris and Nick went out to pick Chris's girlfriend and left you and Matt alone. you are in the living room on your phones and Matt completely ignores you
!! WARNINGS !! : make out, smut, choking, biting, pet names, swearing
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it was like 11pm or something, you didnt even knew the time, Chris and Nick went to pick uo Chris's girlfriend for god knows what reason why, its not like you hated her but you didnt liked her either, she was annoying you, nothing more, nothing less. but the worst part is that they left you and Matt alone. right now you were doing nothing but sitting on the couch in the living room on your phones.
Matt was literally ignoring you, 10 minutes ago you asked him if he can give you his charger, silence. he just kept scrolling on tik tok do you got up and got it. not a big deal tho. you were scrolling on tik tok as well when an edit of him pops up, but you didnt scrolled and you kept watching it and watching it when.. "what is that video that you're staying on for the past 5 minutes can you fucking scroll or something, its pissing me off" Matt finally spoke complaining about the video, he didnt knew it was an edit of him..
"what are you watching anyway? let me see" and thats when you didnt knew what to say so you immediately scrolled down. "oh uh i' nothing.." he looks at your and grabs your phone scrolling to the upper video. "is that me?!" he says in shock "MATT GIVE ME MY PHONE C'M ONNNN" he laughs as he holds your phone oht of reach "why are you watching edits of me huh" "it just poped up, please give me my phone Matthew" he kept your phone still out of reach speaking again "you like me or sum'?" he asked with a smirk "ME?! LIKE YOU?" you say like its not obvious.. "are you sure about that, sweetheart?" "100%" you say as you start blushing. He takes a seat next to you, your thighs touching each other. He leans closer to you, his breath warm on your ear "You're a bad liar, you know that?" "im not lying now give me my phone" He doesn’t move, his body remaining close to yours, the proximity between you increasing "You’ll just go back to watching edits of me, right?" you roll your eyes at his words. "dont act like you dont watch my Instagram posts all day, tough guy" He rolls his eyes at your comment, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks "You’re one to talk, you never stop thinking about me." awhhh is someone blushing" you say jokingly making him a little mad. He rolls his eyes again, his cheeks still a bit red "Stop talking, I swear to god" you look him in the eyes "or what?" he moves closer to you, his body practically pressing against yours "Or I'll make you stop talking" you smirk at his comment he grins mischievously, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer to him "I have my ways." you smirk at him "show me then"
he suddenly lifts you up, placing you in his lap, completely straddling him. His hands move to the small of your back as he gazes at you "Now you're trapped." you instantly blush "too bad" he smirks"You say that as if you don’t secretly like it." he laughs, one of his hands tracing circles on the skin of your waist, just underneath the edge of your shirt "Don’t lie to me. We both know you love being this close to me." "who said that i love it?" you keep teasing him he rolls his eyes again, growing more and more impatient. His hand on your hip is gripping tighter, his fingers pressing into your skin "You’re a terrible liar. Your body language gives you away. You're enjoying this just as much as I am." "mm...no im not" you love teasing him, you know he is going insane by it and you're here for it. he moves his face closer to yours, his breath warm on your ear again "So if I started kissing your neck right now, you wouldn’t like it at all?" "oh fuck.." you said to your self. he chuckles, his lips grazing against your neck. he places a soft kiss just below your ear, his tongue tracing a slow, torturous trail down to your collarbone “You were saying something?” "shut up.." he lets out a low chuckle, his lips still on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses across your skin "Why should I? I like hearing the cute little noises you make." you bite your lip at the feeling of his lips on your neck which drove you crazy and you wanted more.."Matt.." she moans
he grins against your neck, his lips moving lower towards your collarbone, leaving marks as he goes "Hearing you moan my name is such a turn on, you know that?" "oh look who's turned on" he pulls back for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, a slight smirk on his lips* "Yes, I am. Your little moans are driving me crazy." you smirk "stop teasing me then" you take a deep breath "please.." he chuckles, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter "Please what? Use your words, darling." "please matt i want you so bad.." he laughs softly, a sense of satisfaction in his voice "Beg for me? You really are desperate for me, aren’t you? Tell me you need me, darling. Say it and I’ll give you whatever you want." "i need you so bad.." he moans softly, pulling you even closer to him, your bodies pressed together, so close there’s only centimeters of space between you, he looks at you for a few seconds befire grabbing you by the waist and slamming his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. Matt immediately deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into the skin. he grabs your neck as he starts kissing you once again his tounge sliding into your mouth exploring every inch of it.
she slowly starts moving her hips on his lap. he moans against your lips, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, holding you even closer to him. He can feel you moving against his lap, the sensation driving him wild* "Mm, you’re teasing me again, aren’t you? You know what that does to me?" "hm, i dont know, what does it do to you baby" he moans as you call him baby, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering against yours "Seeing you move against me like this? It makes me want to do so many things to you." you smirk at him, you know exactlywhat youre doing and you love the way he loses control "what things? he looks at you "Mmm, I could show you..." he moves his lips to your ear, his teeth gently tugging on your lobe "You sure you want me to show you? Once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself." "dont stop." you say as you look him in the eyes. "you think you can take me huh?" he slowly slides his hands under your skirt sliding his hands slowly to the inside of your thighs "please dont tease me Matt.." you roll your head back moaning quietly. he looks at you with a smirk sliding one of his hands under your panties doing circles on your clit. "fuck.." you moan. he looks at your as he slowly pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to moan even louder. he starts moving his fingers faster. before you could think he puts a second finger stretching you out. "matt ohmygod.." he smirks "if you cznt take my fingers how are you going to take my cock whore?" his fingers going deeper you hitting that one spot which made you go wild. "matt i nee- *moans* i need your cock please" you get the sentence out of your mouth in one go. "so needy huh?" he looks up at you still with his fingers in you going faster and faster. he stops and gets them out of you "open your mouth" you obey as he puts his fingers in your mouth "suck, doll" you start sucking his fingers. "youre going to listen to me and youre going to listen to me good." he gets his fingers out of your mouth grabbing your waist and making you stand infront of him as he gets up as well. "on all fours doll"
you go down infront of him on your knees and hands. he starts unbuttoning his jeans taking them off as well as his boxers till his knees. "suck." you look up at him and get his cock in your hands stroking him a few times before taking him into your mouth "oh fuck.." he sahs as his breat hitches. "kee..keep going" you starts sucking him faster making him go wild. "shit..im going to cum.." as you hear those words you go faster again knowing how good you make him feel. soon he cums in your mouth making you shallow every drop. "good girl, you can get up now." you get up, he grabs your hand and pushes you against the wall facing him. he starts taking off you tshirt, your pants then your panties leaving you completely naked. he looks at you "turn around baby" you obey again. "now tell me..do you want my cock inside you huh?" he says, his breath on your ear, his hands on your waist.. "matt please..fuck me already you're teasing me too much please i need it bad.." he smirks at your response spanking your ass before slamming aggressively into you. "MATTHEW" you scream his name making him go crazy. he doesn't say anything he just goes deeper and faster inside of you, your eyes bluring with every thrust. he grabbed you waist "bend over" you put your hands on the wall and bend over for him. "fuck yes.." he starts going even faster than before making you scream and moan his name. he puts his hands on your neck choking you.
you were going insane, his cock felt so good inside of you. you were going literally insane from every thrust. he knew what he was doing and he knew you loved it. "you are..so thigh.." he puts his both hands on your back making you bend over ven harder, causing you to moan. "im..g- goin to c..cum Matt..fuck" he puts his hands on your hips now "go ahead baby" your legs start shaking you barley can stand on them. after a few seconds you make a mess on his cock. your cum going down by your thighs and on the floor.. "you're such a good girl ma'." he says grabbing your waist and turning you around. he kisses your lips picking you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist. he puts you on the sofa gently going down to your neck leaving red marks, he sucks and botes onto your neck causing you to moan. "you're a moaning mess" he looks up at you. "lets clean you up sweetheart "....
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HELLOQOOAOAKAJSJQOWK SORRY FOR THE SHORT STORY I DIDNT HAD MUCH IDEAS BUT STILLLWIDI HOPE YOU LIKE IT
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barbies1shots · 6 months ago
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part3 of toxic!sukuna , prt1 , prt2
this one is kinda freaky..
not proof read
@hazzelle-kento for the idea !! thank you😉 this might turn into a series ..
☆- predator/pray dynamics , size kink , overstim (cant help myself) , stalking , fem!waitress!reader, batshit crazy!sukuna, slight misogyny , degradation, non-con>dub-con , possessive themes , body shaming , hair pulling , name calling , unprotected secs (wrap your willy pls)
thinking about toxic!sukuna and his inability to keep you off his mind. the way you cuss him out because he didn't put up dishes like you asked. or the way you stare him down when he doesn't take his shoes off before entering the house.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who denies that you actually want to break up with him. who said you couldnt break up with him.
why would you break up with him when he didn't do anything?
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is just so unaware of the toxic things he did. restricting what you wear and who you go out with. lashing out at you when he asked a simple question. brushing you off when he came back late and smelled like alcohol.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who told you a top looks horrible on you. that it wasn't your color, and it was too tight, making you look fat. all because he wanted you to change.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who heard your sniffles from the other room but wanted to hear more of them. just because he's mean
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is in denial and in complete confusion when you put a restraining order on him
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who claims he never put any hands on you.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who quite literally has internal conflicts on what to do. leave you alone, let you have your space youve been complaining about or come pounding on your door and fuck you to sleep.
thinking about toxic!sukuna who wouldn't respect any boundaries you've made and would invade your personal space.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who would contact you even when you blocked him on everything. instagram, SMS, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, facebook, google chat, EMAIL, yet the man still finds a way to messsge you.
' you still mad ? '
thinking about toxic!sukuna who doesn't care about your feelings at all. about how he only wants you for your mind- or for your body.
thinking about toxic!sukuna would try and corner you on your way back from a third shift at your work.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who literally dreams about chasing you and making you love him again.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who tries to explain that he's right wrong and that he only wants you.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who wants to be in every part of your mind. he wants to corrupt you, break you in, and make you maleable. just for him and his dirty pleasures.
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who succeeds in his dreams of chasing you.
why would you ever want to run from him?
thinking about toxic!sukuna, who chased you down the alleyway with you screaming at him to leave you alone.
"get the hell away from me, you damn psychopath! youre fucking crazy! you stalk me, message me, call me- i dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen!" the sounds of your shrill voice bounce off the dry walls on either side of you.
he followed you from your work to the little 'short-cut' home, and now he got you cornered in a deadend. you had black wedges and a skirt on- courtesy of your uniform regulations.
of course, he knew where you worked, why wouldnt he?
"come back baby, you know better." he snickered. his taller form was hiding by the darkness of the alleyway as it was well past 11PM.
you shuffled through your purse in search of something to defend yourself. pepper spray, a pocket knife, maybe keys. but came up empty.
why would you need to defend yourself anyway?
it sounded like his footsteps got closer as your movements were more frantic in trying to find something to fight Ryomen off with. you hand came in contact with your phone, and you raised it above your head before looking up and straight into the eyes of the devil himself.
"what are you looking for-" he asked in your face, his breath washed over you. as your nerves spiked, you threw your hand down so your phone came in contact with his forhead. "argh- you stupid cunt!" he grunted out as his face contorted in straight fury and disbelief.
did you... just strike him?
you stomped on his foot with your heel, and you earned another pained groan. you immediately went around him to run off, run into someone to help you, run into the light- something. you ran, your wedges rendering your full ability to move, but you had to make due.
your phone layed cracked at the back of the alleyway but atleast you had your purse? the entrance of the alleyway came closer than before, and you made it about 2 full steps into the light of the streetlight before a rough hand pulled you back by the hair.
"no- no, oh my damn, let go, Ryomen!" you screamed in frustration. his other hand came in, covered your mouth before taking your struggling body and pushing you against the wall.
why would he let you go when he just got you back?
he held you there, his face red and burning by the way you swung at him without hesitation. his eyes didnt lie, and they were filled with hatred but longing.
"youre mine, im not letting you go." he growled into your face after his let his stinging grip away from your hair. his hand ran down his face and he sighed loudly, "you are just as predictable as any other woman." he looked bored.
"you hit me, step on my foot, and then try to run?" he asked. your eyes stung when he pressed your head harder into the concrete wall.
"sounds like you need to lean your place again, yeah?" he concluded.
his hand moved from covering your mouth to grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to look at him. "been out of check for a while. ignoring me, blocking me, avoiding me, wanting to take a break from me? i think you have lost your mind, baby" he said as his fingers forced their way more into your skin.
"leave me alone-!" you tried to say before he pushed you roughly on the ground, you hit your tail bone, and he came in between your distraught legs and leaning over you. his rough hands came in contact with your body, tugging and pulling on your clothes. he ripped your blouse, and the bottons popped everywhere. he flipped uo your skirt so the waist band was up your tummy.
why would he leave you alone when you just look edible.
"ryomen- i asked you for a break for a reason!" you screamed at him as you tried to cover your body. you tried to grasp the last bits of your dignity, but as soon as he cupped your cunt through your underwear, it was left for good.
why would you ever want a break from him..?
the chase from the back of the alleyway and the adrenaline from him holding you against the wall made you wet. it turned you on that he was willing to chase and catch you.
he smirked as he slid your underwear to the left and slid a thick finger in between your soaked fold before finding your clit and pressing harshly into the little nub.
"uhh-" you groaned at the feeling, he went hard and rough, not caring if it didnt hurt or not. you squirmed as your hips jerked and tried to scoot away from the stimulation.
he put his other hand on your hip, pulling you close as his fingers dipped lower and probbed at your entrance. "youre about to be in for a ride, you little bitch." he growled and forced his two dry fingers into your cunt, immediately finding your g-spot and abusing it.
your back arched as your thighs came up to your chest and closed around his arm, "Ryomen- please! I cant do this.." you whined out as your hips grinded against his fingers.
he smirked over you as you whined and arched your back, "cmon' cunt- cum for me" he demanded. he pressed a thumb into your clit, rubbing it as he fucking your cunt wet.
as you were recovering from one of your intense orgasams, he looked over you. his eyes drifted from your blissed out face to your shivering torso to your trembling thighs and hips. he licked your liquids from his fingers and slotted himself between your thighs.
why would you ever leave him when he is just perfect for you?
"time for the main event, yeah baby?" he snickered and started unbuckling his pants, unzipping them and pulling his underwear under his ballsack. he grabbed your calf and held it up by his head as he leaned in and stuffed his face into your sweaty neck.
his large mushroom tip nudged your entrance, and you tensed up as he started to push in. he was reforming your insides just to match around him, "cmon, whore... take it all.." ryomen groaned into your neck. he resisted the urge to bite into you as he listened to your sobs.
he raised back on his haunches when he bottomed out and quickly set a rough pace. your pleas and little whines only egging him further the more your worked up.
he let go of your leg to rest on his shoulder and started to grope your tits, kneeding them in one hand while tweaking one in another.
"youre being rough, ryomen! ugh- be gentle.." you whimpered. he shook his hand as he smirked and started to actually plunge into you. thrusting his hips and pulling you back by your tits as leverage.
plap! plap! plap! was the wet sounds of his balls hitting your ass.
he only sped up as he got lost in the pleasure, chasing his and fucking you complete stupid. your neck stretched as you felt another orgasm take over you and your mind felt blank. only thinking about ryomen, ryomen, dick, dick, ryomen.
he saw your face and shook his head and took one hand from your tits to the front of your head and forced your head to look at where hes fucking you open at. your back in an awkward yet painful position as you started to groan.
"you can't escape me, your morsel. you belong to me! i will kill you before you ever get any other thoughts of trying to leave me again. I control you. You are mine."
left unfinished cs ive gotten lazy and unmotivated. let me know what you think !!
toxic!sukuna part 1
toxic!sukuna part 2
revenge on toxic!sukuna
@aizawasbarb
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skzooweemama · 1 year ago
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Y/n tickling the members to get what she (or they, whichever gender you write for!) wants??
I feel like tiny fics of that would be sososoo adorable😫
Ty but you can ignore this if you want!😅
yesss this is my fav kind of tk stuff 😈😈
tiny fics it is!
plz excuse how long i've been gone- life kinda took me through the ringer in the last two months...
but i'm back for now!! and i wanted to say thanks for 100 followers! y'all are the best!!
i hope you all had a happy holiday season!! enjoy!!
~~~
Bang Chan:
chan was unaware that he was no longer alone until he felt a soft touch on his back that startled him so much he nearly screamed. he hadn't heard the door open while wearing his recording headphones, and now he was paying for it. whipping around in the chair, chan's racing heart was immediately calmed upon seeing you standing behind him. he sighed in relief as he pulled his headphones down to sit around his neck.
"jesus- you scared me..." chan groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"i'm sorry, channie. i didn't mean to startle you." you replied, smiling sheepishly. chan nodded, turning back to save what he was working on. "how's it going?"
chan hummed. "well, i can't get this chord progression right and the defaults on this program are pretty hard to change, so not too great..." he trailed off again, eyes focused on the audio files disguised as colorful bars on his monitor.
you nodded in understanding (even though chan's back was to you) and glanced at the clock on your phone. it was nearing 11pm and it was clear he wasn't gonna get much further without some sleep.
"do you maybe wanna call it a night?" you asked, your tone soft as your hands made their way to his shoulders. he was holding a lot of tension there. again.
"is that why you're here?" chan shot back, causing you to roll your eyes.
"i'm just worried about you, baby. seriously, all you're doing right now is getting yourself worked up. wouldn't some sleep help?" you were trying to be diplomatic, but here was your boyfriend, stubborn as always.
"you know how sleep is."
"alright, now you're just being difficult. c'mon, i made dinner." you said finally, going to grab his coat from the coat rack. of course, chan did not listen and was still typing away when you came back. "christopher bahng, let's go."
and yet again, he ignored you.
you groaned loudly and threw his coat down, now determined to get his butt up and out of this studio. for a moment, you played with the idea of giving him one last warning, but... it really had been too long since you've seen him laugh anyway.
“your funeral…” you muttered, reaching around the back of the chair to grab at chan’s sides.
“what are you- AH!!” he cried out as soon he felt your fingers on his ticklish skin and then broke off into his squeaky giggles. “wait!! nahaha!!”
“i’ll only stop if you agree to come home~" you singsonged, your fingers tickling anywhere you could reach as chan thrashed in his seat. you knew how ticklish he was, he wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer.
chan shook his head "no" for only a moment before he felt your fingers dig into his lowest ribs. "NAHAHA OKAY!!" he relented, giggling madly. you took your hands away as he caught his breath. "alright, lehet's... let's go home now."
you chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. "that's what i like to hear!"
Lee Know:
sometimes eating really took too much energy. it was a complete hassle, especially now. you were so close to finishing a giant assignment for university and you were completely locked in. of course, this is the moment your stomach decided to inform you that it is empty.
the hunger pains hit you like a truck, and you groaned as your train of thought was completely derailed. a glance at the time told you that you had been working for hours, which must've been the reason why you were feeling ravenous.
after much deliberation, you decided that you were at a decent stopping point on your assignment, especially seeing as it wasn't due for another couple days. time to go find some food.
the hallway was pitch black when you finally emerged from your office. it had become pretty stuffy in the time you were in there and you took a deep breath as you made your way to the kitchen. it was dark in there as well, and you assumed minho had probably gone to bed awhile ago.
no matter! you were perfectly capable of making yourself something to eat.
at least, that's what you thought before you ended up standing in the refrigerator light, staring down all the options before you. it was much too overwhelming for your tired brain to handle and you ended up standing there for much longer than intended.
arms snaking around your waist and a nose burying itself into your neck was enough to snap you out of your haze.
"what're you doing, jagi?" minho purred in your ear as you grasped at the arms around you.
you leaned back into him. "'m hungry..." you sighed, shutting your eyes briefly.
minho huffed out a small laugh. "yeah? you should eat something. staring at the food won't do anything."
you groaned and turned towards him, wrapping him in an embrace of your own. "i'm too tireddd..." you whined.
"awe, you're too tired? my poor baby." minho hummed, and you could practically feel him smiling against your shoulder.
"don't tease me." you said, smacking his back lightly. "you should be making me food, though. i worked really hard today. i deserve it."
"do you?" he fired back, tone lilting and even more teasing now that you were getting worked up.
"yes! will you? please?" you pulled away from the hug just slightly to give him your best puppy eyes.
minho hummed like he was thinking. "i dunno... i'm kind of tired too..."
"minnn!" you whined once again, squeezing him tightly. as you did, your fingers dug into his sides just slightly, causing him to jolt in your hold.
"yah! don't do that!" minho cried out, suddenly desperate to escape from you.
you laughed as you realized what had happened and dug into his sides once again. "do what? hm?" he bit back a squeal and pushed at your shoulders. "if it tickles so bad, make me food~" you cooed.
minho's blushing face and red were illuminated by the light of the fridge. he looked so cute, but of course he still had to be sassy. "starve." he choked out, still fighting his own laughter.
you raised an eyebrow. "oh? if you won't make me any food, i guess i'll have to look elsewhere." you shrugged and gave him a devilish smirk, before diving forward to begin to nibble at his sensitive neck.
"AHH!! NOHO!!" minho laughed, shoving at your harder now. you held him fast and giggled into his neck at his reactions, which brought out his snorting and made you giggle harder.
the two of you stood in the soft light of the refrigerator, you tickling and minho laughing and trying to fight you off, until he finally relented and agreed to make you some food. he huffed and puffed and called you annoying, but you knew he didn't mean it. it was his fault that he was so sensitive, after all.
Changbin:
it almost seemed like the clock was moving extra slow to taunt you. when changbin said he'd be at the gym for a while, you didn't realize he would be gone this long. it had been nearly 3 hours! you couldn't imagine what he was doing that took so long. stray kids did have a big comeback tour soon, but usually that meant they'd rest in the weeks before they left. surely chan wasn't encouraging changbin to work out this much.
just as you were about to send a text to check in on him, you heard the front door open. moments later, changbin came around the corner and into the dining room where you were sat, doing some work.
"hi baby! how was the gym?" you greeted, beaming at him.
your smile faltered a bit when you took in his appearance. he looked tired and worried, with his brow drawn up and a far-away look in his eyes. you also noticed his hair was damp with sweat, meaning he didn't shower at the gym like normal.
he offered you a small smile and came over to kiss your forehead softly. "it was alright, nothing special." he patted your shoulder and turned to head down the hall. "i'm going to take a shower."
changbin was gone for a quite a while, and in that time you made dinner for the both of you and waited patiently for him to come out. the shower eventually stopped, but instead of him coming to investigate the smell of food like he usually would, you heard the bedroom door shut. you decided to give him some space and ate alone. after another hour, you decided to bring the food to him, just in case he was really too tired to come eat.
"baby?" you called into the bedroom before opening up the door all the way. "i have food for you! do you-," you cut yourself off as your eyes adjusted to the dim light in the bedroom.
changbin was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, legs drawn up to his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"oh my god." you whispered, quickly setting the food on the dresser and practically falling to the floor to take him into your arms. "bin, my baby, what's wrong?"
changbin leaned into your embrace and sniffled, choking back a sob. "the comeback- i don't look good enough- i can't-," he barely got the words out, but you understood immediately.
"oh bin, you're so beautiful and strong- you know all your fans admire you for it!" you cradled the back of his head as he leaned into you and kissed the side of his head. "i do too, of course i do... please don't think so negatively of yourself."
changbin nodded against your shoulder, hands fisted in the sweatshirt you were wearing. "i know, i know. 's hard sometimes."
you hummed in acknowledgement and moved so you could take his face in your hands. "it is, i have days like that too." you wiped at the tear stains on his puffy cheeks and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "but you help me out of them, yeah? so i'll help you too."
changbin nodded once again, flushing slightly at your actions. you giggled when he averted his gaze, trailing your hands down his neck and to his shoulders, and then to his chest. you gave him a teasing look and squeezed his pecs gently. he flushed a deeper shade of red, and bit his lip, swatting at your hands gently.
"you're so strong, my love. and so handsome. i can't help but feel you up~" you giggled, leaning forward to kiss his warm cheeks. changbin opened his mouth to say something, but instead a gasp came out when you ran your fingers over the ticklish spot on the side of his chest. "oh? are you feeling ticklish right now?"
changbin shook his head, intent on scrambling away from you. "bahaby, please!" he pleaded as you caught him in a bear hug.
once you had a good grip, you used your body weight to slow him down and dug into his weak spot with a fervor. changbin screamed immediately, throwing his head back and breaking into loud cackles right after. you laughed at his silly giggles and tickled him some more.
"do you promise to come to me next time you're feeling sad?" you asked once you thought he'd had enough.
"YEHES!!" changbin shrieked, still fighting you (but just barely). his face way flushed and more tears streaked his cheeks, but you knew these ones were good. you let him go, but not before drowning him in about a million kisses.
Hyunjin:
it had been about a year since you'd been able to go home to america, and honestly it was fine with you. sure, you missed your family and friends from back home, but you had made new friends here and met the love of your life. plus, your parents visited just last month. what was there to miss?
ah. that's right. american snacks.
korean snacks were good, but none of them were like what you had back home. none of them tasted like your childhood in the same way a good old bag of american cheetos did. sometimes you think you'd sell your body parts for just one taste of something overly processed from your home country.
when hyunjin ended up leaving for tour in the states, you knew this was your chance. while he was there, you sent him a list of snacks to bring back for you. and he did, arriving home about 9 weeks later with your goodies.
you tried your hardest to savor them, but unfortunately it was yet another good thing that was gone too soon. you were back to missing your snacks once again.
that was, until you came home one afternoon to see hyunjin with a collection of entirely new snacks.
"where did you get those?" you asked as soon as you laid eyes on the items.
"what, no hi first?" hyunjin snarked back at you, and you rolled your eyes.
"hi, baby." you said, not at all sarcastically. "where did you get those?"
hyunjin shrugged. "care package."
you looked at him dumbfounded. "from who?" as far as you knew, he had no american friends.
"your mom." he replied curtly, reaching to grab a small bag of oreo bites from the hoard.
"my mom?! and she didn't send anything for me?" you cried out dramatically, looking through the pile of packaging for any sign of a care package for you.
"it might've been addressed to me and you, but honestly i think i'll just keep it all to myself." hyunjin's voice was teasing, but his words made your blood boil. you leveled an icy glare at his stupidly handsome face.
"you better share." you growled, walking towards him slowly. he just shrugged and moved the pile closer to himself. "hwang hyunjin!"
hyunjin stuck his tongue out at you childishly. "make me~"
even though heat rose to your cheeks at his words, you still wanted those snacks. and maybe you wanted to humble your cheeky boyfriend just a little too.
"fine." you shrugged, giving hyunjin a devilish smile as you rounded the coffee table. you plopped down on the couch and tackled him onto his back, your hand immediately finding the familiar spot on his right side. hyunjin didn't put up much of a fight as you dug your fingers into the spot and burst into loud cackles. you cooed at him teasingly, moving so you caged him in beneath you. "aww, did someone wanna be tickled?"
"GAHAHA!! NOHOHO!!" he cried out, throwing his head back as more screams of mirth poured from his lips.
"no? are you sure? does that mean i can have some of the snacks?" you punctuated this question with a jab to his ribs on the left side, which had him gasping and reaching for your hands.
"WAHAHAIT!! AH- AHAHA!! PLEHEHEASE!!" hyunjin forced the words out between loud laughs, his hips bucking from beneath you. you leaned forward to see glistening trails of tears running down his cheeks. you didn't wanna kill him, so you let up on the attacks on his midsection in favor of scratching gently at his neck.
hyunjin was panting and squirming beneath you, soft giggles escaping him as he looked up at you with half-lidded, teary eyes. god, he was so attractive.
"so? are you done being a snack tyrant?" you asked, smiling down at him and dropping a kiss to his wet cheek.
hyunjin shivered when you accidentally scratched at the especially sensitive spot below his right ear, and nodded. "yehehes, yes i'm dohone!"
finally, you stopped your tickling and dropped a quick peck on his lips. "good! i've been craving cheetos like crazy." you chirped as you climbed off of him.
hyunjin sighed and watched you go searching through the pile. you were lucky he loved you so much. he didn't share snacks with just anyone after all.
Han:
"han jisung, i swear to everything that is good and holy, if you sing that song one more time, i'm going to freak out!"
"babyyyy! ed sheeran is so good! i can't help it!"
this had been an ongoing argument for most of the day. you just wanted some help decorating for christmas, and of course your wonderful boyfriend was more than willing to help. you expected a day of holiday music, a fire in the fire place, and maybe some hot cocoa. instead, jisung had officially ruined "shape of you" by ed sheeran (although, let's be honest, that song was pretty much ruined anyway). over and over and over again he sang the chorus. sometimes loud, sometimes soft, sometimes in english, and sometimes poorly translated in korean. he said he needed the practice for when they translated their own songs, but that seemed like an excuse.
regardless, you were at your wit's end and you just needed him to stop.
"my love, you know i adore your singing, but please pick a new song. there are so many nice christmas songs!" you said, rooting through box after box in search of your christmas tree star.
jisung was looking through a box of his own and sighed loudly at your words. "fineee. it's just stuck in my head!" you shot him a look. "...but i'll find something else to sing..." he grumbled in defeat.
"good. ah!" you reached into the box and pulled out the shiny gold star. "found it. wanna put it at the top of the tree for me, ji?" jisung immediately perked up and nodded, grabbing the star from you and quickly scaling the ladder you had set up next to the tree. you laughed and stood behind him, grasping his waist when he wobbled a bit as he reached to set the star on top. "be careful!" you scolded playfully, giving his waist a squeeze.
jisung nearly fell of the later again when he felt the squeeze, clasping his hands over yours as he buckled over with a yelp. you giggled and took your hands off him as he climbed down.
"sorry baby, i didn't mean to tickle you~" you cooed, kissing his reddening cheek. jisung pouted a bit at you, but when you moved to grab his hips again, he ran back to the boxes to find the lights and ornaments.
the two of you spent another hour decorating the tree without much more incident. the lights were sort of a pain to untangle after having been in storage, but eventually you had gotten them placed on the tree while jisung began to hang ornaments from the highest branches. after the lights were all plugged in, you went back to get some ornaments of your own. jisung was still stood on the ladder with his back turned to you when you heard a faint murmur.
"girl you know i want your love..." the sound just barely reached your ears, but it was enough to draw your attention.
"jisung. what was that?" you asked, crossing your arms. jisung made a coughing sound, glancing back at you briefly.
"um. nothing?" his words were unsure, and you knew he was being a little liar because of the blush sneaking up the back of his neck.
"oh really? did ed sheeran's ghost just invade our home then? because i was sure i heard someone singing shape of you again." you said, words teasing as you walked back over to where jisung stood on the ladder.
"yeah! yeah that must be it. i dunno what else it could be." he still wouldn't look at you.
"oh you don't? well i definitely do." with that, you reached up and started squeezing at his hips. jisung was just able to hang the last ornament in his grasp before he squealed and collapsed backwards. luckily he wasn't too far off the ground and you could catch him before he hurt himself.
you wrapped you arms around him, hands poised to attack his sensitive little waist. jisung craned his head back to look at you, his eyes wide and pleading.
"baby! please don't!! i'm sorry, i won't sing it again!" he whined, squirming in anticipation.
you gave him a look of faux sympathy before you dug right back into his flesh. the pinching, massaging, and scratching had jisung weak in the knees as loud laughter escaped him.
"GAHAHA!! NOHOHO!!" he shrieked, kicking out. you sure were glad that you were behind him now.
you giggled at his reactions and pressing ticklish kisses to the back of his neck, causing him to throw his head back and wack you in the nose.
immediately, you let him go with a cry of pain and cupped your throbbing nose. blood poured from your nostrils, covering your hands and face.
"oh no! oh no, baby, i'm so sorry-" jisung cried, pulling you into a tight hug, clearly not caring that he was wearing a white sweatshirt. when he pulled away, he took your face into his hands. "lemme see. i need to see if it's broken." after a trip to the bathroom to stem the bleeding and some poking and prodding, it was determined that nothing was broken. some cuddles on the couch healed your bruised ego, however, that was probably the last time you'd tickle your boyfriend for a while.
Felix:
"felixxx! you know i can't make them like you do... will you please help me?" you whined, throwing yourself dramatically on the bed.
you were on your period and absolutely fiending for some of your boyfriend's brownies. they were relatively simple to make, but you could never make them like felix did. and now he was outright refusing to make you any, instead playing games on his PC with seungmin. what were you supposed to do??
felix snorted out a laugh at your words but made no move to turn away from his game. he had been playing league of legends with seungmin since he got home from rehearsal. which was only like an hour ago, but still- didn't they get enough of each other already?
"are you even beating him?" you asked, now staring up at the ceiling.
felix let out an affirmative hum. "yep, he's losing. badly." he sounded way too smug.
you scoffed and sat back up. "yeah? i doubt it." you moved to stand beside his gaming chair and took a look at his monitor screen. it looked like felix was winning. "huh. surprising."
your boyfriend huffed at you and reached over to grab at your side.
"hey!" you cried out, jumping away from him and muttering, "jerk."
"watch it, i won't help you if you're mean to me."
you groaned, and sat back down on the foot of the bed. felix went back to his game and you watched him, praying he'd be done after this last round. the gentle clicking of his keyboard would be relaxing- if you weren't craving the brownies with every part of your being. no matter, you could be patient.
thankfully, by the time your patience had worn thin, felix was powering down his PC. you sat up, ready to go make the brownies and finally halt your craving in its tracks, when you were tackled back onto the bed. a head of blond hair started nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and the familiar tickling feeling make you jolt.
"gah! i thought we were gonna make brownies!" you cried out, making felix's chuckles reverberate through your body. in sharp contrast to your words, your hands just naturally slipped beneath his sweater and began to trace shapes on his back.
"'m tired." felix grumbled against your neck. you knew he was being a little shit to get you angry. you could practically feel him smirking.
"lix! please? can't we cuddle after?" you were getting more and more restless.
he made another noncommittal noise, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. literally.
"felix, if you don't get up and help me make brownies, i will tickle you within an inch of your life." as the threat left your mouth, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.
"i- what? GAH!"
you dug your fingers into his sides when you didn't hear an immediate "yes i'll help you", and felix immediately began to thrash on top of you, desperate to get away. but your hold was tight and you weren't budging until he gave you the answer you wanted.
"NAHAHA!! I'M SOHOHORRY PLEHEHEASE!!" felix screamed, barely able to speak through his laughter. he was so loud, especially since he was right by your ear. part of you hoped he learned his lesson soon, but the other, more sadistic part of you hoped you could tickle him until he passed out.
fortunately for felix, you did still want those brownies. you let up your attack just a bit so he could catch his breath and finally agree to help you out. he did, pulling away from you with a flushed face and frizzy hair, still giggling like a kid.
you smiled and smoothed his hair out, pressing a kiss to his lips before scooting off the bed. the rest of the evening was spent in the kitchen, felix teaching you how to perfect his recipe and you marveling at just how lucky you were.
Seungmin:
movie nights with all of the members of stray kids were your favorite, no contest. you always had so much fun when all nine of you gathered together to watch whatever film they voted on, either taking over one of the dorms or your apartment. in dating seungmin, you gained a whole friend group that you couldn't be more thankful for on top of a cute, caring, and funny boyfriend.
tonight, the movie was kill bill: volume 2 (you had watched the first one all together last week), and you all were wondering if the bride would actually kill bill this time. unfortunately, you never got the answer to that question because you ended up falling asleep only 30 minutes into the movie.
"hey," a soft voice roused you. "we're gonna head out, is seungmin okay staying here?"
you opened your eyes to make out the form of chan standing over you with a soft smile on his face. everyone else was standing by the door, and they waved "bye" when you looked over.
"yeah, yeah, no, he's fine. where is he-," as you went to sit up, you felt a weight on your lap and looked down to see seungmin fast asleep on your lap. chan giggled a bit at you, and you gave him a sheepish smile. "ah. yeah, he's fine."
"alright. let me know what you thought of the movie if you get a chance to finish it." he said, headed towards the door to join his members. you nodded and waved as they left.
after the front door shut, you rubbed your eyes and stretched, reaching for your phone on the coffee table beside you. the screen lit up and you saw that it was late. oh well, you had weekend off, as did seungmin.
your eyes moved to the boy sleeping in your lap. he was on his side facing you, his cheek squished against your thighs as he let out soft, hardly audible breaths. you smiled. he was pretty cute when he was asleep. he was cute all the time, but when he was sleeping he had the tendency to be significantly less annoying.
while you were perfectly content staying on the couch and allowing seungmin to use you as a pillow, your bladder had other ideas.
you really had to pee.
at first, you tried to move gently off of your lap, but either he was really heavy or you were really weak because he was not moving. no matter, you just had to wake him up. it wasn't ideal, especially because he gets grumpy after naps, but peeing yourself was not on your agenda tonight.
gently, you brushed his bangs away from his eyes and patted his cheek. "min? baby, i have to pee. why don't you go get some clothes to change into and i'll meet you in my bed?"
seungmin groaned, turning to bury his face further into your lap.
you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. "can you move just a bit? please?" no response from the sleepy boy. "kim seungmin, i swear to god..." you muttered.
suddenly, an idea came to you. it was mean, but you had no choice if he wasn't going to move on his own. you moved your hand from his hair and rested it on the nape of his neck. seungmin didn't react, so you gently scratched at his skin.
he shifted and tried to pull away from your hand while still using your legs as a pillow. you felt him start to shake as he tried to bite back his giggles. he was awake, that brat.
"seungmin, i know you're awake~," you cooed, bringing your other hand to double the attack on his neck. "better move or this will get a whole lot worse."
seungmin rolled over just enough so that you could see the sleepy smile on his lips as he giggled. "nohoho!"
"no? alright, whatever you say." changing tactics, you reached down and began to massage his sides quickly. your boyfriend let out a yelp of surprise and tried to roll away, which only ended up with him on the ground.
you followed him as he went, tickling wherever you could reach when he landed on his front. once he was fully off of you, you squeezed his hips one more time, patted his butt, and got up to run to the bathroom. seungmin whined at you, promising revenge.
he wasn't actually gonna do anything to you, he was too tired. that is, until you turned around before you reached the hallway and stuck your tongue out at him. oh, you were in for it.
I.N:
as much as you loved your boyfriend, sometimes he sucked, especially when you wanted to cuddle. granted, you knew when you started dating him that he was not one for a lot of physical touch. in fact it was one of the first things you learned about him.
however, once you started dating him, you realized that you were his kyptonite. he didn't like cuddling unless he was cuddling you. he hated to admit it, but it was true.
it was friday and your week had been complete shit. with changes happening to the company you worked for, you had been at risk of getting laid off. you didn't, thankfully, but you did lose a few coworkers that you were close to and now you had to take on their workload as well. all in all, it was beyond stressful and you just needed some affection.
jeongin knew that. of course he did.
so why was he cleaning the kitchen instead of joining you on the couch?
"innie! please? i'm so lonely..." you called from the couch, slumped over dramatically.
"in a minute, jagi. i have to finish cleaning up." he said, glancing up at you with a smile that was just big enough for his dimples to peek out. god, he would be the death of you.
you looked away from him to avoid flustering yourself and crossed your arms over your chest. "yeah, whatever. dinner wasn't even that messy..."
jeongin chuckled at your words and went back to cleaning.
about ten minutes later, you decided the kitchen was clean enough. you pulled yourself from the couch and walked into the kitchen, pulling him into a back hug.
"are you getting restless?" he asked, his voice teasing.
"i miss you..." you mumbled into his back.
"missed me? where have i been that caused you to miss me?" at his words, you reached beneath his sweatshirt and tweaked his side. he let out an "ah!" and tried to pull away from your grip.
you giggled. "don't be a smartass. come cuddle."
"i will, i will. i just need to- AH! dohon't!!" you cut him off with his own giggles as you started squeezing his sides again. jeongin collapsed forward, leaning against the counter as you tickled him gently.
you weren't sure where you got the idea to do this, but it seemed to be encouraging him to listen for once.
at least, that was until he suddenly broke free from your grasp and began to run like his life depended on it.
"hey!" you cried out, following him down the hallway.
jeongin slipped into the bedroom and tried to shut it before you could get in, but you caught the door before it swung shut and tackled him onto the bed. you boyfriend started laughing in anticipation before you even touched him, which was so cute that you couldn't just let him go now.
though he was stronger than you, you managed to pin him in a way that allowed you one free hand to wreck every spot you could reach. you squeezed his sides, scratched his tummy, counted his ribs, and even dug into his armpits when he tried to push you away.
jeongin was thoroughly exhausted by the time you were done with him, red, tear-streaked face and all. he was practically boneless as you let him go, only moving to pull you into his chest and press a kiss to your hair.
finally, you got the cuddles you craved (and one slightly vengeful boyfriend), and your shitty week suddenly had a bright side.
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green5quirrel · 10 months ago
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TL;DR: I think Monroe's striking and chiming clocks were underutilized for truly hilarious interruptions when the hour strikes and 5 or so clocks announce it in sync.
I think we've all looked over a very important detail in Nick having stayed over at Monroe's for a time. I feel like I REALLY want someone to explore this in a fanfiction of some sort.
Monroe has several "striking" clocks in his house. A striking clock (or just clock for those who differentiate clocks as striking and timepieces as non-striking) makes sounds every hour, half hour, or can chime every quarter hour depending on the number of mechanisms.
Monroe obviously has a grandfather clock (or grandmother clock as I'm not sure the height of it) thanks to him telling Hap not to touch it. So that is definitely a striking and chime clock. Or has the potential to be as such if it's not silenced. He also has potentially more than one cuckoo clock.
Can you imagine the absolute terror of a person who has never been in a house with more than one striking clock as it hits the hour or half hour for the first time.
Now, ideally Monroe will have silenced most of his clocks. I don't know. I don't have any working clocks. I don't know how most horologists do things at their private homes. If they find the striking nostalgic or welcomed. But let's err on the side that Monroe has been living alone for a long time and actually does find a few chimes and striking nostalgic after growing up with it as his dad seemed to also be into clocks.
Let's layer this with the fact that Nick has very sensitive hearing (though I'm not sure when that happens. I could have my timelines wrong). Despite that, you're just getting to sleep at around 11pm or midnight and for some reason have been oblivious to or accepting of the chimes during the day. Or this is your first night in your friend, Monroe's, house and suddenly the first floor below you erupts in various chimes and tunes.
Can you imagine?!
I'm actually kind of astounded that this was never properly explored in the. In not one scene does any of Monroe's clocks strike despite how long everyone is at his house. I mean, if I had clocks I'd at least appreciate one of them striking.
The point is, I really want to either write or read a fanfiction where either Rosalee or Nick or Hank experiences the sound of an hour in the most unexpected way and grumpily complains to a completely and adorably oblivious Monroe.
(It would also have been a great gag if in the middle of a dramatic conversation it struck the top of the hour and Monroe patiently waits for his clocks to sound off before continuing. And Nick/whoever he's talking to is just like "Seriously dude?" And he's like, "What? ...fine! I'll silence them. Jeez! I didn't ask you to be here anyway, man!")
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pascalsbby · 1 year ago
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People Talk
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Masterlist
Summary: 2.3k/ f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, brat tamer!joel
“Truth is, he’d been waiting for your mouth to form his name all day. He knew you’d be here, always were on the fourth regardless of what boy you were running around with or what was happening in college. This time you were here for good. Or for a while, until your daddy caught on to your problem.”
Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, unprotected p in v, slight stalker!joel, pet names, praise kink, dubcon, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth
Notes: In honor of 420 followers + no work tomorrow, here is a 4th of July, neighbor dbf!joel, quickly written and poorly looked over one shot. Love you!
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *
It was entirely too hot to be prancing around outside in that too-tight dress, pretending you missed all your daddy’s other friends- ignoring Joel purposely. Punishing him, swaying those hips towards every other man but him.
Then, you’re bending down to pick up the cornhole bags with no regard to his wandering eyes. Giving the guys hell for throwing them at you while you were walking behind the boards. Wearing red panties, white socks.
You return the bags to who they belong to, and suddenly you’re hanging off Tommy’s collar. Laughing at some dumb joke he’d probably muttered.
He offers you his beer, you take it with a giddy smile. “Oh, Tommy,” you giggled, singing his name.
How fuckin’ rude.
It was Joel’s turn. He’d seen enough of everyone else getting your attention. He walked towards the two of you, catching your gaze and holding it, intensely.
“Hi there, little lady.” Little? Hardly. At least where it mattered. But it slipped out of his mouth, more as a warning to how you were acting than anything else.
“Saved the best for last, did you?” He stepped closer, hand engulfing a beer bottle.
He nudged Tommy, fuck off.
His beard had taken on a tinge of gray, hugging his jawline and accentuating the strong contour beneath it. Wrinkles traced his neck, along with a permanent frown between his eyebrows. His skin was darker than last summer, he’d been outside working on his truck. His crow's feet had deepened with time, age.
"Hey, old man,” you dared step even closer, patting him on the back, “Feelin’ okay? I’ll go get your rocker if you need me to,” you teased.
“Long day for you, almost time for fireworks and then we can tuck ya into bed.” You continued, grinning. He could tell this is the reaction you wanted.
Teasing had always been your nature, kissing his cheek before running your fingernails against his back as you hugged hello, pressing your hips closer to his when saying goodbye. The sighs you would quietly let out as his ear passed your mouth.
You use to leave your blinds slightly ajar at dusk, enticing him to peek through and catch a glimpse of the show you put on, from the comfort of his own home. Most of the time he watched you apply lotion, focusing on your pretty, heavy tits.
A few hours later he’d see you mosey out, around 11pm, rolling and cursing cause it doesn’t turn out like you want it to. You end up smoking it anyways on the back porch.
You never could get your joints to light on the first try, either. Something else he added to his list.
He would watch your shoulders relax, your gaze follow the lightening bugs; the cicadas quiet for the frogs. Then you would dizzily sneak back in.
You started that a few years ago, picking up weed from some ex you’d brought from school one summer.
Joel imagined what your soft insides would feel like completely stoned, fucking in and out of your wetness. Sometimes he’d dip into his stash and smoke after you, using his hands in place of your mouth… your cunt.
It became a habit.
“Joel?” You asked. He stopped imagining your pussy kissing his cock.
Truth is, he’d been waiting for your mouth to form his name all day. He knew you’d be here, always were on the fourth regardless of what boy you were running around with or what was happening in college. This time you were here for good. Or for a while, until your daddy caught on to your problem.
“So you’re nice n’ graduated huh? Pretty and smart. Always knew you were gonna be somethin’,” he smirked. His eyes wandered lower than your lips. This time he didn’t stop. He was starting at your nipples through your dress, poking so pretty against the white material. They’re pierced.
Fuck. That’s new.
“You know what they say,” You leaned into him further, moving higher on your tippy toes to be face to face with him- almost.
“Mm, and what’s that?” He muttered, playfully.
You moved your hair behind your ear, looking deeply into his eyes, welcoming him in.
You want me so bad, he thought.
Then you brake his trance, and answered as if it was your turn to embarrass him. You backed up and talked in a normal-toned voice now.
“I don’t fuckin’ know, you’re the one who told me college wasn’t gonna make me any smarter. Step it up, old man- you’re fallin’ behind.”
God damnit, you were a fucking brat. And he knew it was wrong his cock hardened beneath your smart ass words.
But it didn’t stop him from indulging regardless.
He’d heard stories about you all over town since you got back. It’s been four weeks and you were already making a name for yourself, becoming a town problem.
“‘Ya know Dan’s little girl? A slut, apparently. Sheriff caught ‘er down at the lake with Andrew’s boy, said he’d call her daddy if it happened again.”
Stories of whose son did what to you when. This was a small town, and he knew you knew that.
Before you could pull completely away from him, he walked up beside you and leaned into your ear, tickling your hair falling against it.
“Be more careful who you’re suckin’ dick around, pretty. People talk.” He whispered.
You huffed at him, ready to protest but he continued, “Wouldn’t want your daddy knowin’, would ya?”
Embarrassment reddened your cheeks, eyes faltering with surprise for a moment.
“Mr. Miller, if you wanted to fuck me, you should have just asked.” You dared, saying it loud enough to make his entire body stiffen, he looks around to see if anyone heard. Then he shakes with anger at how fuckin’ stupid you’re being. No one else heard over the chattering and screaming kids, throwing snap pop fireworks onto the shimmering concrete.
Now would be a good time to teach her a lesson. No one’s listenin’ to the loud noises around them, all engulfed in their own happenings. No one would be lookin’ for her.
He’d had enough of you trying to put his reputation on the line. He reaches out, snags your arm and pulls you closer to him, forcing you to walk by his side towards the house. His body heat is radiating off of you.
It’s better he teaches you now, rather than someone else worse down the line.
“We’re gonna go inside and you’re gonna let me teach you somethin’,” he says through his teeth, leaning down into your ear, “first thing you’re gonna learn is silence, baby. Don’t say a fuckin’ word while you bend over that bed for me.” He pointed his eyes towards you with a nod. “Got it?”
He waited for confirmation.
“Oh sure, Joel,” you mocked, “whatever you want.”
“You’re just not gettin’ it are you?” He spat.
-
He’s pulling you up the stairs now, back door slamming. Everyone’s out back getting ready for the fireworks, setting out blankets and calming the children. There isn’t much light to see who is missing and who isn’t.
In front of you are Joel’s broad shoulders, left arm hanging behind him as his biceps flex from dragging you with him. He looks impending, massive, from the view you have a couple stairs down.
His grip stings, your hand starting to lose feeling. He hasn’t said a word the entire time you two have been in the house. Grunting here and there at the weight of you, not letting you move at your own pace.
The fun was gone.
“You’re scaring me, Joel.”
“Good, pretty girl. Someone needs to.”
He knows the exact path to your room, and he takes you there before busting the door open and throwing you inside behind him. He closes the door with one push of his arm.
The release of his grip knocks you to the floor in front of your bed. You catch yourself, wincing in the thud your body had made.
He didn’t apologize for it, he didn’t even help you up. He put his back against the corner of the room and was looking at you, waiting, arms crossed behind his back.
He wanted you to bend over.
His breathing was heavy and his eyes set a little lower, darker. You got up on your knees, facing him. Face red, your tears were starting to form out aggravation of how Joel was treating you, but also the tickle in your mound.
You locked eyes with him, shuffling close enough to him to reach out and unbuckle his belt. He let out a breathy chuckle, laughing at how pathetic you look- compared to your confidence from earlier.
You did what he asked, demanded, and stood up to bend yourself over your childhood bed. You spread your legs, allowing the air to hit your pussy, then your tight ring of muscle before he spit down on it, turning hour over so you’re on your back, centering himself to you.
“That’s right. Let me feel it, pretty.”
He didn’t even do you the favor of one finger to stretch you out a little. He sheathed himself into completely.
“Squeeze. Uh huh, just like that,” his mouth is barely open, in awe, looking down at you.
“I want you to watch me fuck you, okay? Can you do that?” His tone was sweeter, yet more condescending.
You lift your head, peering down at your angled body as your lips spread to suck him in, over and over and over.
“J..Joel, please.” You begged, gasping for reprise.
“It’s so much, I know. But look at you, sweet thing, you’re taking it so well. Stretching yourself on my cock so, so good.”
You pathetically whimper back. Words had left you minutes ago. And that was okay with you. Joel was taking what he wanted from you, but you wanted it just as much. So you shut up and took it.
“I know, I know, pretty girl. Shhhh,” he coos, shoving himself into you. He’s so fucking big, you’d never felt this much pressure inside of you before. You throw your arms against his chest as high as you can stretch them, trying to push him away, overwhelmed by him. Overstimulated from the depth of his cock and the tickle of his calloused fingers, running circles around your throbbing nerves.
A cry escapes your lips, and he takes it as a cry of want rather than pain.
He grabs both of your wrists in one hand then hits you. Your jaw slacks the same as your head as it fall one way. He reaches out and rubs your cheek, holding your head in his hand.
“I said be quiet, did I not? I knew this would be too much for you. No wonder the entire town knows who you’re fuckin’- they can hear you.”
Your cunt fluttered and then slowly dripped release against him.
You start to argue, no, beg for him to slow down a little. His frame is lit from the orange hued streetlights on the street below, his hair falling into his face, disheveled from how he was moving his body.
The sun was almost set when you two had come in, providing some light, but no one turned on a light. No one outside could see in. That wasn’t enough to promise this would stay hidden.
Joel drops your head and puts his palm over your gasping mouth.
His grunts above you are guttural. Joel throws his shoulders back, his head following. Fuck, it’s been so long. And you… you had decided you wanted to tease him with the neighborhood boys, with his brother.
“‘N you think any of those boys down there are gonna touch you like this?” Satisfaction filled your gut as he sat you up, holding him your arms so that the tip of his cock could kiss you deeper, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to keep the smirk off your face.
You knew you’d piss him off, hanging around Tommy like that. Looking at him like that. Bending down in front of him, taunting him while Joel stood on the side of the yard.
He noticed your grin. Oh, he hadn’t fucked it out of you yet.
“Daddy would be so sad to know that he raised a fucking slut. But that’s okay baby, I’m gonna teach you how to be a good southern bell. That’s just what you need, ain’t it?”
You didn’t answer him in time, too busy looking at your shaking thighs, burning and tired as his length stretched you further every time he pulled out and slammed back in again. You, creamy and white against his cock.
He reached out and grabbed your throat, shaking your head yes for him. “There you go. Yes.”
His grip tightened at the base of your throat, pushing out ungodly sounds until your stomach bursts with fire.
Your eyes roll back into your head, bitting your lip so hard that you can taste a familiar metallic taste. You went limp for a moment, taking what Joel had to give you.
“Tommy, I-“ You started to beg him, assure him nothing was going on between you two. You started the sentence with the wrong name.
“Did you cum so hard you forgot who was filling this pussy up? Stop saying his fuckin’ name,” he growled, pushing your face into the bed.
You stopped trying to talk and instead melted further into the feeling of Joel.
“Another thing we gotta teach you is knowin’ who you belong to.”
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saeivra · 2 months ago
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!BREAKING UP WITH ENHYPEN-JAY VER!
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warnings: angst. that's it.
Biting off your nails in pure anxiety was an understatement. you simply couldn't fathom how angry you were. First, he sent no messages to you for updates on how he was doing, after you repeatedly asked him to, then he completely ignored all the messages you sent him. wow, what a boyfriend.
~~~゚.+:。゚゚∩゚.+:。∩゚.+:。゚.+:。゚゚∩゚.+:。∩゚.+:。~~
The door slammed shut after Jay walked in, making you get up and walk toward him, with balled up fists. "Jay what the fuck? I called and messaged you countless times but you completely ignored it" you looked him in the eyes as he looked down. "Y/n not right now. Im too tired for all of this" "Jay im done. First you ignore me, than you completely downgrade what I asked you to do, than you say 'I'm too tired'? Jay this isn't okay" you looked at him dead serious, holding back from screaming at him. "I was busy, besides, I told you dating an idol boyfriend would come with it's negatives" "Jay you being an idol had nothing to do with this and you know that. You leaving me on read and hanging up is you, not your idol life. "Y/n whatever. Just go to sleep it's past 11pm." you signed and rolled your eyes "Jay I actually can't do this anymore. You are being ridiculous and I can't deal with this one side feeling of this relationship." You sighed, about to say the words you never thought you would say, but you did anyway. "Jay..I'm sorry..but this is it." Before he could get a chance to speak, you grabbed your purse and walked away, not looking back. Who knows? maybe you too really weren't meant for eachother.
a/n: im in my angst era😔😔 i was thinking of writing this in jays pov so PLS tell me what you think!!😋😋
perm tl: @jayparked
please remember that copyright is a thing, and i do not allow my fics to be copy pasted onto your device and reworded. this belongs to me, @saeivra! likes, reblogs and comments r encouraged! :))
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sissylittlefeather · 8 months ago
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Hi Sissy! If it’s not too late, could you do a Fic of Elvis based on the song “Help Me Make It Through the Night?” Like Elvis and you know you’re not good for each other, but you can’t stay away. Can develop into smut but if you’d prefer not, that’s okay too! If it’s too late, I completely understand! Thank you! 😊
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@peaceloveelvis Hi! Definitely not too late! First of all, this is one of my most favorite songs. I actually have a series planned to go with this song later, so stay tuned. But also, I haven't written anything without smut in a LONG TIME. This one came out this way and I might revisit it to expand on the smut later if there's interest, but I kind of like it without it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet!
Help Me Make It Through the Night
Warnings: none really, cussing, mentions of sex
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Elvis has been a part of your life since you met him during his Timex special with Frank Sinatra. The only thing you did more than make love relentlessly was fight endlessly. The nights were hot, but the mornings never failed to conclude with both of you yelling and at least one of you crying. There was no end to the way you loved each other or the way you managed to drive each other insane. There was always something to fight about and you left each other every time swearing you'd never be together again. But somehow, you'd end up in the same place and before you knew it you were naked in an elevator or in his backseat or in a bathroom or a hotel bed in some sketchy by-the-hour kind of place. Even after he got married, you didn't stop. Your pattern of fucking and fighting stayed the same.
In 1969, though, you had a particularly spirited tryst that ended with both of you saying things you regretted almost instantly. But you were both too stubborn to admit it, so instead you threw a shoe at him and screamed at him to get out and he called you a name and swore he'd never end up in your bed again. This time, the pain you caused cut so deep that you both insisted you'd never give in again. It was over, for real this time. The hurt was too much to make the good times worth it.
So, you did what any self-respecting woman would do. You married someone else.
When he heard about it, he broke an end table and all the things sitting on it in a fit of rage and jealousy and something else he was afraid to admit.
On your wedding night, you cried yourself to sleep with your new husband snoring quietly next to you in the bed.
Then, in 1971, you find yourself walking down the street and come upon a loud and frantic crowd. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you look to see what all the commotion is about. The crowd parts like ill-meaning clouds and he looks up at just the wrong moment.
His blue eyes pierce you straight through to your soul, even from across the street. Something inside you jumps and your hand goes to your throat. Memories of every time you've ever been together slam into you like a freight train and you're somewhere between ecstasy and wanting to die. By the look on his face, you can tell he's experiencing something similar. Everything inside you is screaming at you to go to him, but you feel the cold little ring on your finger and know that you can't. You turn and walk away as quickly as you can. He fights to get away from the crowd around him, but by the time he does, you're gone.
******
You're pacing the floor of your living room when the phone rings. Even several hours later, you haven't recovered from your encounter. You pick the phone up aggressively, annoyed to be distracted by the call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Presley would like you to meet him tonight at the Presidential Motel at 11pm." Your blood runs cold.
"Why?" The line clicks with no answer. He's left the ball in your court and you hate it. You won't meet him. You just won't. He's impossible.
But at 10:45pm you're in your car. You've spent the last several hours trying to remind yourself of all the reasons you hate him. You finally decide you're going to see him just to tell him that you don't care what he says; you were serious last time. This is not a thing anymore and it never will be again.
At 11:06pm, you sit in the parking lot of the motel, a battle raging inside you.
"This is stupid." You mutter, finally getting out of the car. At the desk, you ask which room Mr. John Burrows is staying in. The clerk tells you and you stomp towards his room getting more and more angry as you walk. The nerve of him to think he can just summon you like this.
You pound on the door with every ounce of rage your body can contain flowing through you. The door opens slowly and your heart skips. Why does he have to look so good?
"You came."
"What the fuck could you possibly want to say to me?! The last time you saw me you called me a whore and said you'd rather swallow a knife than see me again. So, whatever you have to-"
"I miss you."
"You... what?" He speaks again slowly and deliberately.
"I miss you." It feels like your stomach has fallen to your kneecaps. "I'm lonely, honey."
"Call your wife."
"Will ya just... no. I want you."
"Have you forgotten-"
"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry." He's never apologized to you before. You stand in stunned silence just outside the door.
"You're-"
"Sorry. Yes. Now, will you come in please?" You stand there completely lost. Finally, he grabs your arm and drags you into the room, shutting the door behind you.
"What the hell, Elvis?!" He pulls you close to him and presses his lips to yours. For a second, you melt into him. Then, you remember why you were mad and pull away angrily.
"No, I'm not-" He pulls you in again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you more deeply this time. You fight to get away, but he holds you tightly. Eventually you're able to escape his grasp and you push him backwards. He goes to grab you again and you slap him across the face. Your hands go to your mouth in shock and he looks at you stunned.
"Oh god, I'm-"
"I guess I deserved that." He walks to the bed and sits down. "You actually hate me, don't you?"
You stand there for a few seconds before sitting down beside him on the bed.
"No. I don't. But we said this was done."
"I know. I'm just... I'm alone, honey. And I miss you so much it hurts worse than being with you." You look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. It comes to you that he must be pretty desperate to put himself in this position.
"You're alone?"
"You know how it gets for me. There's people everywhere, but I just... I miss you."
"Why me?" He rolls his eyes and looks at you finally.
"You gonna make me say it?"
"Yes. If you want me to stay here, then-"
"I love you. I've been in love with you since I met you. You're the only one I want when I feel like this and it's been so long-" You reach out and put your hand on his knee and he looks down at it, setting his on top of yours, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.
You're used to these vulnerable moments from him. They're what has brought you together over and over throughout the years. So when he breaks down and sobs, you pull him into your arms and hold him without thinking. Somehow you end up lying in the bed with him cuddled tightly against you, head on your chest. You stroke his hair and hum quietly. This is a familiar position for the two of you and you've missed it more than you care to admit.
Eventually, his breathing evens out and you realize he's fallen asleep. You kick your shoes off and snuggle in to spend the night. As angry as you were, you can't deny him what he needs because the truth is you love him too and you always have. You kiss his forehead and hold him tightly. You've missed this too.
******
In the morning, you make love and it's sweet and sensual and exactly what you've both been needing. And this time you don't fight. Somewhere in the year you were apart, you grew. The love that you have is more important than anything that might separate you.
And as you lay naked together, the world opens up for you. He talks about leaving his wife and you decide your husband will be better off without you.
Will it happen? Will you finally find a way to be together in a way that works for you both? You don't know.
But you made it through this night together. Something tells you that you can make it through anything now.
******
The end?
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fall0utmind · 12 days ago
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Medical Leak CH11
Hiiii, it's been 2 weeks. I am so sorry. @myanmardoesnotexist how do you do it?
Lil life update, I got a new job just before I started this and it is pretty demanding so hence the slow updates. Also I got a new tat today wooooo!!!!! Also it's 11pm. I stayed up to edit this so now it is bed time lol
ao3
Anyways- here's ch11 - Valentino's POV of the last few chapters.
Let me know what you think!! It really keeps me going :)
Love y'all <333
A burst of air finally broke free from him when Marc crossed the finish line. Valentino had held his breath, his lips pursed into a thin line, throughout the entire and now his lungs were screaming at him. He tried to tamp down the smile threatening to break free, fearing it being caught on camera. Despite his best efforts, a surge of relief struck him; it was a twisted gratitude that Marc was finally on top again. A restoration to where he should be, as Valentino’s equal, his greatest rival. It was easier to feel all he felt for Marc when they were both legends of the sport; it made him feel more normal about being decidedly not normal. Being in love with Marc was a difficult pill to swallow, with years of bitter feuds and rivalry between them. When had it become love? Valentino did not know, but this was easier when he knew it could not be hero worship from Marc’s side, not when he could match Vale stride for stride. It made his craziness (his obsession) easier when the man he was obsessed with was simply so talented- a phenomenon in his own right.
The TV hanging up in the garage replayed back the clip of Marc crossing the line and celebrating, Valentino catalogued every second. The image cut to the Gresini garage where Dovi, Dani, and Jorge hugged in celebration. Surging jealousy snaked through Valentino as he caught the warmth in Dovi’s eyes which never strayed from the screen, his full attention captured by Marc and a small, pleased smile growing on his face. He clamped down on the possessiveness - he wanted but couldn’t have. It hurt more than he would have liked to admit. He desired every part of Marc- physically, and emotionally. And yet it was not Valentino who Marc had chosen, because he had realised too late and fucked it up beyond repair, and now he was fighting an uphill battle just to get Marc to look at him. It was a shock when he found the screen showing his own face staring back at him once more, his eyes devoid of emotion apart from the small creases in his forehead. The picture had moved on before Vale could change his expression.
Vale watched as Marc pulled up to the number one spot and leapt off his bike; he examined the natural way Marc threw himself into the team’s waiting arms- like he belonged there. Valentino tried to quash the rising sadness; it was his own fault that he was not there like Jorge, Dani, or Alex. When he was younger, he was always taught that envy was an ugly emotion, he hated that it fit him so well. Envious of the way Marc could match him on the bike, of the way that he could come back after a bad spell and still be so good. But most of all, he hated the way other people were allowed to stand by Marc’s side whilst Valentino wasn’t.
He wanted to leave. He stayed for the podium.
The top step was made for Marc. That’s what he decided, watching the younger man dance and sing, glowing in the evening sunlight. Vale couldn’t look away, completely enraptured by his ethereal beauty. Because at the crux of it all, Marc was beautiful, in both looks and personality. He was gorgeous. Valentino felt a sudden burst of want. He tried to shake it off.
(It didn’t work)
Instead, he had continued to stand, mentally capturing the way Marc looked after so long away from winning, the tangible relief rolling off of him. His eyes are wide and bright, dancing with happiness and humour. He looks glorious, otherworldly, like the sun. Valentino was scared to look in case he was blinded but was somehow unable to focus on anything else. Marc caught his eye, Valentino smiled until Marc ripped his gaze away, looking burnt but also more alive than he had in years. Vale didn’t think about the way Pecco and Enea got to sling their arms across Marc’s shoulders as they celebrated. He didn’t think about how Marc should be his to hold and to celebrate.  
(He did)
Pecco had been giving Valentino the cold shoulder since the previous night, barely acknowledging him that morning and ignoring him after the race. Luca was the same, although with less ignoring and more overt anger. Overall, it meant that there weren’t too many of his riders to debrief with post-race. He wasn’t sure when the boys had become so fond of Marc, whether it was over this weekend or before. A small part of him hated it, not knowing what was going on and feeling as though this strange, new thing had occurred without him even realising. Somewhere within him, he acknowledged that he didn’t want to share Marc; it was easier when the boys were ambivalent and he could have Marc to himself. Bez was the only one still talking to him (albeit slightly out of pure loyalty rather than wanting to), and even he looked somewhat uncomfortable whilst doing so. Vale supposed it was difficult to ignore someone when they were your boss and the owner of the team you rode for. But Marco had always been steadfast in his loyalty to Valentino, that was more apparent than ever. But if Marco’s allegiance was cracking ever so slightly after last night, then Vale had royally fucked up. Not that Valentino didn’t know this already, as uncomfortable as it was. It was painfully clear that he had a lot to fix.
*
Valentino walked back to his motorhome before the podium celebrations finished.  His brain was fixated on making a plan to get Marc back. It started with pulling on every media contact he knew in Italy to find out who the hell had gotten hold of Marc’s medical records. He tried desperately hard to push down the guilt threatening to engulf him. He had started all of this, he had lit the flame for the fuse. Now he had to make it right. A few phone calls later, anyone who had even glanced at the records, or written one word, was out of their job. He would make sure anyone else involved had all lost their jobs by the end of the day. He didn’t bother hiding who was on the other end of the phone. He also made sure it was very obvious who had done it. The message would become very clear, if you valued your job in the motorsport press industry, don’t fuck with Valentino Rossi or Marc Marquez.
His fans (or so-called fans) would be harder to root out. He didn’t know when they had turned against Marc, whether it was a slow change or a sudden surge of hatred post-Sepang. Either way, he drew a blank about how to fix it, it's not like he could threaten his fans. He sat in silence for some time, wracking his brain for ideas, only distracted by the alert Chime which sounded from his phone. A text flashed up on the screens, reminding him of his upcoming media.
It hit him like a train.
His relationship with Marc and the hatred which followed occurred in part due to what Vale said to the media. Surely if he publically supported Marc, his fans would change too. There was already some change, he had witnessed it in the last few months. Marc moving to Ducati and befriending more people on the grid appeared to make him more loved than ever. Even though many people still hated him, many loved the charismatic man who couldn’t lose without a fight. This weekend was a testament to both.
He jumped out of the chair and practically sprinted out the door. Valentino’s heart ached as he heard the loud cheering from the direction of the Gresini garage. He slowed down to a jog as he neared the media centre and caught his breath outside. Once he entered the building, he hovered for some time, pretending to watch the MotoGP riders who were taking to the press. Blessedly, Marc wasn’t there, presumably he had already done his media commitments for the day and was celebrating with his team. He watched as Franky and Bes spoke about their races, a sense of pride rising that his boys were doing well. There were a lot of long looks being sent his way, journalists curious about his presence or itching for an interview. He played up his disinterest a bit, waiting for the perfect opportunity. It came not long later when a familiar reporter waved him over. He approached under the guise of friendliness, offering pleasantries rather than an exclusive. It didn’t take long for them to ask and Valentino pretended to oblige with a winning smile, just this once.
They asked him exactly what he had expected. An analysis of Pecco’s performance, how it feels to no longer ride but to be at a race as a spectator, a comment on his own team's performance. He felt the journalist pause after the last question and raised his eyebrows in encouragement, hoping it would be what he wanted.
They asked about Marc.
Valentino launched into a tirade of praise, shocking both the interviewer and himself with his honesty. He found himself reflecting on Marc’s amazing seasons and meaning every word. Marc was a generational talent, one of the greatest, able to hold his own against some of the best riders of the time. Yes, he raced hard and yes he was sometimes an idiot on track but God, he was good.
He made a decision then and there, he might as well go all in and apologise too. So he did. The guilt had been eating him alive all day, so he dug deep and let some of it show. Marc was the strongest person he knew, this weekend only confirmed it. Maybe he could learn something from the younger man this weekend. An apology would be a start; he knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it was something- it made him feel lighter. He thought that the poor woman on the other side of the microphone looked 5 seconds away from fainting. He smiled and walked away.
*
Valentino found Luca after the celebrations had died down. Slipping through the pit lane towards the Honda garage felt remarkably similar to a walk of shame. He accosted Luca as he was packing up with the team. The glare that Luca sent him told Valentino exactly how his younger brother felt about seeing him. Exasperation didn’t even begin to cover it. Alas, Valentino still dragged Luca to the side, ignoring the dramatic huff his younger brother exhaled.
“How do I make it up to him?” Valentino asked, a pleading note to his tone.
Luca rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about stupid people. Valentino scowled and Luca relented.
“Talk to him, Valentino. You hurt him so you have to apologise. Make it up to him and for God's sake tell him the truth.” Luca grumbled, clearly frustrated at Valentino. The older man frowned in thought.
“How do I do that though?” Valentino questioned. It looked like Luca had to physically restrain himself from reacting. He turned away and exhaled loudly before turning around and pasting a fake pleasant smile on his face.
“Frankly, Valentino, it is a miracle you have gotten this far in life. You are meant to be charming and good with people. Surely that skill does not go out the window as soon as you’re within 5 feet of Marc?” Luca protested. He fell silent for a second, seemingly considering the words he said.
“Actually, scrap that, you’ve always been an idiot around Marc. I don’t know Valentino; you have to figure this out yourself. Get down on your knees if you have to don’t give me that look for God’s sake, I don’t mean like that. I mean you might have to plead, to ask for forgiveness. God knows you deserve it for what you did to him. Just don’t fuck it up again.” Luca growled.
Valentino felt like he had been slapped in the face. It was always interesting when someone said exactly what they thought to your face, and clearly, Luca had reached the end of his tether. Valentino glowered slightly as he recounted the words- he was not an idiot around Marc. He just sometimes forgot himself or got distracted. Or said the wrong thing. Or ended up screwing it up so bad that he might as well just continue to fuck it up than try to fix it. And-
Okay, maybe Valentino did have a tendency to forget his brain when it came to Marc. But it wasn’t his fault. He lifted his head to argue with Luca but by the time he’d worked through his thoughts, Luca had gone, fed up with his brother's antics. Valentino sighed, making a retreat to his motorhome to sulk until he came up with a better idea.
He spent a long time scrolling through social media, finding videos and photos of Marc winning from every angle and trying to cement a plan to seek forgiveness the didn't involve a blowjob. He tried not to let the bitterness engulf him when he saw who else was celebrating with the team. Gresini always posted their ridiculous celebrations online; Valentino secretly loved it. Marc looked happier than Vale had seen him in a long time, even as he was held and sprayed with champagne.
(Valentino refused to confront why he had spent 5 minutes re-watching that video alone, it had nothing to do with how gorgeous marc looked, restrained and soaked, his clothes sticking to his body.)
*
It had taken quite a bit of begging and bribery to find out where the Gresini team were heading to celebrate. He had tried Pecco with no luck, and Fabio had practically laughed in his face. He didn’t even bother with Alex or Dani or any of the others. In the end, it was Bez who had told him, shifting from foot to foot and refusing to meet his eyes. Valentino could only bring himself to feel slightly guilty at persuading the younger man to tell. He reasoned that Bez probably wouldn’t have cared two days ago, so what did it matter? He ended up joining Bez on the way to the club, having found a white shirt he deemed smart enough to work and a pair of black jeans. It would do.
Pecco rolled his eyes when Bez pulled Valentino over to the boys; Valentino smiled guiltily and bought them a round of drinks to make up for it. It kept them happy enough. He skirted around the room for the first 50 minutes, keeping his eyes out for a sign of Marc. He tried to avoid too many other people he knew, not wanting to draw attention to his presence.
When Marc did walk in, he was laughing, his face alight as he talked animatedly with his brother. His eyes flicked around the room, seemingly taking in the club’s deep crimson decor and ostentatious elegance. Valentino tried to blend into the background and remain inconspicuous but then he looked at Marc properly and all rationality fled him. Cazzo, he had clearly been oblivious to what he had missed out on for the last 13 years. Marc was dressed in all black, contrasting beautifully with his tanned skin whenever the strobes flashed and illuminated him. He wore a black button-down with the first few buttons undone, showing off a silver chain that caught the light and dipped below the shirt and across his chest. Black jeans hugged his ass and strong thighs before flaring into a wider leg. The red lights fell across his pretty face, illuminating his cheekbones and casting shadows across his jaw. Valentino knew he was staring, his jaw was practically on the floor. He swallowed, trying to break himself out of the spell.
His eyes followed Marc across the room and stuck as he draped his body across the bar. He tracked the brothers moving across the floor towards the table which Gresini had commanded. But he tore his eyes away when Dovi smiled at Marc, refusing to watch something that would inevitably cause him to get angry. Instead, he pulled away, strode back over to Pecco and the others and offered to buy another round.
An hour later, Valentino found himself surrounded by his boys, still stone-cold sober. He desperately needed a drink but refused to be inebriated for this conversation. Instead, he watched as the boys got progressively tipsier, and kept an eye on Marc when he thought no one was looking. Bez was halfway through a long-winded explanation of the latest cute thing Rubik had done when Vale spotted his opportunity. He excused himself from the group, ignoring Bez’s pout and Luca’s groan as he pushed through the crowd, following Marc. Valentino wasn’t surprised to see him surrounded by the older riders, as he had been all weekend. It appeared they had made themselves into Marc’s security personnel for the time being. He froze as he watched the group, the way Marc had settled into it; it made Valentino feel out of place in a way he rarely felt.
His stomach soured slightly as he observed how close Marc and Dovi were. It only got worse when Dovi plastered himself over Marc. The group were engaged in what seemed like a lively conversation. Interestingly, Jorge was holding Dani in a very non-platonic way, which wasn’t exactly news to Vale but also it took them long enough. He shuffled a light closer. When he was eventually in earshot and tuned into their conversations, he couldn’t prevent his face from scrunching up in disgust.
The blatantly flirting was one thing, but talking as if fucking Marc was something that he was allowed. And the comments that Marc was loud in bed, followed by his lack of denial. Vale baulked, he tried desperately to claw at the memories which he had repressed for so many years. Images of Marc moaning under him, once, just once, years ago. Right before Valentino had slammed the door shut in panic and left Marc heartbroken. A long time before Vale realised that Marc’s love was not unrequited. And now Andrea was the one who had Marc. The man hadn’t even won a Premier class championship, Valentino had seven.
The group before him fell silent, Dani had noticed him first. Awkwardness rolled off of Valentino; it was not a common emotion for him, more comfortable with the sour bitterness accompanying it. Marc catalogued every inch of him, from his face, which Vale desperately tried to school, to his toes, where he shifted uncomfortably in his shoes. He returned the gaze, feeling numb inside.
It took a lot of effort not to hit Dovi when he answered Valentino’s plea before Marc could, telling Vale on no uncertain terms to get lost. It made his blood boil, building within him until he felt ready to explode. But he couldn't do that, not in front of everyone; it wouldn’t be fair to Marc. He exhaled harshly, trying to calm his irritation and leaving without a second glance. All the while, he was trying to calm the anger rising inside of him. How dare Dovi act like that. Who did he think that he was speaking on Marc’s behalf and making decisions for him? Vale bit his tongue, stopping himself from storming back over in a fit of jealousy. He didn’t know where this was coming from. The sudden notion that he wanted Marc, wanted to cover him in marks and let the world know who he belonged to. It was like ever since yesterday the feelings of love were building; Marc was reeling Valentino in and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was snowballing out of control, an avalanche of emotions and desperation. Valentino needed Marc viscerally. He wanted the soft morning and the heated nights. He wanted Marc whimpering underneath and to know what Marc’s face looked like after an hour of teasing. He needed to know how Marc looked when he was tied to the headboard, his abs flexing and arms straining. Valentino was rapidly realising that he not only wanted the insane sex but also the sweet romance and pure devotion of true love. He wanted to cook his mother’s recipes for Marc, to buy him flowers, and to race around the ranch with him.
Valentino was so fucked.
He scampered away with his tail tucked between his legs and his mind racing with dirty thoughts. Thankfully, he quickly found the boys again; they wisely said nothing concerning his mood (he hoped they hadn’t been watching). He huffed out a breath when Pecco returned from the bar with a decent pour of whiskey for him, shooting him a thankful look. He tried to nurse the drink, but one soon turned to two and before long ten. Once he was suitably drunk, Valentino took to wandering around the club, letting himself be dragged into the throws of other teams who were out celebrating. It turned out that a lot of the MotoGP personnel had reason to celebrate tonight. Or maybe it was because Italy was closer to home for most. Either way, Valentino grew progressively drunker as he was passed around between acquaintances. He didn’t mind it much; it was easier to be around people who knew the sport than the usual sponsors or stakeholders. It felt less like an act when it was mechanics and engineers who knew Vale from Yamaha rather than Valentino Rossi, MotoGP legend and millionaire.
By the time he had done the rounds and extricated himself from the Ducati team (he had avoided them until he couldn’t leave it any longer without seeming rude), it was later than he would have liked. The group of academy boys had lost numbers at some point, with only a couple of them now loitering where Vale had left them. He scanned the room and mentally calculated where they all were. Franky was still hanging around the younger Marquez; they had spent much time together tonight, much to Vale’s surprise. Luca and Mig were by the bar, nursing their drinks sensibly. According to his brother, Pecco and Bez had disappeared long ago, with Celin following soon after. Despite searching the room rather intently, the younger members of the academy weren’t easily found. He spotted Bez’s wild curls first and was drawn to their group dancing amongst the throng of people writhing in the centre of the room. Shock coursed through Vale when he caught a glimpse of short brown curls and tanned skin. There, encased in Pecco’s arms, was Marc.
(which, firstly, what?)
Marc, who Valentino had thought was with Dovi- but considering how the boys (his boys) were touching him, Valentino was beginning to reconsider. Marc looked delectable in the low lights of the club, swinging his hips to the beat. Marco was pawing at him as if he couldn’t get enough, which was shocking enough without adding Pecco to the mix. Valentino stared, watching the glistening beads of sweat dripping below Marc’s shirt collar, visible even from this far away. It made his mouth run dry as he desperately tried to swallow.
For some inexplicable reason, Bez and Pecco kept touching him, their hands on his hips (Bez) or sliding down his shoulders (Pecco). The latter leant in to talk in Marc’s ear, prompting the older man to tilt his head and then lean back against Pecco to laugh obnoxiously. Before Marc could reply, Marco had pulled him away from Pecco by his hips, forcing them into the same space to dance; Marc was grinning. Something suspiciously like jealousy clawed at him, but he was unable to shift his attention. The temptation to make Bez and Pecco ride 20 extra laps at the next ranch session was itching at him.
He stared as they danced together, unashamed of his hot gaze. He knew Marc could tell that someone was watching by the way he kept glancing around the room, but he never caught Vale’s eyes. Cele's familiar mop of hair eventually appeared over Marco’s shoulder, causing Bez to shift his attention away from Marc and towards Cele, who instantly clung to him, as usual. Valentino observed in interest as Marc made a comment which made Pecco light up with laughter. Bez craned his neck towards Marc, who had managed to break free from his grip and said something that Valentino was too far away to hear. Marc’s face dropped in confusion as he inclined his head at Bez. Vale frowned, he preferred it when Marc looked carefree and happy. Before Valentino could even register what had happened, Marc was stalking across the floor, away from a concerned-looking Pecco and a bewildered Bez. Vale looked away but not before seeing Pecco gesturing to his friend and talking rapidly with a scowl on his face.
Holding himself back from following Marc immediately was harder than he would have liked, but Vale managed to wait a whole 10 minutes before he stumbled after Marc into the smoking area. It was only once the cooler night air hit him that he realised how drunk he was. Slotting himself up against Marc was probably not his smartest idea. It was however smarter than sinking to his knees at Marc’s feet and begging for forgiveness. Because apparently, Valentino was no longer above that. He felt flayed alive as Marc's round eyes stared back at him, his mouth agape.  He was begging without even consciously thinking through the words, a swirling mixture of intoxication and desperation spilling out of his mouth.
He kept his gaze fixed above him as he rambled, cataloguing the younger man’s appearance. Marc always looked gorgeous but he was particularly perfect at this angle, with Vale on his knee before him. He thought about blowing Marc until he cried, he would refuse to stop, even if he begged. He wanted to know how Marc tasted Valentino choked on the thought. He needed to get back on track, to convince Marc to give him a chance. The truth spilling out of his mouth was slightly horrifying; he would inevitably regret it in the morning, but he was too desperate to stop. Guilt ate him alive, chewing him up from the insight. It was his fault, his fault that Marc was almost destroyed, his fault that Marc almost died. It made him want to rip his hair out.
When Valentino learnt that fucking Uccio had gone behind his back and fucked things up even more, anger engulfed him. It was a heavy concoction of incandescent rage and betrayal. A mixture of anger at himself for all he had done and rage at the people who had made it worse. It was accompanied by the slicing pain that Valentino now knew Marc had faced over the past ten years. It was gut-wrenching. Knowing that he had screwed up so badly was difficult to face. It was about time that he accepted his responsibility, rather than doubling down on an old feud and refusing to let the wounds heal. He was enraged at his best friend’s actions but looking back, he could see the profound influence Uccio’s words had on fueling the fire over the years. The same fire which had burnt Marc so badly.
When Luca stuck his head outside, Valentino was almost thankful to no longer face Marc’s too-honest eyes. The distrust in Marc’s voice when he questioned Luca stung, but Valentino probably deserved it. He clambered to his feet, allowing himself to be thrust into Franky’s arms whilst Luca talked to Marc in hushed tones.
(He wasn’t sure when Franky and Alex had arrived, which was baffling).
Softness engulfed him as he heard Marc laugh, delighted to see him smiling again. He wasn’t sure when he became so soppy, maybe it was over time that Marc had wormed his way into his heart, despite it all. Eventually, Franky dragged him away, much to Valentino’s disappointment. He wanted to watch Marc laugh more, to see his face almost split in half with joy. He was handed off to Luca soon after. Everything that happened afterwards was a blur; he remembered a car journey and Luca putting him to bed. After that, it was just soft sheets and dreaming of Marc's pretty smile and big hands.
*
Waking up the next morning wasn’t fun. His memory was blurry at best and completely incoherent at worst. The last thing he remembered was being rejected and rudely turned away by Dovi. He thought he remembered a rough floor beneath his knees but he also had hazy thoughts of Marc in his bed and that clearly hadn’t happened. He just hoped he hadn’t done anything too embarrassing.
He downed a glass of water in the kitchenette of his motorhome, taking some ibuprofen alongside it. He had to check that the garage was packed before he could leave. Thankfully, it was Italy, not too far from home. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses before he left and kept his head down as he walked the paddock. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked up just in time to see a familiar face shutting the door of Marc’s motorhome. Nausea rose as he recognised Dovi’s soft expression and he quickly hurried away, determined to leave this place as soon as possible.
It didn’t take too long to wrap up, but by the time he headed back to the motorhomes, he was feeling far too tired. He blamed that on what happened next. When he saw Marc, looking beautiful despite his obvious hangover, he froze. He was honest, far too honest, and he accepted the offer to go inside, which was probably his first mistake. He knew he wasn’t subtle, his eyes flicking to Marc's lips, and scouting out the motorhome interior; he just hoped Marc was too hungover to notice. Valentino wanted to kiss him. A chorus of mine, mine, mine was playing in his head like a broken record. But Marc wasn't his, he knew that.
Valentino steeled himself, he could be polite and civil. He didn’t need to let the cracks, which were steadily widening, show. He told Marc the closest variant of the truth which he could choke out and was stunned at Marc’s amused reaction. He thought he might have died, or even that he was still dreaming as Marc kissed him. He wasn’t strong enough to resist, nor was he above pleading for more once Marc stepped away. How they descended from kissing to arguing so quickly, Valentino didn’t know, but it was very on-brand for them.
Marc was furious that Vale didn’t remember, probably rightfully so. But it raised Valentino's hackles, being accused of weakness, so he fought like he always did. Sometimes Valentino felt he did not deserve love because no matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to fuck it up. Somehow, it ended with Valentino standing alone in Marc’s motorhome, with a heart more broken than before and more regrets than ever.
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scar-crossedlvrs · 21 hours ago
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A Secret Santa Gift for @vaaaaaiolet
featuring Leon S. Kennedy + christmas morning + forced proximity ( loose interpretation tbh ) + a reference to a christmas movie!
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A/N: I want to profusely apologize for how late this is! I had something else written completely and absolutely hated it, scrapped it and now we’ve got this which i’m a million times happier with. I genuinely hope you enjoy this vivi, i feel so rusty when it comes to writing so the only thing i can do is hope you enjoy! and to everyone that participated in @leonsecretsanta , y’all did some amazing work and i can’t wait to enjoy it all
includes: agent reader. disappointing circumstances. being stuck in a hotel room for the holidays
wc: 1.2k
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“Damn it.” 
Your eyes flicker to your work partner across the room just as he tosses his earpiece onto his bed in frustration. Steel blue eyes meet your confused gaze and Leon can’t do much but offer you a shrug. 
“Evac won’t be here for another twenty four hours.”
You stare, mouth falling open slightly in astonishment. “No way, It’s Christmas Eve. They can’t just leave us here.” 
It had already been a day since the two of you had completed your last mission, sharing the best hotel room that the D.S.O. was willing to shell out on the other side of the country. Hunnigan had promised that the two of you would be back in time to spend Christmas in the comfort of your own home, but now? They decided to wait until 11pm to let you know that you wouldn’t be making it home in time for the holiday at all. 
It wasn’t as if it was the first time they left the two of you stranded like this. 
“Apparently, everyone else gets the pleasure of a half day. They forgot about us.” 
You groan, falling dramatically into the plush of your own queen bed, face smushed into the low quality hotel comforter. Leon can’t do much past helplessly watching your plight in silence for a few minutes before sitting himself on the edge of your bed, a comforting hand finding a perch on your shoulder blade. 
“It could have been worse.” his words weren’t as comforting as either of you wished they could have been, but it was enough to make you right yourself into a seated position beside him. Even if it was just to shoot him an annoyed glare. 
“Easy for you to say.” you grumble. 
“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes in response, standing up with a pat to your shoulder. “Just take a shower, get some sleep. We’ll figure out what to do about this in the morning.” 
Inhaling sharply through your nose, you nod. “Yeah, you’re right. Nothing we can do about it now anyway.” 
You begrudgingly stand, sulking your way to the bathroom to wash away the disappointment and wind down for bed, and when you emerge clean and in a slightly better mood, Leon is nowhere to be found. 
Strange.
You awaken the next morning to the sound of shuffling. Eyes peel open in the soft morning light, the curtains having been drawn open in order to allow the sun to shine into the dingy hotel room, brightening it up ever so slightly. Letting out a soft groan, you let your eyes fall shut once more, remembering exactly where you are in the moment. 
“You awake?” Leon’s voice rings out. “Merry Christmas.”
You flop onto your side, prying your eyes open once more to see him seated on the edge of his bed. He hadn’t returned back to the hotel room by the time you had fallen asleep, so part of you was surprised to see him here clad in a green sweater. As you right yourself, he holds something out to you with a halfhearted smile. “Here.”
Bleary eyed, you take the red bundle and inspect it further. It doesn’t take much to identify it as another sweater, the matching pair to the one he already had on his frame. Brows furrow for a moment as your sleep ridden brain slowly begins to piece things together. 
“Just change into it and we can have some breakfast,” Leon ushers, motioning you towards the bathroom as he stands, turning his back to you rather suspiciously. 
You shrug, tossing the covers off of your body before placing your feet onto the cool, carpet covered floor. Standing, you glance towards the man once more to find him glaring at you, a finger pointing towards the bathroom in a silent command. 
“Fine, fine.” you grumble softly, shuffling your feet as you make your way into the bathroom to wash the sleep from your eyes and dress yourself in your new gifted sweater. A pretty little red cable knit number that you probably would have put back in favor of something with a little more festive flair, but it was definitely more pleasant to look at than the dull black you already had on. 
The moment you left the bathroom, you halted in surprise at the sight before you. The first thing that caught your eye was the miniature tree placed on the desk in the corner of the room. Lights twinkled around it, reflecting off the small red and green baubles that decorated the branches. Tracing the perimeter of the room, you noticed the cheap paper snowflakes plastered to the window as well as a cardboard santa propped in the opposite corner as the tree. Leon had turned on the dinky television, now playing some stop motion animated christmas film you hadn’t watched in years. You hadn’t even made it to the “breakfast” spread atop his bed by the time you could feel yourself grinning from ear to ear. 
“I take it you like it?” Leon perked up at the sight of your smile, unable to hide the one that was growing on his own lips. “I know it’s no Kevin Mcallister at the Plaza Hotel, but I figured it was better than nothing.” 
You nod, turning to meet him with bright eyes. Without warning, you throw your arms around him, catching him by surprise. It takes a moment, but his own arms fold around you. You squeeze him tightly in your arms before taking a step back, face warm in embarrassment at the sudden physical contact shared between the two of you. He doesn’t seem to mind it however, instead leading you to the impressive selection for your holiday breakfast ( what appeared to be a variety of snacks emptied from the local gas station’s shelves ).
“How’d you manage this?” you question, taking a moment to sift through the pre-packaged pastries and snack sized bags of chips.
“Well, you seemed to be really disappointed about this situation so I thought I’d do something to make it better.” he started, propping himself on the edge of his bed. 
“Not why, how?” you snort softly, nudging him with your hand before sitting down beside him, packaged cookie in hand. 
“Oh, well after you went to shower I got the idea for all this. Spent half the night hunting for somewhere that was even open. Thank god for gas station convenience stores.”
You can’t help but laugh. “You got everything from a gas station? Even the tree?” 
Leon nods, reaching behind him to pluck out a bag of chips for his own meal. “Remind me we need to take that back before we get picked up. They made me pay an arm and a leg for it and still want it back.”
You nod, silently taking in the hotel room around you that suddenly seemed to be much less miserable than it had been last night before turning your gaze back to him. “I don’t have anything for you.”
He shrugs, “I don’t need anything, just knowing you’re not miserable is enough.” 
You smile softly once more, attention turning to the colorful characters on screen. Taking a bite of your cookie, your head falls to his shoulder. 
“Thanks.”
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sansundertale14x1 · 10 months ago
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Waiting for Gaz to come home
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Civilian!Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
CW: descriptions of anxiety and death, no actual death. Anxiety attack, and then comfort, Gender Neutral reader, no pronouns used but 'you', using the name 'Kyle' instead of 'Gaz' due to being a civilian. Proshippers DNI
Word count: 1013
Author's note: Heyy :) I don't post my fanfiction here very often, and this is my first work featuring Gaz, so keep that in mind while reading. I hope you like it! @chamomiletealeaf especially, thank you!!
It's late at night and you find yourself melting into the couch. It's a chore to keep your eyes open, trying to focus on whatever slop you put on the television just to pass the time. Your efforts are for a purpose, however. Your current roommate is Kyle Garrick (He mentioned the nickname 'Gaz', but you have no idea where that came from and what it should mean, anyway?)
He's currently on military duty, completing missions beside a task force '141'. It sounds quite dangerous to you, but Kyle always comes home in one piece. (Broken limbs aside)
You've never really had any concerns for Kyle coming home. He's assured you a million times before even exiting the doorway.
"It's alright, sweetheart. I know not to do anythin' stupid, I'll be home in a week."
The farewell is always sealed with a kiss.
Kyle was always sweet like that. He's able to stay calm and steady all the damn time...God, you wish you were like that.
Though you're halfway asleep, you can't help but be overcome with anxiety. He'd never come home this late before. He usually came home around 9-11pm...he's very consistent in that way.
However, your late-night binge-watching seems to be turning into an early-morning binge session. You wipe your glossed-over eyes, not wanting to believe what the clock is telling you.
"1:15am."
You read that aloud to yourself, voice groggy from the lack of usage. The alarm sirens in your head begin to go off. Maybe...he wasn't okay and the authorities just haven't shown up yet.
You tolerate these thoughts for a while. Staring up at the ceiling, you barely notice the wet tears crawling down your cheeks as you start to plan. It's seriously morbid of you to start planning the funeral of a man you didn't even know if he was dead or not, But you couldn't help it. Having control over something is a comfort...even if you are completely alone.
The mix of anxiety and tiredness is nearly lethal to all forms of sense in your head. You'd spiral down a myriad of deadly thoughts. Your heart races...while also feeling as if it's stopped beating completely. It's impossible to control your thoughts at the moment...
Even if Kyle is alive, You doubt that he'd want to stick around and live with your poor, weak self. He's strong...and deserves someone that's the same way.
You stir aimlessly on the couch, thoughts still out of control. You're too distracted by the overwhelming mental noise to hear the click of the front door.
Kyle's heavy footsteps still don't break through your crowded thoughts, even as he removes his coat and begins to peer around their home. It hits him with a feeling of calmness...but also confusion as he notices your tired, shaking form.
He'd undo his shoelaces and gently place his shoes near yours in the mudroom. He then begins to approach the living room, keeping his eyes steady on your sleeping form (or...at least he thinks you're sleeping...).
Kyle smiled widely, finding it extremely adorable that you put in the effort to wait for him to come home, even if it did make you exhausted. He then starts to slowly descend onto the couch, trying not to make a noise. Yet, with the smallest creak of the couch cushion, you were alert once again.
You immediately shot up from your laying position, head turning to see who could've possibly disturbed your thoughts.
"Woah, Woah...at ease"
He softly chuckled. When you hear his voice...you let out the biggest sigh of relief that you have in a long time.
"You scared me half to death, babe..."
You groggily speak as you reach out to touch Kyle's arm..as if confirming that your boyfriend is actually there, lying with you. A soft smile spreads across his face as he notices your action, so, he takes your smaller body into his arms and pulls you closer, so your head is pressed into his chest.
"I'm here...for real. Just some fight delay is all"
You feel fully calm now...Just more assurance that Kyle is okay...and you're in his arms, taking in his scent no matter how...musky it happens to be. However...the tiredness hits you like a bus now that you're actually comfortable, and you begin to pass out in your boyfriend's arms. As your vision becomes limited, you can feel your body being lifted off the surface of the couch.
Kyle's footsteps are all you hear as he carries you to your shared bedroom. A warm feeling fills your body as you notice the change in feeling, and you immediately notice that you've entered the bedroom. Kyle is very gentle as he places you down on the memory foam mattress.
He then steps away, headed down the hallway, presumably to turn off the lights and such in the living room. You let out a whine, begging him to come back. Now that you know he's home, you can't let go.
"shh, calm down...I'm almost done."
He assured. Though sometimes you annoyed the shit out of him, he did choose you this way, so it's sort of his fault.
When Kyle returned to the bedroom, that view of your tired body was making it worth all the moments of pain and time that he spent apart from you.
He tries his hardest to shut the door gently, as he kneels down to press his lips to your forehead. Then, he stands up and joins you on the bed. His weight dents the mattress, causing you to collide with his body the moment he lays down. He lets out a low giggle:
"Oh, you're the cutest thing...though, the next time I come home late, please for your sake, go to bed."
However, his words fall upon deaf ears as you've already nuzzled into his body and fallen asleep.
"...I love you."
Those three words were the last he spoke, before pulling you closer and slowly closing his eyes.
~~~~~
and that's it! Thank you so much for reading my work, this took me a VERY long time compared to my other writing (oddly, lol) This was completely drafted on paper before I revised it here! (my hand hurts ;-;) A great thank you to @chamomiletealeaf yet again for the character analysis of Gaz that helped me write this. They're a wonderful writer and I recommend going to read some of their stuff. <3
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