#It's only the second game where you can be a girl from the beginning though

[itsnesss]

Hey! Can I make a fluffy request for Lee Myung-Gi in ‘Mingle’, where the reader is his lover and main priority, so he always has her hand in his and she’s with him in every group. And when the number is three, Myung-Gi sees two girls, missing one, and he pushes the reader with them, so she is safe while he looks for two more people to mingle with?? Thank you!!🫶

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | lee myung-gi (player 333) × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, game survival context, angst, anxiety

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The rotating platform beneath your feet turns slowly. The stage lights flicker as the sound of the carousel mixes with the echoes of nervous players. The chaos is palpable, but amid it all, you feel a relative calm. The reason: Myung-gi. His hand, firm and warm in yours, gives you a sense of security that you can't find anywhere else in this infernal game.

The speakers emit a shrill sound, followed by the cold, mechanical voice that fills the air announcing the number of people. "6"

Immediately, the players scatter. The pressure starts to build, and you can feel the air growing denser, charged with tension. Groups begin to form rapidly as the doors that await light up with the number six.

"Let's go" Myung-gi says, his voice low but firm. By his side, you move quickly, scanning your surroundings for other players who might complete the necessary group.

Minutes continue to tick by, and the number of people around you starts to dwindle. People continue bumping into each other, desperately searching for companions to complete their groups. Nerves begin to rise, and fear starts to take over. But Myung-gi, as always, is there. He doesn't let go of you, he doesn't leave you. And that gives you the strength to keep going.

The door is getting closer, but the crowd doesn't seem to calm. You see a group of three forming near you, but it’s not enough.

"Over there!" Myung-gi exclaims, pointing to a group that is forming quickly. "Hurry up."

Both of you run towards the group, you join them, and finally, just as there’s barely any time left, the group of six is complete. You feel a deep sense of relief.

Inside the room, you turn to look at Myung-gi, and you can see the same expression of relief on his face. He pulls you closer, hugging you quickly to make sure you're still by his side.

"We made it..." you murmur, your heart still pounding.

After the group is finished and the shots stop, the doors open, and you step out. The carousel begins to spin again, and the voice from the speakers sounds once more. "2"

Relieved to have a partner, the pressure on you eases just a little, only a little since you need to enter a door before it fills. You make it. You imitate the same pattern of waiting for the doors to open, stepping out, and positioning yourselves on the platform.

"3". 3 people.

Time begins to count. You feel the pressure rise, but you don’t let go of Myung-gi’s hand. No matter what happens, no matter the number, you know that as long as you're with him, there’s nothing to worry about.

"Let's go, quickly." His voice is firm, but his expression shows the worry that, though he tries to hide it, he can’t conceal. Both of you look around, quickly searching for the other players who might complete the group of three.

Chaos erupts around you. People start running in all directions, urgently searching for a group that fits the announced number. Myung-gi keeps you by his side, his grip on your hand never loosening, and your steps follow his with precision. You know you can’t fall behind, you can’t lose sight of him. Fear grips you for a second, but Myung-gi gives you the strength you need to keep going.

"Just a little more. Let's go." He whispers, and although you're terrified, that simple phrase gives you the strength to keep going.

Suddenly, someone yells from a side: a group of two people is urgently looking for someone to complete their number. Myung-gi stops abruptly and looks at you, his face full of determination. He knows what this means.

"Go with them." He tells you firmly, pointing to the two girls who are almost about to enter the door. The anxiety in their eyes is obvious. "Don’t worry about me, everything will be fine. If you don’t go with them, they’ll eliminate both of us."

Your breath quickens, and panic fills you. You can’t leave him, you can’t leave him behind. You feel your heart race. The seconds keep ticking, and Myung-gi gently pushes you towards the two girls, who look at you expectantly.

"No!" you shout, terrified. "I don’t want to go without you. I can't."

Time is running out. The doors begin to close. The pressure rises, and Myung-gi, without looking back, gently pushes you toward the girls.

"Please. Do it for us." His voice cracks slightly. "I don’t want to lose you, but if you don’t, we’ll both die."

You can’t answer. You can’t do anything but look into his eyes, those eyes that have shown you so much security, that protection you've always felt when you're near him. But now it's different. He pushes you inside and closes the door with a speed that surprises you.

You feel as if a part of you is being ripped away by doing so. The door closes quickly behind you, and the sound of the carousel is all you can hear. A lump forms in your throat, and for a moment, everything goes dark around you.

You join the girls, but your mind is completely distracted. Thoughts of him torment you. In that moment, time seems to stretch. The fear of losing him consumes you, and no matter how hard you try to calm down, the anxiety doesn’t leave.

But finally, time runs out. Silence fills the arena for a second, eternal. The doors open with a dull sound. It’s the moment you dreaded, but also the moment you waited for.

You step out, your heart still racing. Your eyes search for Myung-gi, desperate. And there he is. You see him, standing in front of you, as if nothing had happened. In his eyes, there’s relief, there’s love, but above all, there’s a strength you’ve never seen before. He looks at you, and in that instant, the world stops.

You throw yourself at him without thinking, running into his arms. He receives you with open arms, and for a moment, everything else disappears. The fear, the anguish, the doubts, all dissolve when you feel his warmth, when you feel that he’s still there, alive, with you.

"I found you." you whisper, relief in your voice is palpable, and tears begin to fall without you being able to stop them.

"I’ll never let you go again. I promise." he says, hugging you so tightly it almost takes your breath away.

You can’t believe you survived, that both of you made it through this infernal game, but you feel more alive than ever.

The world could fall apart, but as long as you’re together, nothing matters. He’s your priority, and you’re his. And that’s all you need to know.

Then, without thinking, you kiss him. A kiss that’s a promise, a pact that nothing will separate you. The chaos continues, the lights flicker, and the game goes on, but in that moment, the only game that matters is the one you play together, one where you always choose each other, always protect each other.

"I love you." you whisper between kisses.

"I know." he responds with a smile, his eyes shining with the same intensity as the first day you met.

[jo-speaks]

Happy birthday!! Can I request 🎂 (keep reading, don't let me distract you) With quinn of course

warnings: smut below the cut!! mdni! oral sex (fem! receiving), yeah that's pretty much it

celly masterlist

You were lying on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, nose-deep into a book Quinn had recommended to you a few days ago. You had gotten sleepy while watching the game, so you decided maybe a book would keep you awake. You were right. The plot was growing intensely in a way that made it impossible for you to stop your eyes from shifting left to right, processing every word and picturing everything vividly in your mind.

You were so focused on the story that you hadn’t noticed Quinn walk into the apartment. Not even the thud of his bag hitting the floor was enough to snap you out of your trance.

Quinn noticed your state of being when he entered the apartment. You had the blinds closed even though you had the perfect view of the skyline from the windows. The only light in the room came from the TV where you had some background music playing. He smiled when he noticed what you were reading, a sense of pride flooding his body as he recognized the familiar title.

He didn’t want to interrupt you, but he wanted to be close to you. He kicked off his shoes and stripped himself of his game-day suit, leaving him in nothing but his underwear before he made his way over to you.

No words were exchanged as he pushed your knees apart, finding a home in between your legs with his head on your stomach. You removed one hand from the book, moving it to mess with his hair. Smiling at the feeling, Quinn placed a kiss on your bare midriff, earning a giggle from you. 

“That tickles.” You mumbled, returning back to the sentence you had left off on.

Quinn smiled, “Go back to your book, baby. It’s a good read.”

He realized you already had when he was met with silence. His lips met your stomach again. And again.

It hadn’t been his intention to pull your attention away from the book. It genuinely was a good story, but he couldn’t help but trail his kisses from your navel to just mere inches from your core. Before he even knew what was happening, he was sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them find a new home on the floor.

“Quinn?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you lowered your book to see what he was doing.

He peered up at you, offering you a sweet smile, “Keep reading. Don’t let me distract you.”

You obeyed, trying to control your breathing and bring your focus back to the pages once again as he placed a soft kiss on your clit. 

His tongue lapped against your core in a tamed manner until a switch seemed to flip in his brain.  His once previously soft actions turned messy in a matter of seconds, beginning to eat you out like you were his last meal.

Whimpers turned into moans as you tugged on his hair, earning a groan from him, the vibrations translating perfectly from his throat to your throbbing clit. You couldn’t fathom the thought of picking the book up again, too distracted by his mouth to even remember anything you had read in the past hour.

“Fuck, Quinn. Don’t stop. Please.” You babbled, brain turning to mush as he shifted his tongue from lapping at your clit to prodding at your entrance. His nose replaced that sensation, the tip of it rubbing up perfectly against you, causing you to grind your hips against his face.

Quinn pulled away slightly to speak, “Cum for me, sweet girl. Let me get you there.” Once he got his words out, he dove right back into you as if you were his only source of oxygen.

It didn’t take long before you were crying out, the forgotten book sliding off your chest and onto the ground, as you arched your back, a wave of euphoria hitting you hard.

He didn’t stop his actions, helping you ride out your orgasm whilst sucking in every last drop of it. He wouldn’t have stopped had it not been for the palm of your hand pushing his head away from you. 

Quinn trailed kisses up your body, worshiping you silently before he reached your face, placing a loving kiss on your lips, the taste of you lingering against your tongue. 

“So much for not distracting me. I was getting to the climax.” You jokingly complained.

Your boyfriend snorted as he made himself comfortable on top of you, “And I helped you get there.”

[sweetbans29]

Back to You (2) - CC Series

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Who knew Indianapolis would feel so small...

Warnings: little pains

Word Count: 2.1k

Previous - Next

Back to You Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

2.5 YEARS LATER

Moving to Indiana was not your first choice. It also wasn't your second or third for that matter but here you are.

You stand in your new apartment, looking around at all the empty space you are going to have to fill. You hate filling space.

"Yo, where are you going to want this?" Kate comes walking in holding a lamp.

"Well considering there is no furniture here yet, I'd say the middle of the living room floor should do," you say sarcastically.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," she says as she places it on the kitchen counter. Claire comes through the door with a small box and places it next to the lamp.

"Okay, once the movers get here with the hauler I will have them working from the bedroom out. We will need to go to Target and a few other stores to get all the smaller stuff," Claire says. You are beyond glad that she is here to help, also that she has an eye for filling space.

"I think that is my queue to go grab food," Kate says as she picks up her keys and shuffles her way to the door.

You shoot Kate a glare but know that you can't go without food for much longer.

Over the next few hours your apartment slowly starts to look inhabitable. The following few hours are spent shopping for things that you know are just going to collect dust but don't say a word about because Claire seems to be really enjoying herself.

After you drove away from Caitlin, you did everything you could to make it seem like nothing had changed. To everyone around you, nothing had changed - they had no idea your world had just been torn apart and run over. The only thing that has changed is you stopped going to basketball games. You came up with every excuse in the books to get yourself out of sitting in a stadium where everyone was cheering on your girl - who used to be your girl.

It took Kate halfway through the season to figure out what had happened and when she did - she ran straight to you. It all started to make sense in her mind, why you weren't at games and never really around anymore. She never suspected anything because Caitlin seemed so normal.

When Kate confronted you about Caitlin - you broke down in front of someone for the first time over the girl you loved. She sat there and listened to every word you said and she was infuriated but she never left your side. She had every intention of confronting Caitlin but you begged her not to. It was already hard enough to pretend like you haven't been struggling to survive.

Ever since then, you made Kate swear that she wouldn't let what Caitlin did to you get in the way of her relationship with her teammate. And Kate kept her promise - even if it took her a while to look at Caitlin the same again. Kate did an above and beyond job at maintaining both of your friendships and it is because of that ability that you consider her your only real friend.

After getting back from all the shopping and taking orders from Claire on where to put everything you got all around your apartment, the three of you collapsed on your couch.

"I don't know how I could ever thank you both for helping me with all of this," you say.

"It was my genuine pleasure," Claire says with the biggest smile. You smile back and hear Kate groan.

"I am never doing that again," Kate says, causing Claire to hit her shoulder.

The three of you laugh all sharing in the fact that Kate did the least amount of work. You all fall into a comfortable silence and it begins to hit you. You are now living in the Caitlin Clark center of the world.

Over the next few weeks you settle into the new city, doing everything you can to avoid Gainbridge Fieldhouse even though you know you will be there sooner or later considering that is now your new place of work. If you had a choice, you would be working for any other WNBA team building out there - hell, you even looked into every NBA building option. But you didn't have much say when your executive director said they wanted you in Indiana, that is where you were forced to go.

Aside from it being home to the one person you try your best to avoid, the job you are stepping into is one of your dreams. You worked day and night to get to where you are and you are super proud of how far you have come in the short time after college. Becoming the Director of Player Relations for Gainbridge Fieldhouse, you knew you would only be able to dodge Clark for so long.

You have settled into your office and have made your rounds to introduce yourself to your new team. You have even started connecting with the Fever players which has been quite eventful. You first met Aliyah Boston and connected immediately. You tried not too but ended up fan-girling over her TikTok's. She tried to get you to join one but you refused, not wanting to be the cause of her losing followers due to your horrible dancing.

You then got some time with Natasha Howard and Kelsey Mitchell. Both of whom loved your intentionality and vision for how management can support the players.

You have met the rest of the team, minus a certain someone, in passing making sure to figure out a time to connect. At this point, you assumed that Caitlin knew you were in the building but haven't seen her yet to confirm.

Today's the day that all changes. At least that is what you are telling yourself since it is the first game of the season.

After getting to Gainbridge, you planned to take some time in your office before heading down to the floor but the second you walk in the door you are swept to do 20 different things. Before you know it, you are on the floor as the team runs out for final warm-ups.

Walkie in hand, you do everything in your power to stay busy the second you have a moment to breathe. As much as you want to breathe, you don't want to see that girl plastered all over this arena. You keep your head down and find your shoes uncharacteristically interesting.

A hand graces your shoulder and you peek up to see your assistant looking at you with soft eyes and in that moment you feel like you are back in college - broken and hiding.

"Hey Ben, what's up?" You ask, trying to shake the pit in your stomach.

"One would think after a few seasons this would feel normal," Ben says as he looks around at the crowds.

"This will never be normal, it will always be special. Trust me," you say. It comes out just above a whisper. Ben smiles at you and you smile back, shifting your eyes from Ben to the court for the first time. With the amount of people in this place you are certain you will blend into the background.

Big mistake.

As your eyes hit the court, they are met with all too familiar brown ones. Your smile fades as your eyes lock on hers. Both of you froze in time. It feels like your eyes are locked for hours but in the 5 seconds of gripping despair your breath is taken from you and you feel the air sucked from your lungs. You turn away and take a hold of Ben's arm.

"I left something in my office, I have to grab it" you say as you begin to walk towards the back.

"I can go get it, you should be here when they announce the players - it's thrilling," Ben says with a smile.

"No, no, I got it," you insist and continue walking. You feel like you are suffocating.

When you get to your office you close the door and turn the lights off. Back against the door, you sink to the floor and bring your head to your knees.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You sit there for who knows how long. When you feel your heart calm and your breath steady - you stand. Even after 2+ years of not seeing her, she still controls your heart. You grab your walkie and head back out.

You have no idea how much of the game has passed. As you are walking back out the tunnel an arm grabs you and pulls you into a small room.

"What the-", you begin but shut up immediately when you are met face to face with Caitlin.

She is looking down at you, hand still on your arm. Her fingertips brush the exposed skin on your forearm - a gesture you both were all too familiar with.

Neither of you say anything, not knowing what to say. You have imagined this moment every day since getting to Indy and now that you are here and alone for that matter, nothing comes out.

Caitlin hesitates but unlike your last meeting she brings her free hand up to brush her fingers against your cheek and her thumb against your bottom lip. You want to pull away but you lean in ever so slightly - she is too familiar.

Your eyes close as you feel your heart break all over again.

Caitlin can't take her eyes off of you. This feels like a dream, she has thought time and time again of how different things would have been if she cared more about you and less about the world. Cait continues to rub her thumb against your bottom lip until she feels a wet sensation meet her fingers. Her eyebrows furrow then ease when she realizes it's a tear.

She opens her mouth to say something, not that you had any reason to listen but she had to try. Before she can, the door opens and Steve pokes his head in.

"The second half is starting," Steve says and leaves right after.

Before Caitlin can do anymore damage, you step away from her. You don't look her in the eye - you can't. You see Caitlins hands grip the bottom of her jersey, just like they did the last time the two of you talked.

The last thing that Caitlin wants to do is walk away from you right now but she knows she doesn't have a choice. You watch as she makes her way to the door, stopping right before it and leaning her head against it.

You don't know why but before you stop yourself you find yourself reaching out and brushing one of her fly away hairs. It is now her turn to close her eyes. You pull her headband down and smooth some of her fly aways back before sliding it back onto her head. You bring your hands to her shoulders, giving them two squeezes like you would before every game to regulate her thoughts.

There is a soft knock at the door and you know Caitlin really needs to go but she doesn't move. She finally opens her eyes and you know she is doing everything she can to keep herself together.

She doesn't deserve your comfort. Both of you know it.

"Go," you say. It comes out softer than you intend - not that it was intended to be harsh.

She nods and reaches to open the door. Before letting herself out, she speaks.

"I would do anything to go back to that night," she says.

"Cait stop," you say, not wanting to do this right now. Not when she has to go out and finish a game.

"No," she says and turns to face you again. "That was the biggest mistake of my life and things are different now-"

The door opens and Caitlin is cut off.

"Clark, get your ass back out on that floor," one of the coaches comes in, grabbing her and dragging her out. You go unnoticed as you watch Caitlin be pulled out mid conversation.

Different? What could possibly be different now?

You have blocked her out of your life so much that you have no idea what is going on in hers. You shake your head - nothing has changed. This moment changed nothing. She is still the Caitlin that blindsided you and you did not spend the last two and a half years rebuilding your life to be broken again.

You grab your walkie and head back out, lighter than you have felt in a while.

The Fever lost that night and you can only hope that you had nothing to do with it.

AN: Part 2 in the books. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Next

[daylighted]

baby!reader working a case???

ok let me lock in bc i don't think i can logically headcanon this and we all deserve to see it come to fruition.

it was a very special day for you. new car, new clothes (really, a mix of dean and sam's handmedowns from the depths of their packed bags, but they were new to you which made them special), and a new identity.

they were acting as fbi for this case, something ghostly and ghoul-like and a bridge that seemed to be the centric point of it. they had badges and everything, dean even let you play with his before he got (rightfully) anxious you'd manage to lose it and took it back.

you'd seen them in action before, but it was so much less involved than this. you'd be where the new car was; parked at the beginning of the bridge, doing absolutely nothing at all, staring at the police cars that got to see more action than you did.

not today, though! you were walking right up to the scene, past the stupid police cars and the men themselves in their cute little uniforms, looking all serious and grimace-y.

it was going swell, too, until you'd accidentally made eye contact with the most grimace-y one, and he seemed to think that the fact that you were grinning at a murder scene was a little off, because he holds out his arm to stop the three of you from approaching.

"hey, what the hell is this?" he asks, glancing firstly between the two men and then to you.

that didn't ever really bode well, when people treated you as an afterthought. dean opens his mouth, sam's already fishing for the lanyard beneath his shirt, but you speak instead. "we are investigating."

the man's lips purse in amusement. like you were joking, or amusing. there was nothing funny about this. this was your very first mission with the winchester gang; it was so incredibly important to you.

"we are investigating," the policeman says, straightening his spine as he does, like he feels the need to emphasize his status and talk down to a girl. "you guys are going to get behind the yellow tape." again, it doesn't bode well, but it was dean's turn to interrupt you.

dean holds his fbi badge out. today he was dean williams. could you read? no. but he'd schooled you on what role you were and what his said so you didn't accidentally do something stupid, like this, and throw their whole game out the window before it'd even started. "the higher-ups called us in."

sam holds his up, too, and now you feel a little left out, but this was a part of the game.

the policeman nods to you, his face still impassive and, in a way, amused. "who's this, then?"

dean and sam look at each other, and then back at the man. you are still smiling like this is the best day of your life. it actually was, too. you didn't have many sentient days to use as reference.

"intern."

he watches you for a long while, like he knows that you're seconds from cracking, and just when you're about to tell him about how fun and exciting this is, he shakes his head. "nuh uh. this isn't happening. we've got it handled, thanks."

dean's lips flatten, and sam's already stepping forward to have a personal one-on-one with the cop, like he alone could change his mind, but your eyes go to the left. the edge of the bridge, where police officers are gathered around, assumedly, where something happened.

"...don't know where their daughter is," one says, low enough that you could only hear because you were attached to dean's arm, and he was drifting in that direction for the very reason of overhearing, "hasn't answered a call or text, but phone pinged here a few hours ago."

the bridge was long, and distant from any sign of civilization. your head tilts to the side. dean complained when he had to walk for long periods of time, sam was decently tall so it didn't take him as much time, but he didn't seem to like it much, either. neither of them would have walked the length of this bridge to somehow vanish, no matter if they were chasing something.

and daughter. assumedly younger, if her parents realized so quickly that she'd not come home the night before. girls could be tall, young girls could be tall, but even then, it would not make sense for a girl at least somewhat young to walk the length of this bridge on her own, especially in the middle of the night, from however far the family lived.

your head raises in an epiphany. you don't know social cues. don't know how to tell when a conversation is private, and when it's open for comment, so you blurt out the words in your head. "she was driving."

dean's head snaps toward you, and the police officers all tense, including the one that sam had been sweet talking.

"what?" dean asks you, even as the officers start to walk toward you with blatant intent.

how were you supposed to know that presenting a theory as a complete and total stranger bystander would lead to suspicion? that's not something taught in two hour long drives by the winchester boys.

you shove past all of them, going to lean over the edge of the bridge. the river below was deep and winding, its depths emphasized in the darkness of the water, even from this height. impossible to see the car that you knew was down there.

"she was driving," you repeat, your hands running along the railing, feeling for grooves or cracks you knew had to be there. sure enough, there's a huge crack a couple of feet from you, one that isn't paralleled on the other side of the bridge. "very fast. it's a straight road and bridge, so maybe she felt safer to speed. or maybe she was scared, and something was chasing her, which could be why she went to the left and..."

you nod toward the river below again, past the cracked edge. "went over the edge."

the entire bridge is silent. even the birds have stopped cawing. finally, the police officer who'd looked at you like you were nothing but a little girl trespassing presses the comm on his chest, holding it to his mouth. "get a search and rescue on the ground."

dean huffs out a laugh, not in the same way that the officers had poked and prodded at you. you knew dean very well, and knew his tells more than you knew general ones. he was impressed.

"what's your name?" the first officer asks as the others begin to load up into the useless, idle cars, heading off of the bridge toward the murky riverbank.

you straighten this time, as tall as you can be, and as proud as you could, in worn and faded and too-big clothes. "baby."

a huff of amusement, more similar to dean's than the officer's rude teasing before. he pats sam's back, offer's dean a gruff nod, and then turns back toward you. "you boys are dismissed. you can stay."

[charrfie]

I recently had a clinical trial related dream and wanted to draw some moments from it. Below the read more I've included my dream journal entry of it and another bonus sketch!

The dream takes place after the events of the game itself, where angel and lee had been living together for roughly a year now. They settled into a schedule and were well accustomed to their daily rhythms. Angel, however, had used this time to start considering what they wanted to do with their life. Now that they weren't reliant on a paycheck to paycheck life, they could consider options and career paths that actually brought them joy, weren't detrimental to their health, and weren't too demanding of them. And so, for the first time in a long while, angel considered going back to college. Lee was quick to encourage them! They didn't know what they wanted to do quite yet aside from being in a creative field, so they planned to go in for general courses and eventually settle into a certain path. Unfortunately for lee, the college they would get into was states away (a couple days drive), and so he missed them terribly but still cheered them on in following their passions.

At first, they had some difficulty making friends. They weren't eager to open up and were afraid that if they did make friends there, they would eventually get burnt out from school a second time and leave them behind. Their favorite class in the first weeks turned out to be a film class! Their roommate also ended up in this same class, and so as luck would have it, they became fast friends despite angel's worries. She was a very adri-equivalent character.... though she WAS someone else in this dream. Unfortunately though, angel would also go on to make enemies with a girl in the same class that was incredibly rude to them for no reason, sabotaging them throughout the semester, tripping them, talking smack about them in front of their face, etc. Even going so far as to spread rumors about angel that almost got angel suspended from the school. It was probably transphobia or something idk; there's no other discernable reason for the random hatred campaign she was running. Thankfully, angel was still well-liked by their classmates and teachers. But it did wear on them.

Lee calls to check up on them often, always offering to make the drive up there in case angel needs anything, though angel is quick to assure him things are working out. They do confide in him about their bully, which he can tell is bothering them, even if they brush it off. He's worried sick about them being so far from home and having to deal with that.

As the semester nears it's end, and angel is getting ready to go back home in a couple weeks for break, they begin making a breakthrough with their bully. Again, for no discernable reason! All of a sudden she's nicer to them, even if there's traces of malice in their interactions with one another. Maybe school WILL be alright, they think. If this works out. If it's all settled. Maybe she's starting to see me as a person instead of a freak to harass.

With the closing of the semester comes two things: one, finals are due. In angel's film class, they're meant to bring in a final film they've shot to present to the class. As these presentations are happening, they're set to have a party in class, with everyone bringing different foods to eat while the watchparty happens! Two, after finals are completed, the last two weeks of the semester will be spent on a field trip where everyone will stay at a fancy hotel and get to go on museum trips to learn about art/film. So of course, angel excitedly speeds to class the morning of the watchparty, only to stop in their tracks when they see a very suspicious looking lee that is painfully aware he is not doing a very good job of hiding. As angel walks up to him, he visibly deflates, trying to excuse it with "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I was worried." Angel gives him a hard time about it, saying "you couldn't have waited two more weeks?" Despite their teasing though, they feel bashful about the fact that he drove all that way with the intention of just checking on them in secret and driving back home immediately after. So they tell him that they have to go to class, but once they're done then they can let him stay in their dorm room, he only needs to busy himself in the meantime.

They make it to class at the last minute, film hard drive and brownies in hand. Considering that they've been talking about lee all semester with their classmates, they're eager to mention that he's visiting the campus today, so everyone's free to meet him if they want. They do note, however, that their bully isn't in class today, and they're admittedly a bit relieved because- even if they've been making progress with her- they still would rather not send out an open invitation for her to hang out after class. As they settle down and the first films are being pulled up by the teacher on the projector, somehow (AND DON'T ASK ME HOW, ITS JUST DREAM LOGIC) the projector screen at the front of the room suddenly lights up with security camera footage of a random hallway at the school (WHY DID THE TEACHER HAVE ACCESS TO THIS AND WHY WAS IT THE COMPUTER DEFAULT????), and on it is lee chasing down angel's bully into a stairwell. The teacher does not make note of this because she's having too much difficulty figuring out technical problems with plugging in the students' hard drives, so angel darts out of the classroom unnoticed, along with other class friends that follow them.

While I don't remember the exact details of the conversation that followed, angel explained to everyone that they needed to find those two before anything bad happened, and the group split up. Cue running around the school montage! Angel kept trying to call lee in hopes that they could distract him and find out where he was, to no avail.

Out of breath and awfully dizzy after 15 minutes of sprinting around the campus, angel shakily walked out onto a random balcony to get some fresh air and sit down, only to find lee sitting out there already. A lee with........ blood on him, they found. It wasn't a lot, just enough to notice it on his face and a few drops on his shirt. But it was enough to get angel mad enough that they forgot about their dizziness. As soon as lee noticed them, he looked at them silently like a sad, wet puppy who knows he's about to get in trouble. And he was. Bc angel was fucking pissed, not frozen and terrified like the last time they found brandon's body. Not only were they furious over the fact that the day they had been so looking forward to got interrupted by this, not only were they furious that lee had done this AGAIN after promising he wouldn't ever, but the fact that they had been making actual PROGRESS in the relationship they had with this girl and had other ways of addressing it was really the cherry on top. So they fully let into him for it, getting angry enough that they were brought to tears.

Again, the details of the conversation are fuzzy, but I do remember at one point lee said "the people that have passed me on this balcony keep asking ME if I'm alright because they think I've just had a nose bleed," kind of cluing angel in on the fact that he very intentionally didn't clean himself up because he knew he wasn't supposed to do this again and wanted to self sabotage by getting caught before angel could see him. Angel doesn't know what to say or how to handle the situation at all, so they tell lee to just go back to their room, exasperated, and they'll figure out what to do about this later.

There's a bit of a time skip after this point. I know angel returned to their room at some point, only going back to class to tell their teacher that they weren't feeling well and needed to leave early. I can't recall what happened to any evidence of the murder, but it was never an issue. And for the next few days angel makes lee follow them around EVERYWHERE, even on their field trip, bc they don't trust him not to go off and do something stupid (either to someone else to himself). They even make arrangements for him to come on the field trip with them because they don't want to let him out of their sight.

The rest of the dream is the fuzziest (and also I'm tired of writing), but it revolved around the two slowly trying to repair their relationship. Even after the field trip was over and break had started, angel said that they didn't want to go back home and wanted to spend more time away from the house, thinking that maybe their distance from lee at college had perhaps allowed him to spiral into his unhealthy thought patterns again, which he never mentioned over the phone since he wanted to make room for angel's grievances, considering how much they are dealing with. Maybe being on vacation might help. And despite how heavy everything in the dream was prior to this, it eventually lead to some especially cute moments between the pair. Also I remember tammy from anthology of the killer being there at one point for some reason. The end that's all I'm writing. Thank you.

[pochaccoups]

cw — minors dni, gamer!wonwoo, fingering

wonu <3: Hi love

wonu <3: I’m gonna stream in a bit

you: does that mean u need me? :3

wonu <3: Yes please :)

Within seconds, the soft patter of your boyfriend’s footsteps down the hall comes to a stop outside your bedroom door. He opens it slowly with a soft smile on his face, slinking over to your shared bed where you lounge with an anime playing on your laptop.

A shiver of thrill runs down your back as the gleam in his dark eyes drinks you in, his pearly teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

While this pre-stream ‘ritual’ of his is technically for his own benefit that is him warming up his fingers to game, you also get an orgasm, sometimes two, out of it, so it’s a win-win for both of you. He’s conditioned you to look forward to stream days, though that’s not to say he doesn’t touch you—he does, as soon as you bat your lashes and ask him so sweetly. Still, he insists that it’s a way of getting you “involved in his career” or whatever. (He’s just trying to be a good, inclusive boyfriend. You can’t complain.)

A giggle comes bubbling out of you as he kneels on the edge of the bed and pulls you into him, holds you gently by the back of your head so he can guide your lips to his and kiss you sweetly, yet with enough fervour for a dull heat to begin pulsing between your legs.

When his tongue finds its way into your mouth, your brain switches off in an instant, your mind attuned to nothing but the way Wonwoo’s hands are so warm on your waist and how your mouth melts into his like you were put on this earth to kiss him.

With you putty in his hands after just a few seconds, he lowers you to the mattress once more. Your legs part instinctively so that he can slot himself in between them and teasingly press one of his thighs up against your clothed cunt.

You mewl when, along with his thigh, Wonwoo brings a hand between your legs and strokes you through your shorts. His touch is soft in a way that’s teasing, in a way that makes you buck your hips and ask for more when he hasn’t even gotten you naked yet.

“Needy girl,” he coos against your lips, pulling away to mouth at your neck whilst his fingers tease at your centre.

“You love it,” you say.

He chuckles, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your smugness. Truth be told, your neediness does in fact fulfil something deep within Wonwoo. Your begging strokes his ego just right, and the sounds you make when he gives into your pleas heal his soul.

“Want me to touch you?” he asks, toying with the band of your shorts as he settles into the spot next to you because he knows you like to curl into his embrace. His question is not just to hear you whine, it’s a reminder that this being a ritual doesn’t mean a thing if you don’t want him right now.

You, however, are greedy, and your boyfriend is hot.

“Pretty please,” you reply, your bottom lip jutting out subconsciously at him. Without wasting another second, Wonwoo’s hand dips past your shorts, past your panties, until it finds its way to your awaiting clit. His fingertips brush against it lightly, and behind his glasses his cat-like eyes are fixed on the way your mouth parts in a soft sigh at the contact.

He inches further down, swiping through your folds, along your slit where your arousal is already pooling. It should be embarrassing, but when Wonwoo looks at you with his v-shaped smile and pride gleaming in his eyes, you can’t feel anything but warmth—heat. All over your body and in your cheeks and especially where his fingers are prodding at your entrance.

“So wet from a kiss, baby?” he says, his fingertips growing wetter and wetter with your slick with every second that he doesn’t put them inside you.

“I get wet from you looking at me, Wonwoo,” you whine, rutting your hips as impatience stirs in your core, along with your desperate need, mingling together into a feverish dizziness that can only be cured by your pretty boyfriend’s pretty hand.

He laughs through his nose—so mean when he knows he’s got the upper hand. Then he remembers that, technically, you’re doing him a favour, and at long last two of his fingers dip into your awaiting hole, and your back arches, and you give a honeyed moan that’s full of content.

Wonwoo slides his long, slender fingers in all the way to his knuckles, curling them upwards into your sweet spot so good that you see stars for a second. He gazes upon your face that’s scrunched up in pleasure and starts to move his wrist, feeling his dick stir in his pants as you whine and toss your head back into his shoulder.

He’s not teasingly slow this time—far from it. He’s doing this to warm up, after all. Before you know it, he’s moving his entire arm as he drags his fingers back and forth, in and out of your dripping pussy with a slick, obscene sound.

“W-wonwoo, please,” you whimper, peering up with him with sparkly eyes.

“Hm?” is all he replies, but the way he’s grinning with a mixture of something like pride and awe shoots pangs of pleasure to your core.

“More,” you manage through a moan.

He obliges with a peck to your temple, angling his hand slightly, then the pad of his thumb is drawing rapid circles over your clit and your noises grow even louder, even needier.

“Fuck, Wonwoo!”

Your hands find the fabric of his hoodie and you cling to him, bucking your hips wildly while his fingers set fire to every last one of your veins.

“So good for me, baby,” he mutters, giving a soft groan of his own when your cunt clenches around his fingers at his words. He loves how predictable you are—you’ve never been immune to his sweet talk.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, grasping fistfuls of his hoodie by now.

Without hesitation Wonwoo leans down and meets your lips, kissing you hard this time, sliding his tongue against yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’d let him. Meanwhile, his fingers piston in and out of you with vigour, and you can’t imagine it getting any better until he pushes a third one past the ring of your hole, stretching you out even more deliciously than before.

Wonwoo pulls away just an inch from your face, staring intently at you as you pout. With resolve in his eyes, he brings his free hand to your mouth— he needs to warm up both hands of course— and it’s only when your glossy, puffy lips wrap absentmindedly around his middle and pointer fingers and suck that he realises how painfully hard he’s gotten.

Deep in your abdomen, a heat blooms and radiates outwards to every last inch of your limbs. It’s a winding coil that’s begging to snap, and Wonwoo can tell.

“Gonna cum?” he asks, his breath biting at your ear. His voice has fallen deeper somehow, so husky that it’s nearly a whisper.

“Mhm,” you reply, your moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with abandon and his keyboard skills come in clutch because before you can even process it, the coil deep inside you snaps.

“That’s it baby, cum for me,” he utters.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of your mouth and watches the bliss overcome your face, watches your eyes roll into the back of your head as a string of high-pitched moans falls from your lips. Your cunt clamps around his fingers, sloshing from how much slick gushes from your hole now, as he’s intent on fingering you until you come back down to earth.

When you do, and you’re left quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Wonwoo drags his fingers out of you just to pop them in his own mouth and lick them clean, though he’s not as shameless about it as you.

“Gross,” you quip.

“Yeah? I’m sure it was gross,” he replies, grinning at you. He has the patience of a saint and also the gall of a demon.

You roll your eyes in feigned contempt. “Don’t you have a stream to do?”

“Yeah, but I also have a needy girlfriend who needs to be held after she cums. Do you want ramyeon?”

You melt instantaneously, your head drooping against his chest.

“Pretty please,” you say.

Anyone would assume he’s grovelling from the way he brings you ramyeon and strawberry milk and gummy bears and your favourite chips. You know it’s just because he loves you.

He’s also trying to make up for the fact that he’s ditching you for the next three hours.

[sweetheartsofpanem]

The Club - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

putting the cut sooner than i usually would because the nightmare is kinda graphic

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 2.05k

series masterlist | main masterlist

Darkness folds around you, thick and suffocating. Then the scene shifts.

You’re small again, curled up in the living room of your childhood home, knees tucked to your chest. The screen flickers in front of you, the Capitol seal shimmering before the footage begins. The sound of the anthem rings in your ears, but it’s distant, muffled, like you’re underwater. You don’t want to watch, but you can’t look away. You are here. You are a child, just as you were then—small and powerless.

But the Dewydd on the screen is not the boy you knew. He’s smaller, dressed in a black jacket and dark jeans. His eyes are hollow, his face sharp with hunger and exhaustion. He moves differently now, every step sluggish, like his body is betraying him. You want to scream at him to run, to hide, to do something—but you can’t speak. You can only watch.

The Games have already worn him down. His collarbone juts out from beneath his shirt, his lips cracked and dry. Blood stains his temple, though you don’t know if it’s his or someone else’s. He stumbles through a forest, his breath ragged, his limbs heavy. He isn’t fast enough. You see it before he does—the girl emerging from the trees, a jagged knife clutched in her hands. He turns just as she lunges, but he’s too weak, too slow. The blade sinks into his stomach, and a choked sound tears from his throat.

You want to scream, but your voice is gone.

Dewydd falls to his knees, the knife buried deep. The girl doesn’t stop there. She rips it free, and blood spills from the wound in thick, dark waves. His hands press against it instinctively, but it’s useless. She kicks him onto his back, breathing heavily, then kneels beside him. You think she might finish him, but instead, she watches him struggle, watches the life slip from his eyes.

“Please,” you try to beg, but no sound leaves your lips. “Please stop.”

Dewydd’s breath shudders. His body trembles violently. His mouth opens, lips forming a word too quiet for the cameras to catch. But you see it.

“Y/N.”

Then he goes still. His hands fall away from his stomach, stained red. The cannon fires.

You shoot upright, your chest heaving. Your breath is loud in the silence of the room, too loud, like it doesn’t belong here. Your hands grip the couch beneath you, fingers digging into the fabric, grounding you.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. But the images won’t leave you. The blood, the knife, the way his lips had formed your name.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but all that does is make it worse.

It takes you a second to remember where you are. The weight of exhaustion and grief makes your thoughts sluggish. Then it settles. The Victor’s Village. The empty house that’s been given to you.

If Dewydd had won his Games, he would have lived here.

The thought crashes into you like a blow, knocking the breath from your lungs.

If he had come home, if he had survived, he would have lived in one of these twelve houses. Would it have been this one? Or one further down the row? At the time of his Games, Haymitch had been the only District 12 victor. The other houses had been empty. The thought of Dewydd filling one of them—of him standing in a kitchen, staring out a window, waiting for you—makes your chest ache so badly you feel like you might break apart.

He would have been here. And eventually, you would have been here too.

You think about what he’d said during your goodbye, the words full of hope but his eyes lacking any. You were too young, not even teenagers, but the idea had been there, resting between you like something fragile, waiting to be real.

Would you have married once you were older? Would you have had children one day? Would this house have been filled with warmth and love instead of this crushing emptiness?

You will never know.

A sob catches in your throat, but you swallow it down. There’s no point in crying now. It won’t bring him back. It won’t change the fact that you are here, and he is not. That he never will be.

You press your forehead against your knees, letting the silence of the house settle over you.

You mourn the life you never got to have.

After a while, the weight in your chest begins to ease—just enough for you to move again. You push yourself off the couch, your limbs heavy, your body exhausted but your mind too restless to sleep.

The stars.

You remember how beautiful they always were in District 12, how they always managed to shine through the constant smog of smoke from the mines. Before everything changed, before the weight of grief and loneliness made the world feel so small.

The thought of them pulls you toward the door.

You step outside, the night air cool against your skin. The village is eerily silent, the empty houses standing like ghosts, but above them, the sky stretches wide and open. The stars gleam, bright and sharp, scattered across the darkness like distant promises.

You sink onto the porch steps, your legs stretched out in front of you. The quiet settles around you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself just exist.

Then, the sound of footsteps breaks the stillness.

You tense, your breath catching slightly. A figure stumbles into view, moving unevenly through the dim light of the village.

Haymitch.

He’s not falling-down drunk, but it’s clear he’s had more drinks since you left Katniss’ house. His steps are unsteady, his posture loose. When he spots you, he squints slightly, then makes his way toward your porch.

“Can’t sleep either, huh, kid?” His voice is slurred but not unkind.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice. He huffs out a breath, then nods toward the spot beside you. “Mind if I sit?”

You hesitate, but then you shrug. He lowers himself onto the step with a groan, stretching his legs out in front of him. For a few moments, there’s only silence.

But you can feel his gaze on you.

“Y’know,” he says suddenly, his tone dry, “most kids pick less dramatic hobbies. Knitting. Playing the flute. But you? Looks like you went for something a little more—” he makes a vague gesture toward your wrist “—artistic.”

Your stomach clenches, but there’s no cruelty in his voice. Just that same biting humor he seems to alway carry. You glance down at your arms, the white, slightly raised scars catching in the dim light.

You exhale slowly. “I was young. Went through a lot of shit. It messed me up.”

Haymitch nods like he already knew that. “And you stopped?”

“Last year.”

He hums. “Well. Guess that’s better than me. My brilliant solution’s still going strong.” He lifts his flask in a mock toast before taking a swig.

You don’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t seem to expect a response.

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s not uncomfortable. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and for once, he doesn’t seem like just the bitter, drunken victor everyone sees him as. There’s something else there, something tired and worn but… real.

Haymitch leans back slightly, taking another lazy sip from his flask. “You ever try anything else?” he asks after a while.

You hesitate. “Like what?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Whatever people do when they’re trying not to fall apart.”

For a moment, you consider lying. Shrugging it off like you don’t have an answer. But you’re tired of hiding—especially from someone like him.

So instead, you exhale, glancing down at your hands. “I was an alcoholic,” you admit, voice quiet but steady. “Got sober last year. Same time I quit cutting.”

Haymitch doesn’t react right away, just watches you with a look you can’t quite place. Then, he huffs a short laugh. “Huh. Guess that makes one of us.”

It’s not self-pitying. Not even bitter. Just the truth.

And somehow, that makes you feel… lighter. The awkwardness that’s been knotting your stomach around him starts to unravel, easing into something more natural.

You glance at him, then let out a small chuckle, the sound surprising even yourself. “You wanna know something funny?”

Haymitch lifts a brow. “Doubt it’s actually funny, but sure. Knock yourself out, kid.”

You shake your head slightly, still half-smiling. “When I was fourteen—that’s when I started drinking. And that’s also when I disappeared from school.” You pause, fingers tracing an invisible pattern on your thigh. “Every time I went out, I was usually drunk. And I’d always hear the other kids whispering about me, saying how I was gonna end up alone, drinking myself to death.” You glance at him, your lips quirking wryly. “Like Haymitch Abernathy.”

Haymitch snorts, but there’s no offense in it. If anything, he almost looks amused.

You shake your head again, exhaling another quiet laugh. “Kinda funny that I’m sitting here now with the person they thought I’d become.”

He smirks. “Well, congrats, kid. You made it.” He raises his flask in a mock toast before taking another swig. “Hope you’re enjoying the view from rock bottom.”

You roll your eyes but don’t fight the grin tugging at your lips. “Not exactly what I’d call an honor.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighs dramatically, leaning back against the porch railing. “Can’t all be as lucky as me.”

The silence that follows isn’t heavy. It isn’t awkward. It’s just… there. Easy in a way you didn’t expect.

You’re talking about nothing in particular when Haymitch seems to notice the sudden shift in you. You’re vaguely aware of it, but don’t want to fully acknowledge the way your words come easier now, how you don’t hesitate before speaking. You’re still quiet—your voice never really raises above a certain level—but there’s something different. Less guarded. More natural. You feel him watch you for a beat, then he smirks.

“Knew there was more to you than just the awkward, skittish kid.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, there’s depth. But it’s mostly just rambling, sarcasm, and self-loathing. Nothing too special.”

“Ah, self-loathing. My favorite personality trait,” he drawls. “And here I thought I was the only one who had it mastered.”

You tilt your head slightly, glancing at him. “You may have seniority, but I give you a run for your money.”

He snorts, taking a swig from his flask. “You’re only twenty. You’ve got plenty of years to catch up, kid.”

You exhale a quiet chuckle. “Maybe. But I’ve been ahead of the curve for a while. My mother made sure of that.”

Haymitch doesn’t say anything to that, just nods and lifts the flask to his lips again. “Well,” he mutters, “guess that means you’re in the club.”

You hum in response, turning your gaze back to the sky. The stars are bright tonight, sharper than you remember them ever being when you were a kid. You’ve always loved them—how constant they are, how they don’t change no matter how much everything else does.

“They look clearer,” you murmur. “Brighter.”

“No more ever present smoke from the mines to drown ‘em out,” Haymitch replies.

You nod, and for a while, neither of you speak. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. It settles between you both like something familiar, something easy.

Eventually, Haymitch breaks it. “You ever gonna explain how you became an alcoholic so young, or are we just skimming past that?”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not that interesting. I was fourteen, my best friend and my dad had just died, and I wanted to stop feeling like my entire world had collapsed. Fiza’s mother was an alcoholic. She gave me my first drink, and after that… it just kept going. Drinking helped. Until it didn’t.”

Haymitch nods, like he understands exactly what you mean. He probably does.

“And now that you’re sober?” he asks.

You shrug. “Now I sit on porches and talk to washed-up victors instead.”

He smirks. “Yeah, real improvement.”

You just smile, small but genuine. For the first time in years, you feel… comfortable.

Next Part

[decentwritings]

Chapter 1

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

next part

The game you were playing was beginning to bore you. The music wasn't even all that and your butt feels sore after sitting on these steps for the last three hours. A couple of drunk teenagers stumble by you again and you can't help but scoff in annoyance.

The extra battery pack you brought was dead and you had about seventeen percent left on your phone. You knew the idea of bringing a backpack was smart, but what was stupid was not bringing an extra charger.

You're stuck here as designated driver for your roommate and her friends. You got the short end of the stick because Anika claims she wants you to get along with her girlfriend. Something about her girlfriend having trust issues with people she doesn't know.

You can't even recall her name.

Miranda? Martha? Melinda?

It starts with an M.

Also, she kicked your ass in ten games of rock-paper-scissors.

The last hour there have been people coming out, not coming in anymore. The costumes were sad this year, and that's coming from someone who doesn't even celebrate. You think you saw one of Anika's friends as a slutty pirate? Maybe it was just a regular pirate; either way, it was lacking creativity.

She is pretty, though.

“Hey!”

You pick your head up, eyebrows connecting at the random outburst. You look around, suddenly aware no one else is sober enough or free to pay attention. So this woman must be calling you out.

And stupidly, you point at yourself and ask, “Me?”

The woman stalks over, and you stand, ready to fight to defend yourself. You lift your fists up but then they fall to your side at the taser in her hand.

“Where's my sister?” She asks, the taser sparks and you can't seem to find an escape with the house pressing against your back.

“I...I don't know,” you stutter, eyes on the taser and watching it move as she speaks.

“Let me through.”

You jump over the ledge and fall into the bushes, allowing the woman entrance to the home. You fall with a thud and groan, spitting leaves out of your mouth in the process. When you stand, the couple making out by the bushes stare at you with a mix of concern and irritation.

“Joker, Black Widow,” you say, stumbling out of the bush with a grunt. “Nice crossover. As you were,” you brush the remaining leaves off your clothes.

You attempt to enter the home, to warn Anika and her friends of some lunatic with a taser. But that same lunatic comes out with Anika and her friends in tow.

Anika tugs you along with her as they stalk out of the property. You groan at the pull, the grip she has on you is causing a pinching pain.

“My car!” you shout, glancing back at your parked car in the distance.

“We'll get it later,” Anika mutters, releasing you a second later.

The lunatic, who you learned is named Sam, shouts after the sister she was looking for, Tara. You follow behind with your shoulders slumped, solemn at the thought of your car parked in a street you don't know.

You're unaware of the group stopping to watch the sisters argue and you continue sulking past them. Hands tucked in your pockets, you kick a rock gently, turning and stopping in your tracks.

You regret ever allowing Anika to convince you to be designated driver. You're going to ask for a change of roommate when you get back.

But it goes to the back of your mind when you overhear someone behind you say, “is that the murderer?”

You raise a brow and look at the voice, tilting your head when you lock eyes with the stranger. And the stranger is throwing something at Sam before you can even comprehend her words.

“Murderer!”

The liquid hits Sam dead on, angering the older woman and unleashing the built up anger she most likely held back during the argument with her sister. Chad has to grab ahold of Sam then Tara to avoid a bigger fight from occurring.

Something in you shouts to get away from these people. It's a loud voice that you know belongs to your parents, who always told you to stay away from the wrong crowd. And maybe, this is what they meant by wrong crowd.

You stay back as they all walk away, just a few feet away from a sad, soaked and tired Sam. You exhale a breath, waiting for Ethan to walk away from his awkward interaction with the older woman. You take off your backpack and unzip it to grab the towel you packed.

While your parents raised you to run from danger, they also taught you manners. You step up to Sam cautiously, extending the towel towards her slowly.

Sam looks between you and the towel. It takes her a minute to decide if she can trust you, or maybe trust the towel. You aren't sure, but you reassure her. "It's better than whatever was on the napkins Ethan gave you," you shrug.

Sam takes the towel, or rather snatches it. She doesn't say anything, and you take that as her silently telling you to leave her alone. You turn and walk the other direction, away from the group. For once, you're listening to your parents' advice.

You decide it's a good night to be away from your roommate. So you head to your cousin's place, knowing his place was just a few blocks away. That way, you could wake up and pick up your car on your way back to your dorm.

You text your cousin to warn him of your presence at his apartment, to avoid interrupting any activities occurring. He texts back informing you he was on his way there, too, to wait for him by the door.

You hear a chuckle to your left a few minutes after arriving to his apartment building. As he gets closer, he points to the name tag on your shirt.

“Dennis?” He asks, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

You shrug. “The party I was at wouldn't let me stay if I didn't have a costume,” you wait patiently for him to unlock the door.

You follow him in, listening to him as he speaks. “And they allowed the fake name tag as a costume?” He asks, closing the door behind you.

You pause at the entrance, freezing when you see Sam at the bottom of the stairwell. You face your cousin with wide eyes. “I'm being followed,” you whisper, eyes filled with panic.

He looks behind you and locks eyes with Sam. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Head on up, I'll meet you there,” he tells you, handing you his keys.

You pause and stare at him like he's crazy, but don't question it, snatching the keys from his hands. You practically sprint past Sam, but pause at the first step to tell your cousin, “she's got a taser, Danny.” you warn him.

Sam glances back at you with narrowed eyes. You scurry off without another word.

You aren't sure how long you wait for your cousin, hoping he's still alive. All you know is, when he does return, you run up to him and immediately ask questions.

“How do you know taser girl?” You ask first, unaware of his worried state. You follow him into his kitchen, questions still flying out of your mouth. “How long have you known taser girl? Did she always live in this building? Why are people calling her a murderer? Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?” You ask when you finally notice his state.

Danny leans against the counter. “She's leaving,” he mumbles, as if he is just now realizing this.

You raise a brow. “What?”

Danny looks at you, and he thinks about all the possible outcomes of telling you the truth. Sam may have passed over a little of her skepticism to him. He's found himself questioning everyone's intentions at times, even at the smallest things like when his coworker ask him to pass him the salt one day at lunch.

“Sam is the girl I'm seeing,” Danny finally says, a weight falling off his shoulders after the words come out of his mouth. All you do is raise a brow. “We've been keeping it secret from her sister and her friends...”

“And me apparently,” you mutter.

Danny sends you an apologetic look, then he sighs sadly. “She's leaving,” he says again. “There was a murder of some students at Blackmore, your school.”

You frown. “Lucky bastards,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest childishly.

Danny's expression goes blank, a deadpan look crossing his face. He runs a hand down his face and shakes his head.

“It was a joke,” you say, eyes casting down to avoid his look. “What's the big deal of the murder anyway? It's New York. People die. We move on. It's the circle of life.”

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, your parents really did shield you from the world,” he mutters, huffing a breath afterward. “Do you watch the news? Check the internet–do you even know who Sam Carpenter is?” He asks you after a beat.

You shrug. “Relative of Jesus? I don't know, Danny– can't you just tell me instead of having me guess?” You give up, patience gone along with your interest in his love life.

And so Danny begins to explain, about Sam Carpenter's past. He tells you she's not just anyone—and you think he was going drone on about how amazing she is but no, he tells you she's tied to a dark legacy, one that involves a string of murders that happened in Woodsboro. Sam is the daughter of Billy Loomis, one of the original killers from those infamous Ghostface murders.

You don't watch the news, so he has to explain the Woodsboro murders. He tells you there's movies about it and you remind him you don't watch horror movies. It leads to a long argument of what movie genre is the best–man, ADHD is in everyone in the family.

Your head spins as Danny returns to his explanation. And you try to piece it all together, figuring out the whole relative thing, the murders and the murderers. You decide to suck it up and watch the Stab movies when you get the time.

Right now, you have bigger things to think about. “Wait, you're telling me your girlfriend is related to some psychopath who went on a killing spree? And people think she might be involved in this new murder at Blackmore?”

Danny looks exhausted but nods. “That's why they're calling her a murderer. She's been trying to escape all of this, but it's followed her here.”

You scoff. “Man, you know how to pick 'em,” you laugh gently, going back to the living room to sit on the couch.

Danny follows behind you, glaring.

You sink into the couch, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry. Geez,” you mutter. “So you're dating a woman who might be the next Ghostface? Or worse, the target of another psycho?”

Danny shrugs, taking a seat beside you on the couch, shaking his head. “She's not the killer. I know her. She's just... trying to live a normal life. But people won't let her. You saw what happened tonight.”

You groan and lean back. “Great. Now I'm stuck in the middle of some horror movie drama.”

Danny frowns at that, worry lines deepening on his face. “Listen, just stay out of it, okay?”

“Believe me, I'm trying,” you huff.

“Sam's trying to leave all this behind. She's not dangerous. Just... misunderstood,” Danny defends.

You're quiet for a while, processing. “So, what now? She's leaving, but what about you?”

He shrugs, looking defeated. “I don't know. Maybe it's better this way.”

You let out a long sigh, not sure what to think anymore. Everything seems so absurd, like you've just been pulled into some twisted movie plot. “This better not end with me getting stabbed,” you mutter, half-joking but half-serious.

Danny gives you a tired smile. “I'll make sure it doesn't.” But his tone doesn't inspire much confidence, and you're left wondering just how deep this whole thing goes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you assume it's your mom checking in on you. You had told her of your plans and she was adamant of you not going to the party. You should have listened.

You also shouldn't have picked up the phone.

“Sweet mother,” you answer the phone, grinning at your cousin. He rolls his eyes, but the smile on his lips tells you he found it funny.

You expect an answer but nothing comes. You look at your phone screen and tilt your head at the lack of caller ID on it.

“Hello?” You say, waiting for some kind of response.

“Hello, Dennis,” your eyebrows raise, looking at your cousin. “Welcome to the party. Are you having fun?”

You pause to really think of an honest answer for the question. The voice isn't one you recognize, then again, this person did call you by your fake name; he may not know you either.

“Well, not really,” you reply, shoulders sagging as you continue, “and I'm not Dennis. You either got the wrong number or you assume my name is Dennis 'cause you saw me at the party.”

“Oh but I have the right number,” the voice responds, almost giddily.

“Who is it?” Danny whispers, scooting closer to you.

You wave him off, listening to them continue.

“Your cousin thinks he's so clever, doesn't he?” The voice says, menacingly. “Always two steps ahead. But he'll never see me coming. Neither of you will,” then the line goes dead.

You shake your head when you hear the tone signaling the end of the call. You huff and drop your phone to your lap. Danny waits for you to explain the call.

“Some dude called,” you start, nonchalantly. “Said we're not gonna see him coming.”

Danny's eyes widen, standing to grab his phone in the kitchen. You're lost at his sudden rush and concern, following him slowly. He has his phone pressed to his ear, waiting anxiously for someone to answer.

He slams his phone on the counter a few seconds later. He grabs his keys then turns to you. “Let's go. I need your help.”

He doesn't explain and you stupidly follow him, wondering what exactly he needs help with. When you exit the apartment building, he turns to you, eyes wide, frantic, and filled with worry.

“Can you handle this?”

“Handle what? You haven't explained anything,” you reply, an unsettling feeling growing in your gut. “You're freaking me out, Danny.”

“We have to split up, but don't stop looking over your shoulder,” he grips your shoulders, forcing you to meet his frantic eyes. “These GhostFace fanatics are freaks and you have to watch out for yourself. Can you handle this?”

The look on your cousin's face worries you, but your need to always help him—because he's always helped you, no matter what—makes you decide. You nod, confident and determined. You want your cousin to know he can count on you, just like you can count on him.

Not that you ever expected to chase after a killer to help your girlfriend. You're pretty sure you'd never get in a situation like this. You don't have fight in you; only flight.

But hell, if Danny needs you to search for that inner fight, you'll do it for him.

“You go that way, I'll go this way,” he points to the left then the right. “You knocked me out once when we were younger, think you can do that to a freak in a mask?”

You stare at him blankly. “I was ten and hyped up on sugar,” he sighs, regret crossing his face for bringing you into this. You shake your head, wanting to reassure him. “I got a knife,” you say as you pull out the box cutter your brother gave you for work.

Danny stares at it but doesn't comment. “Be careful,” he says, lifting his phone. “And call when you find them.”

You raise your hand to your forehead, saluting. He sprints off after doing a quick look around your surroundings. You do the same, gripping the box cutter in your hand like a lifeline.

You peek into every alley before passing it, making sure there isn't anyone lurking. You're not exactly sure how far you are from Danny's apartment when you reach the bodega at the corner. You come to a slow stop as several people run screaming out of the store.

“Please be a robbery,” you mutter, summoning the courage to fight instead of run. You bounce on your feet a few times, hyping yourself up before you finally walk up to the bodega's doors.

A bell chimes when you open the door, and the scene before you immediately makes you rethink your bravado.

GhostFace turns with the shotgun pointed at you. You've seen the mask before at stores, and you find it ridiculous that people are using a Halloween costume as a way to kill people.

“Wrong store, I'll come back late—”

You duck just in time to avoid the bullet and crawl toward the closest thing you can find for cover. You've played enough video games to know how to survive someone shooting at you.

You press your back against the shelf, heart pounding as you catch your breath. The bodega aisles stretch out in front of you, offering minimal coverage. You glance at the door–running seems like a bad idea. You could make a run for it, but you know bullets fly faster than you run.

His footsteps echo throughout the bodega, slow and deliberate; like he has all the time in the world. But he can't be stupid, someone must have called 911 by now. Right?

You peek around the shelf, catching a glimpse of the mirror hanging from the ceiling. You watch it to see what direction GhostFace is walking to. You see him step over a body, and you're aware it was cashier who probably tried to play hero.

Then, you see them and you roll your head in annoyance. Danny was not lying. Her past follows her so of course Sam and Tara are here, hiding from the freak in the mask.

“I could be in bed,” you mumble, looking at the shelf you're hiding behind for something to use. “But noooo...the one time you rebel against your parents' wishes, you get stuck in some shitty fanfiction a weirdo is writing,” you grab a can, then a jar of olives.

You glance at the mirror, GhostFace is steps away from discovering Sam and Tara so you don't even acknowledge Sam's attempt to get your attention–you toss the can towards the door. He quickly turns and reacts with shooting a nonexistent figure.

You stand now that his back was turned, lifting your arm to throw the jar at his head. As the jar flies in the air, you whistle to get his attention and timed it well to hit him square in the face. The shotgun falls out of his hands and you shout at the sisters to run.

They don't need to be told twice. Sam grabs Tara's arm, pulling her along as they run out of the store. You can hear sirens in the distance but you keep your eyes on GhostFace, who finally regains his composure. He looks out the bodega's windows and sees the flashing lights, then looks back at you with a look that tells you he is not happy.

He runs away and disappears towards the back, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

Did you just face off with a murderer?

You exit the store with your hands up, not wanting the cops to assume you're a threat. Either way, you're handled roughly by an officer as he grips your hands to cuff.

Sam and Tara appear out of nowhere, pulling you out of the replay of the events that occurred in the store. You blink, feeling the cuffs bite your wrists with a tight pinch.

“Stop, they helped us,” Sam says first, voice firm as she glares at the officer. Tara doesn't wait long to support her statement.

“Helped how?” The officer asks, eyeing you and now them suspiciously. Still, he doesn't even loosen his grip on your wrists.

“New York's finest,” you mumble with a head shake. You grimace when his grips tightens. “Oww,” you drawl out.

“They distracted GhostFace long enough for us to get out,” Tara adds, sending you a warning glare to keep your mouth shut. You duck your head, pursing your lips into a thin line. “If it weren't for them, we wouldn't have gotten out,” she jumps to your defense again.

The officer eyes you all, eyes squinting as he stares. He grunts then, “wait here.”

“Am I under arrest?” You asks as he walks away. You groan at his lack of response.

You tap your foot, aware of the presence of the sisters. You can feel the tension from the Carpenters without even looking at them. The last time you were alone with Sam, you ended up in a bush. Last time you saw Tara, she was wearing a pirate costume and laughing about it. Now, here you are. Life, huh?

“Nice night,” you mumble, because apparently, you never learn when to keep your mouth shut.

Both sisters look at you, deadpan. If looks could slap, you'd be on the ground. You shut up, but only for a second, because now Danny comes running up, and you know this is going to be great.

“Oh god, what did you do?” Danny hisses, eyes darting between you and the sisters.

“Saved your girlfriend,” you snarl, feeling deeply insulted that he automatically assumes you did something stupid. Danny freezes, eyes widening in horror at the worst-kept secret in the room.

You walk up to the officer as makes his way over to you. “Please say I'm under arrest,” you practically plead, wanting to escape from this reality.

The officer shakes his head, signaling for you to turn around. You do as you're told, feeling him unlock the cuffs from around your wrists. The stares from the three of them make you shift uncomfortably, keeping your head down until you're able to feel your wrists, holding them against your chest to soothe the ache.

Tara snaps her neck towards her sister, her gaze sharp. “Girlfriend?” she asks, voice icy.

Sam winces, like she knew this was coming. “Not now, Tara,” she nods in the direction a detective walking over to them.

The man smiles crookedly, stepping up to them almost awkwardly. “Care to explain?” He starts, then looks between you and Danny. “I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm detective Bailey.”

“Danny,” your cousin introduces himself, crossing his arms over his chest. There's a tension between them and he feels it thickening with each second passing.

Bailey turns to you. You tap on the fake name tag still on your shirt. “Dennis,” you lie, earning yourself an elbow to your side. You glare at Danny before returning to look at the detective. “Y/N,” you mumble, huffing.

Bailey nods, then sighs as his gaze returns to the Carpenter sisters. “I think you know what I'm going to say,” he says.

Sam nods, arms crossed over her chest defensively. “Let's go then,” she makes her way to the car the detective came in, her sister following.

Danny does the same but you, however, don't move. You didn't sign up for whatever this is. This is your chance to finally step away from this situation. Then, like they all practiced, they turn back to look at you.

“I'm fine here,” you say dismissively. “I appreciate the invite though–”

“Get in the car,” Danny orders with a glare, pointing to the vehicle.

You didn't plan to, you really didn't. But when you look at Tara–when Tara looks back at you, her expression shifting from anger to something softer—vulnerability, maybe. For a second, she's not the girl who just stared down a serial killer; she's just... someone who doesn't want to be alone.

That gets you. You barely know the girl but those eyes draw you in. Screw you and your inability to walk away from a pretty girl. You shuffle toward the car, muttering under your breath several complaints.

You squish in the back seat, Tara seated between you and Sam. The drive to the police station drives by the house the whole night started at. You frown at the sight of your car, lonesome and abandoned.

You sigh dramatically, your mind suddenly reminding you of the one thing that truly matters. “Ahh, fuck,” you groan, earning immediate side-eyes from everyone in the car. “I've got a paper due at midnight.”

Danny turns, his expression a perfect blend of exhaustion and disbelief. “Stop talking.”

And for once, you do.

As you approach the police station, the lights flickering in the night like a beacon of both hope and uncertainty, you realize that whatever happens next, you're not alone. You might be just a regular person caught in a slasher film, but now you're part of something bigger. You were here for Danny, and were further dragged in by Tara's doe eyes, and maybe—just maybe—this wild ride will lead to something unexpected. Hell, this may turn out for a good final senior thesis.

You take a deep breath, feeling that flicker of determination ignite within you. No matter how this night ends, you won't let fear hold you back. After all, survival is a team sport, and you're ready to play.

The car rolls to a stop, and as you all step out into the bright lights of the police station, you can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of a very messy adventure. But at least you'll face it with someone.

[reminiscingtonight]

Joyride

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Only Fletcher can help get me out of a writing slump

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re not sure how this happened.

You’re supposed to hate her, supposed to despise the very ground she walks.

But here she is, Leah Williamson, in your kitchen at hours so early they would be considered blasphemous to the normal everyday person. Dressed in nothing but one of your boxers and ratty college t-shirts, you can’t help but rake your eyes over her figure. 

Leah’s got half of her face buried in your fridge, looking for some food, but still, you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you tear your eyes away and refocus onto the spoon in front of you. Given that you weren’t really expecting any company last night, Leah can’t really blame you for not having much in your fridge to offer as breakfast.

You were quite nearly asleep yourself when you heard the knock on your door. An extra long training session paired with the club you went to the night before left you with barely enough energy to shower and microwave some leftovers when you got home. Only about half of it was eaten before you decided to call it a night and trudge up your stairs, your bed already calling for you. It was there, halfway up the stairs when you heard the clear rap of knuckles upon the door.

Though you were bone dead tired, the second you opened the door to see Leah, suddenly all traces of sleep flew out of your mind. You fisted a hand in her shirt, dragged her in for a bruising kiss, and the rest was history.

You look back up when Leah lets out a cry of triumph. There’s an air of smugness around her as she takes a bite of the peach she found, somehow looking so goddamn attractive even as the nectar drips onto the table. If Leah was literally anyone else you would be up in arms about keeping your kitchen sanitary. But given the less than PG things she did to you here last night after showing up unannounced… well let’s just say it would probably be a bit hypocritical of you to tell her to be more mindful of your kitchen counter.

And there you have it. A very domestic scene with Leah, the two of you enjoying the minimalistic breakfast whipped up on the whim. 

God, how did you end up here?

Before a couple years ago, you only knew briefly of Leah. And then the Euros happened. The second England knocked you out was the second you decided to make an enemy of the English captain. It was bad enough your own captain tore her ACL moments before the entire tournament began. All hopes of making her proud ended with your own departure from the tournament.

In your dreams the quarter-final ended differently. You and the Spanish girls tore up the field and ended up bringing the trophy home. But then you woke and news of the pending transfers broke, and then you were sat with the idea of having to share your every breath with two Euros winners at training every day.

And thus came the beginning of the end.

In all honesty, you didn’t hate Leah long.

With the addition of her best mate to your squad, it was no surprise how often Leah came over to Barcelona. Keira’s appearance paired with Lia’s relationship with Mariona left Leah with a multitude of excuses to continue showing up to games and nights out with the team.

It sure didn’t help that after one particular night where the two of you drank a little too much, the two of you woke up tangled in your sheets wrapped up around each other. Despite your attempts at calling it a one night thing, one night turned into two and two into three and then suddenly every time Leah came to Barcelona the two of you ended up spending at least a couple hours together in bed.

Neither of you have really broached the topic much. Somewhere along the lines, everything changed. Though the sex was still very much there and still very very good, you guys began going on what could be considered dates. You showed Leah all the best places in Barcelona. She introduced you to her best friends at home in London. You surprised her by going to a couple of her games, she returned the favor just as quickly. In all pretenses the two of you were dating.

But you are a girl with standards, and those standards meant waiting until Leah came up with the nerve to actually ask you out before explicitly turning this into a real relationship.

And here you are, still waiting.

“I’m hungry.” 

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a sheepish looking Leah. Clearly the peach wasn’t filling enough by the guilty look still on her face.

It’s honestly more evidence of your failure as a host, but you can’t help but poke fun at her a bit.

“Well that seems like a you problem. I’m still eating.” As if to prove your point, you give your spoon another lick.

Leah raises an eyebrow at your clear challenge. “I want actual food.”

“What, peaches aren’t enough?”

“Peach. Singular. And I need more than one to be full. I’m an active girl after all.”

You snort. “Oh are you? I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you kicking balls around with the rec team down the street.”

Leah’s mouth drops open. You swear she actually looks offended at your jest. “Rec team? I’ll have you know Arsenal is the best football club anyone could play for.”

“Yet you’re here. In Barcelona. We actually have a big girl’s team here if you want to join.”

“As if I would ever,” she scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It’s your turn to be on the defensive. Having come up through La Masia, you were Barcelona bred through and through.

“Oh hush you, I know Kei has been trying to convince you to manipulate me to join. You guys may be my favorite people but I’ll leave Arsenal when hell freezes over.”

Your heart makes a strange flutter at Leah’s admittance of fondness for you, but you do what you do best and deflect instead. “And here I was, thinking you came to see me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t.”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to believe you hopped on a flight to Barcelona in the middle of the season just because you wanted a quick fuck?”

“Well I…” Leah looks a bit awkward as she tries to explain her presence. “Lia didn’t want to fly over here alone. So like a good friend…” she trails off with a wince.

Having too much fun to leave this alone, you continue to prod at her. “You call hooking up with me being a good friend to Lia?”

“Psh, semantics. She’s here to see her girlfriend too. It wasn’t like we were going to see much of each other anyways.”

“Oh, so we’re girlfriends now? Don’t think I ever got that memo.”

Leah’s face flushes a bright pink. “That’s not-- I wasn’t saying-- Don’t get me wrong--”

She buries her face in her hands when you burst out laughing, clearly having caught on to what you’re doing now.

“Stop teasing me! I barely got any sleep last night!”

“And whose fault is that?”

Leah rolls her eyes before breathing out a long breath. 

When she sets her shoulders, you can almost see the return of cocky Leah. She rounds the counter, coming dangerously close to you.

“Put the spoon down.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Make me.”

Leah’s grinning when she gladly does as you say. One hand comes to grab at your wrist, the other finding purchase on the tabletop behind you. 

You watch with half lidded eyes as she guides the spoon to her mouth, hand never touching the silverware itself. Before you know it, she’s licked clean the peanut butter, leaving you with nothing but a new kind of hunger burning in your veins.

Leah hasn’t even let go of your wrist before you’re hooking a hand behind her neck and dragging her in for a kiss.

If Leah wanted to see just how good of a girlfriend you’d be, you would just have to show her.

And what better way than to introduce her to your bed again?

[sl-ut]

Can you please do a Jesse x Miller Reader smut where Joel and Tommy catch them and Ellie comes in like 😨 then starts mocking them THANK YOUUU🫶

the thing

omg i’ve had this request in my inbox for like two years :’(( so sorry but i’ve been really digging the actor for jesse in the show so here we are! it’s not specific to the show so you can imagine it as live action or game jesse! i also went kinda off track from the request but has similar vibes only it's tommy teasing them and not ellie. also there's no real smut but i would def be open to doing a part two with some!

pairing: jesse (tlou) x fem!miller!reader

description: jackson was not a very big place, so why did it take so long for them to connect?

warnings: slightly nsfw towards the end but no smut, swearing, slight au but it doesn’t really change anything (joel and ellie don’t interact in this but in my mind it’s important that they have made up), reader is referenced to not fit into jesse’s clothes but there’s no indication of whether its too big or too small so that’s up to your imagination, alcohol and weed use, mentions of violence and r’s shitty ex but neither actually appear.

words: 4.8K

date posted: 6/5/25

Jesse found himself tapping his foot repeatedly against the pavement, eyes flickering down to check the faltering watch on his wrist, always a minute behind no matter how many times he rewound it. Oh well, he was one of the few in Jackson who had the luxury of owning a watch while everyone else relied on wall clocks alone. Still, no matter how slow the moving hands of his watch were, the girl was now at least ten minutes late.

“Good afternoon,” her voice chirped as she rounded the corner with an easy grin on her face and her preferred horse following in tow, expression betraying absolutely no remorse for her tardiness, “you ready?”

“I was ready ten minutes ago,” he told her, rolling his eyes, “you know, when we were supposed to head out? What’s your excuse this time?”

The girl scoffed, “I was in the bakery all morning, you know how Penny gets–you don’t leave ‘til she says so.”

His head tilted to the side for a moment; as far as her past excuses went, this was probably the most believable, especially since he caught a whiff of warm cinnamon as she came to stand next to him. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “I’ll let you off this time. Let’s just get moving, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she saluted him, turning to climb atop her horse with ease. 

Until recently, the girl was not someone that Jesse would have considered a friend. He knew her from around town, of course, and they generally ran in the same circle (which was basically just a group of people within a three year age range), but they had only spoken a handful of times prior to being assigned to patrol together. He’d actually been the first to make her feel welcome within the younger crowd in Jackson when she’d first arrived, but she soon started dating a boy named Keegan, who Jesse particularly did not like, while he had started hanging out with Ellie and Dina more once he and Dina had started dating. 

Now that they had been spending more time together a few times per week, Jesse wondered how they hadn’t hit it off from the beginning. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t initially attracted to her, as he’d always thought she was very pretty, and she was impossibly easy to talk to. His only flaw was the fact that he had given her space after she had arrived bruised and battered and clearly so clearly mentally drained by whatever she had faced out in the wild, though it had been for that very reason that she became so easily attached to Keegan. He was the first one that she had felt personally close to when she arrived in town, which had translated to a lingering sense of protection, even when he wasn’t always the nicest to her. 

The patrol had gone relatively easily, coming across only a small handful of infected along the way, which the pair of them were able to take out within seconds of spotting them, and they had been able to make up for lost time. Conversation flowed easily between the pair–random questions, town gossip, and just about anything that either of them could think of. 

“Are you going to the thing tomorrow night?” 

“The thing?” Jesse hummed teasingly, “Which thing?”

“I mean, it is the only thing going on tomorrow night,” she joked, “you know, the thing!”

“Oh, that thing,” Jesse snorted, “the one at the Bison? Tomorrow night at seven o’clock sharp?”

She giggled, “Yes, that thing at that specific time and place. Are you going?”

Jesse shrugged, “Dunno. I was gonna go, but I think Dina is and we haven’t really been on the best terms lately. I feel like I’d just be looking for trouble.”

“Oh shit, I feel like every time I hear about you two it’s something different.”

Jesse watched her from the corner of his eye for a moment, eyes following the sunlit glow as it traced her features. He sighed, “Yeah, well…I don’t even know what to say about that. I care about Dina, a lot, but I don’t know if I see this going on for much longer. I feel like I need someone a little more mature, less prone to drama, and she needs someone that…”

“Doesn’t have a stick up their ass 24/7?”

His head whirled to the side, catching her beaming face as she fought back a laugh at his own shocked expression, “Excuse me? Don’t make me report you to Tommy for insubordination.”

She scoffed, “Oh please, like he’s gonna do anything.”

“You’re right about that,” Jesse rolled his eyes, “I’d probably get in more trouble for it than you would, kiss ass.”

“I am not a kiss ass!” She argued, “He just loves me more than he loves you. Maybe you just need to try harder.”

“Maybe I just need to be related to him. That worked out easily enough for you, didn’t it?”

Those who had any sort of personal connection with Tommy Miller had heard tell of his older brother, the one who hadn’t been the same since the end of civilization and had been his inspiration to branch out from the QZ and seek some sort of better life, whether that would be with the Fireflies or not. The last he’d seen him was back in the Boston QZ months before he had even arrived in Jackson. No one would have expected him to ever hear of him again, let alone for the older Miller to turn up at Jackson’s gates with two young girls at his side. 

They had all made their own impacts on the community. Joel had become a trusted councilmember and quickly became someone that people saw as a strong leader, while Ellie had become known for her fiery temper and headstrong attitude. The third member of their party, however, had become a central figure in Jackson’s social scene, quickly becoming popular among the younger crowd while also making an effort to maintain familiarity with as many other members of the community as possible. She was often responsible for the parties that took place and seasonal celebrations, often being seen as a goody-two-shoes to most while also having a tendency to party with her inner circle. Jesse often wondered how she had the energy to do it all, and he was not the only one who found it so surprising to discover that the girl made of sunshine was the daughter of Jackson’s resident grump himself, Joel Miller. 

She didn’t answer him, huffing quietly as she rolled her eyes. She was not angry with him, not truly, but it was difficult to not feel irked by his comment considering that some around town often criticized her father and uncle for giving her and Ellie special treatment. Of course, they felt more of an attachment to the two young girls, as would anyone else for their own children, but she did not feel that either of them let her off any easier than anyone else when she landed herself into trouble. 

“You’re going with Keegan, I assume?” Jesse asked, suddenly self conscious by her silence, “To the thing, I mean.”

She snorted a laugh, “You assumed wrong. We broke up two weeks ago.”

“Oh,” he swallowed, unsure of how to proceed. He’d never heard her sound so annoyed in the entire time that he had known her, “Sorry to hear.”

“It’s fine. I just realized one day that he treated me like shit. I’m over it. Though, I’m surprised you didn’t already know. Last I heard he’s been spreading it around town faster than the clap.”

Jesse choked out a laugh, “Don’t tell me…”

“A rumour I heard after we broke up,” she chuckled, “but he’s apparently shacked up with Emily, Theresa, and Melissa since then, so it’s not out of the question. Honestly, doc says I didn’t show any signs so I don’t really care.”

“Fair,” he nodded, “so are you still going?”

“Dunno, I guess I am the one who planned it…” she thought for a moment before a small smirk appeared on her face, “I’ll go if you do. We can drink and endure the presence of our exes together.”

Jesse sighed, “That’s a hard bargain you’re driving.”

“Some call me a businesswoman by heart,” she shrugged, “what do you say?”

He turned his gaze back to her, feeling a small stutter in his chest as their eyes met. She offered him a soft smile, melting his weak attempt at playing cool away until he found himself relenting, agreeing to attend the thing together despite his innate desire to avoid his ex-girlfriend at all costs. The grin that split her face made his limbs feel like jelly and brought a scarlet flush up the nape of his neck and across his cheeks. They continued on in silence, only sharing a few more words throughout the rest of their patrol route until the gates of Jackson came back into view. 

He dismounted his horse once they were inside, offering a hand up to the girl as she did the same. He was glad that the weather had been warmer that day, meaning that he had gone without gloves for patrol and he was able to feel the warmth of her hand against his own calloused flesh. They walked side by side as they led their horses back to the stables, occasionally bumping shoulders and sharing small smiles before they met Tommy and Maria at the gate of the stables. 

“Hey kiddos,” Tommy greeted them both, leaning against the stable door as they filed in one-by-one, “how’d things go?”

Jesse began a review of their patrol, what they saw, what they didn’t see, how many infected they’d taken out, what sort of changes in the landscape they might have noticed, while Maria moved over to help the younger woman unsaddle and brush her horse. He could overhear a few words and giggles from the next stall over where the two women discussed the event taking place later that evening. Finally, she appeared next to Tommy to interrupt his report.

“I gotta head to help set up for tonight, but did you want to just meet at my place and go together? I was gonna go a bit early if that’s okay.”

Jesse’s ears burned at the look of surprise on Tommy’s face, his large brown eyes flickering between the young man and his niece, “Uh, yeah sounds good.”

“Great! See you later, then.”

Maria took her place as she disappeared out of the stables, sharing a look of amusement with her husband as they turned their attention back to the young man before them who seemed to wish he could shrink into the floor beneath him. 

“Something you wanna tell us?” Maria asked with a grin. She was a no nonsense woman for the most part, but she couldn’t help the entertainment she found in the love lives of Jackson’s young people. 

“Uh,” Jesse hesitated, “no. We–uh, we’re just going to the thing tonight.”

Tommy let out a deep chuckle at the discomfort on the younger man’s face, “I see. And I assume you asked Joel’s permission before you asked his daughter to the thing?”

“She asked me,” Jesse argued, “I wasn’t really expecting it.”

“So you’re telling me you only accepted because you didn’t wanna hurt her feelings?” The older man crossed his arms over his chest with mock aggression. 

“No!” Jesse blurted, “I just didn’t know she saw me like that.”

“Mhm,” Tommy hummed, stifling a laugh, “Well I suggest you head over and have a conversation with Joel about this before he finds out through someone else, AKA me.”

Maria swatted his arm, “Give him a break, Tommy. She’s a big girl now, she can take care of herself.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that, I’m looking out for Jesse here. Not sure if he’ll be able to take care of himself if Joel walks into the party tonight and catches this one pawing at his daughter.”

Jesse sputtered in response, his usually cool facade completely broken under the pressure placed by the girl’s uncle, especially now when he considered that the pressure would be applied tenfold when Joel found out that he was now pursuing his daughter. He and Joel had been close ever since he had arrived in Jackson, and especially since he had started hanging out with Ellie, but his relationship with Dina had been famously unstable and he didn’t want Joel to suspect that it might be the same way if Jesse were to start dating his daughter. So, as soon as he was able to escape the clutches of Tommy Miller, he set out in the direction of Joel’s “office”, which was one of the older and uninhabited homes in town that he used as a headquarters for the construction crew he and Tommy had assembled. 

Joel seemed surprised when Jesse began his speel, explaining how he genuinely cared about the girl, and that it may seem soon after their respective breakups but it felt right in the moment, and finally ending it by giving Joel his permission to hurt him if he did anything wrong. Joel was silent for a few beats, watching Jesse through narrowed eyes before he took into a roaring laugh, fist slamming down on the table as he took in the nervous state of the normally confident young man. 

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat as he composed himself, “I can tell you I wasn’t expecting that today.”

“So…” Jesse shifted uncomfortably, “is this a good sign or…”

“Listen,” Joel sighed, “I’ve come to learn that she’s not gonna listen to me when it comes to these things, but I do appreciate this. You’ve already got a step up from that ass-hat Keegan, but that’s not saying much. Oh, and if you hurt her, I’m not gonna be asking permission before I lay hands on you. Understood?”

Jesse gulped, but his nerves began to lessen, “Yes, sir.”

That night, Jesse found himself climbing the front steps to Joel Miller’s house at six-thirty on the dot, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he found his date seated on a patio chair with a book in her lap. She turned her face up to offer him a similar expression as he greeted her, sliding a piece of folded paper between the pages of her book to save her place before setting it aside.

“Hey,” she greeted in return, standing up to meet him halfway, “you’re right on time. You trying to impress me, or something?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged, eyes taking in her patch-work sundress and dark brown boots, “you look nice–pretty, I mean.”

She glanced down at her dress, smiling bashfully, “thanks. Hey, can I ask you something before we go?”

He nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

“Is this a date?” She blurted, wringing her fingers together nervously, “I mean, I didn’t mean for it to be, but then my dad said you came to ask his permission to take me out, and then I realized that I sort of want it to be, but I didn’t want to assume anything because I’m the one who asked you, and–”

Jesse wanted the earth to swallow him whole. This entire time, he’d been shocked but elated that she had asked him out, especially considering that he didn’t think it was likely that he was going to muster up the courage to ask her on his own, only to discover that she had only asked him as friends?

“Oh god,” Jesse groaned, “oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird between us. I just thought, since we were talking about Keegan and Dina and then you asked me that maybe–holy shit, I’m an idiot.”

The girl grasped his forearm tightly, regaining his attention from the physical touch, “No, no, I just… I didn’t know you saw me that way. I do like you, Jesse, I just think I didn’t want to admit it until I knew you liked me too.”

His heart continued to race, only now for an entirely different reason, “Well, I do. A lot.”

She grinned at him, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Well I like you too. A lot.”

The pair stepped closer to one another, his eyes falling to her lips as his cheek burned from the affection. She tilted her face upward, an invitation for him to invade her space even further, which he had no issue in obliging as he dipped down to meet her in a soft, curious kiss. It was only a peck, and then another, and then another before their lips met in a solid, proper embrace, each of them gaining familiarity with one another as his hands slid around her back, bunching in the fabric of her dress as he pulling her even closer, her own running through his silky black hair. 

The sound of a throat being cleared forced them apart, their hands flying off of one another in seconds as they turned to find the source of the noise, finding both Miller brothers at the foot of the stairs, one wearing a deep frown while the other could barely contain his laughter behind a shit-eating grin. 

“Jesse,” Joel grumbled, climbing up the step slowly before he turned to square himself up to the younger man, “glad to see you found your way. Now if you don’t mind taking this off of my porch–and never let me see that again.”

“Dad.”

Joel turned his stern stare to his daughter, raising his eyebrows at her before pressing a kiss to her temple, “I mean it. Don’t need to see this meathead pawing at you all the time.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Joel,” Tommy chortled, “we’ve just gotta get you set up now. Lots of single ladies around Jackson.”

Joel snorted, turning on his heel and entering his home without another word. Leave it to him to flee at the first mention of his dating life. Tommy patted Jesse on the back, pausing to kiss his niece on the head as well before he followed his brother inside with a teasing farewell to the young couple.

They stood there for a moment, each of them bathing in the embarrassment of being caught making out by her father and uncle before she turned back to him, breaking the silence.

“He doesn’t think you’re a meathead, if it’s any consolation. He really likes you.”

“I think that was before I was dating his daughter.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “Do I have a sister I don’t know about?”

“Uh…” Jesse stammered, “not dating, I just meant–”

She laughed, punching him on the arm as she pushed past him and slipped down the steps. She glanced over her shoulder as she called back to him, “I’m messing with you. You don’t gotta ask me anything just yet, but don’t let me catch you looking at other girls.”

Jesse breathed out a laugh. The Miller family would be the death of him, that much he was sure of. He jogged to catch up with her, allowing her to slip her fingers through his own as she dragged him off in the direction of the Tipsy Bison.

Just over an hour later, the bar was filled to the brim, laughter and chatter echoing around the building over the sound of the folk music being played by the small ensemble off to the side. Jesse leaned against the bar, eyes scanning the crowd in search of his date. He’d gotten sucked into helping Seth with loading crates of liquor into the building, reluctantly leaving her side for only twenty minutes and now he had completely lost sight of her in the crowd. 

“Looking for someone?” 

Jesse turned his head to the side, finding his ex-girlfriend leaning onto the bar next to him with a glass of whiskey in her hand, “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “so, are you looking for someone?”

He shrugged, “and what if I am?”

“Then I would like to hear it from you,” she stated, “look, I get it, we’re broken up. Just be honest with me.”

He sighed, but nodded his head as he finally spoke the girl's name, “We’re here together.”

Her eyebrows rose instinctively, but quickly dropped into their natural position, “Can’t say I’m that surprised. I always knew you liked her.”

“Dina,” he groaned, but she cut him off.

“I’m not looking to start anything,” she told him, “at first, I figured we’d get back together, we always do. But, we honestly should have broken up a long time ago. I’ll always care about you, but I’m happy that you’re happy.”

He was surprised by this, considering that his ex-girlfriend had always taken rejection poorly and usually found a way to turn situations in her favour, but she would have had to have been blind to ignore the glaring issues that they had endured in their relationship, “Thanks, Dina. It means a lot. But maybe now that we’re over, you could give Ellie a chance. She’s been into you for as long as I can remember.”

Dina turned her attention to where Ellie was laughing with Maria across the bar, a small smile growing on her lips, “You think so?”

“God, she’s definitely considered killing me just to get to you,” he joked, “don’t rush into it if you’re not ready, but keep it in mind.”

She flushed, nodding her head as she placed her hand over his on the bar for a moment, squeezing it one final time before she pushed away from the bar and headed off in the direction of Ellie, eagerly pulling her away from Maria and onto the dancefloor. 

“What did she want?” 

He turned his gaze back to where Dina had previously stood, finding the narrowed gaze of the girl he’d previously been in search of, “Nothing, she was just asking about you.”

“Really?” She crossed her arms, “That’s it?”

“Why?” He smirked, turning his body to face her, “You jealous?”

She shrugged, “Should I be?”

“No,” he leaned closer, taking her hand in his, “she said she was happy for me, and I told her to go talk to Ellie.”

She glanced over, finding the two smiling girls on the dancefloor as her expression softened, “Oh. Yeah, Els has been mooning over her for years.”

“I know,” he laughed, “just like you have been for me.”

She turned to him with a growing grin on her face, “Oh please, you’re the one who asked my dad for permission to take me to a public function.”

“Oh don’t remind me,” he dropped his forehead to her shoulder to hide his embarrassment, “I thought he was gonna mount my head on his wall.”

“He still might,” she shrugged, “just depends on how long it takes you to get me a drink.”

He stood back to his full height, an easy smile finding its way across his features, “Yes, ma’am.”

After three drinks and a quick trip outside to take advantage of Jesse’s harvest from Eugene’s stash, the pair found themselves twirling around the dancefloor for hours on end before they finally bid their farewells, giggling their way down the torch-lit streets of Jackson hand-in-hand. His heart thrummed in his chest everytime he glanced over at her, already finding her wide, glossy eyes staring up at him as they walked. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked, a soft twinkle in her eyes as she rested her head onto his shoulder. He maneuvered his arm to wrap around her shoulders without ever letting go of her hand, now interlocked and resting against her collarbone. “I’d say we could go to my place, but I think it’s too early on for my dad to catch you sneaking out.”

He laughed as he pivoted their direction to head towards his own lodgings, a small apartment above the seamstress’s place, “Yeah, I’d like to keep my head for a little longer.”

“I would like you to, too.”

Jesse’s apartment was fairly bare, furnished with just the basics, but decorated just enough to make it feel like his. He shared it, of course, with another guy a few years younger than them, but he had yet to return from the party and if things went well with the girl he’d been dancing with all night, Jesse was hopeful that he wouldn’t be back until morning. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Jesse nodded to the small box TV in the corner, then to the small shelf containing a handful of VHS tapes, “choices are limited but I think we have a little bit of everything. I think we even have a chick-flick around here somewhere.”

She nodded silently as he guided her to his room, fishing around for a baggy t-shirt and shorts for her to change into before leaving her to change. He set the movie up, selecting one that was just interesting enough that it was watchable, but just boring enough that neither of them would be opposed to missing out on parts of it. He popped one of the windows near the ratty old couch open, digging out a bag of hastily rolled joints and his trusty lighter, leaning back on the couch as he waited for her to emerge from his room.

She looked cute in his shirt, though he was surprised when his eyes were met with her bare legs up to her thighs, having foregone the shorts that he had set aside for her. She smiled bashfully as she settled into the couch next to him, “The shorts didn’t fit. This is okay, though, I think it covers enough.”

He shrugged, taking a slow drag from the joint, “You look cute in my clothes.”

She snuggled into his side, accepting the joint as he offered it to her and turned her gaze to the TV, “what’d you pick?”

He held the VHS sleeve up, “Dude, Where’s My Car?. It’s alright, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Never heard of it,” she spoke as a puff of smoke escaped her lips, handing the joint back over to him, “but sounds okay to me. At this point I just keep watching Star Wars over and over. We have two of them, and they’re set like twenty years apart so I have no idea what’s actually going on.”

The movie was easily forgotten. At first, they had sat in silence while passing the joint back and forth before dazed conversations took over. She laughed at almost everything he said, snuggling closer and closer until he was entirely reclined against the armrest with her curled into his chest. Her chin rested against his pec as they spoke, giggling at one another as an easy silence took over, their eyes meeting as the mood in the room shifted. 

Her eyes flickered from his down to his round lips, watching in anticipation as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip nervously before she scooched herself forward until she could comfortably press her lips to his. It wasn’t rushed or heated in the beginning, instead falling into a slow, but slightly messy rhythm as her hands came up to take hold of his dark hair while his own slid across the expanse of her back, one settling on the curve of her spine while the other gripped the back of her thigh to hike it further up against his waist. 

She let out a small whine against his lips, pulling away for a moment to focus her attention to trailing her lips across his cheek, over his jaw, and down his neck. A low grumble rolled through his chest at this, her name falling from his lips with a quiet moan.

“We don’t have to–” his hands gripped her waist tighter as he struggled to keep his composure.

She returned to his lips, pressing one more long kiss to them before pulling back with a wicked grin splitting her face.

“Take me to bed, Jesse,” she whispered.

And who was he to deny her?

[chilling-seavey]

The Silver Arrows (gr63 + nr6)

↳ A/N: I am so excited to announce that I have written this fic as part of my first ever participation in a writing fest! Rare Pair Fest gave me the perfect 'excuse' to write the fic that had been marinating in the back of my mind for weeks and although it was hard to keep it under wraps, I can finally reveal it to you all!

↳ Disclaimer: I am so sorry for this Lewis Hamilton/Brocedes erasure just to satisfy my own fantasy…I respect you and all your accomplishments, Lewis, this is just for writing purposes for this one fic, I swear. Additionally, Nico is not married in this specific timeline; I cannot stomach writing him being unfaithful to lovely Vivian.

↳ Written For: @rarepairfest || Read on AO3

↳ Summary: Abu Dhabi 2016 ends with the high of Nico's World Championship win. Out of everyone in the world, only George knows that Nico plans to retire now that he's won the title. On their last night as teammates, they decide to celebrate the end of an era properly.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Teammate Nico Roseberg x F1 Grid Girl (Nameless)

↳ Word Count: 22.6k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, mmf threesome, George is bi-curious (with arguably internalized homophobia) and his teammate helps him explore, oral sex (m and f receiving), nipple play, spanking, dirty talk, very minor degradation ("slut"), begging, rimming, anal fingering, cum play, anal sex, vaginal sex, George cries from pleasure, use of condoms.

The grid at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix was buzzing with excitement for the last race of the 2016 season. Twenty-two cars were lined up in their grid boxes with mechanics and team members fluttering around them, working between the plethora of lucky fans who weaved their way through, donning VIP passes around their necks. The busiest section of the grid, unsurprisingly, was the front row, where two silver Mercedes W07s were lined up and prepped to perfection. 

The Mercedes Formula 1 team was a force to be reckoned with ever since they took the Constructors title from Red Bull’s domination two years earlier. Since then, Mercedes had been at the top of their game in car after car that was virtually unbeatable. The engineering of such a beast was the talk of the sport but their impressive driver lineup was partially to thank too; without skilled drivers, their car wouldn’t be half as impressive to watch. 

Nico Rosberg, just thirty-one years of age and starting from the second spot on the grid at the aforementioned Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, had been Mercedes’ pride and joy for six years. Despite consistently being a top contender during Mercedes’ dominant era in the last two years, he had always fallen just short of claiming the coveted World Champion title, narrowly outpaced by the likes of Sebastian Vettel and Daniel Ricciardo, respectfully. Heading into the final race of 2016, however, Nico held a narrow twelve-point lead in the Drivers’ Championship. Everything was on the line.

The driver breathing down his neck in the standings was none other than his teammate, George Russell. At twenty-six, George’s journey in Formula 1 had begun modestly with Williams, where he honed his skills and captured the eye of Mercedes who soon scouted him as their second driver. He joined the elite team just as they began their first season of success—a success many credited to George’s arrival. Though he had yet to claim a World Title, he was just twelve points shy of his teammate in the lead. What he wouldn’t give to beat his more experienced counterpart and snatch that Championship trophy before him. 

There was no doubt that Nico and George were incredible teammates; arguably a pairing of an era. Both were fierce and strongly skilled competitors on the track but also got along incredibly well off track. Nico took George under his wing from the beginning, sharing in their history at Williams and helping to mould the development of their beloved Mercedes together. They were friendly with each other but, like the mindset of every Formula 1 racing driver, once they were in the car, it was every man for himself. 

George stood outside his car, his focused gaze lingering on the bold red ‘6’ on his teammate’s car a few paces back from his as he fastened up his white race suit and made sure the wires and cords were in place. Nico was already in the car as the second passed towards the race start, helmet on and speaking to one of his mechanics who was leaning over the car into the cockpit. Tearing his eyes away with dire need to focus on his own race, George pulled up the headband from around his neck to secure it around the crown of his head to keep his hair out of his face, before taking his balaclava from the team member beside him. 

Then, he was glancing at the young woman standing in front of his car, donning a purple dress and red beret, her gaze almost distant. He gave her a discreet once over before speaking to her, his words unintelligible. 

She hadn’t anticipated being spoken to, especially not over the roar of the machinery and the twenty-two cars being started up, and so she leaned in a little towards him, “Sorry?”

George leaned in too with a small smile, speaking a little louder, “I said, your feet must hurt in those shoes.”

She glanced down at her ridiculously high heels then back up at him with a smile of her own, “It’s okay. I can lean my weight on this.”

She lifted the long metal dowel she had been holding onto, the sign secured at the top and reading RUSSELL 63 in bold type. The job of a grid girl wasn’t difficult (and arguably not important, either, in the grand scheme of things) but it paid sufficient money and she silently deemed herself quite lucky to have been assigned to the young and handsome George Russell for the season; always the one to be holding his sign in front of his car before every race. 

Most of the grid girls weren’t acknowledged by their drivers and they were all strictly told to not speak unless spoken to so their shifts of standing and holding a sign were quite tiresome. George, however, always at least said hello to his assigned grid girl and, the odd time, shared a brief, surface level conversation. He was humble and kind and it always made her feel welcome in a grid riddled with men, or so he had hoped.

George pulled his helmet on over his balaclava and then climbed into his car, donned with the number 63 in brilliant sky blue against the silver livery. His team helped him get situated, hurrying to make sure everything was in order as the seconds ticked by. The crews started to move off the grid and that meant so did the grid girls. George was already intensely focused in his car so he didn’t even notice her slip away with her sign. She was used to it, going about undetected. It was her job to stand there quietly, after all, not to be his friend.

The grid girls made their way through the empty pitlane and into the large building that divided the circuit from the paddock. A perk of the job was getting to watch the races from the private Formula 1 VIP balcony and there, the girls gathered just as the formation lap came to an end. Twenty-two cars lined back up in their grid boxes to await the green flag at, subsequently, the illumination of the five red lights. 

The engines rumbled from the cars, waiting patiently as the lights turned on slowly, one by one. George’s hands tightened on his wheel, staring up at them through his visor with nothing on his mind but to drive. Everything else fell away once he got in that car. He had a one track mind. 

The five lights went out and he slammed his foot down on the throttle, tearing off from the first place line ahead of his counterparts and keeping his place. He cut into the first corner, keeping back his teammate with practiced ease and staying firmly in first. George let out a breath. Inhale, exhale. He just had to bring it home.

George drove a brilliant race; keeping his lead through all fifty-five laps without a single mistake. He knew it was yet another flawless race to add to his ever growing collection—another trophy to make room for on his shelf—but he knew it wasn’t enough. No matter how great of a race he achieved that day, his World Championship rested on the faults of his teammate. And his teammate was virtually faultless. 

George led Nico past the checkered flag, ahead by only half of a second. As the two Mercedes crossed the line, fireworks erupted above the Yas Marina Circuit, bringing them home beneath sparks of pyrotechnics. As George slowed into his cool down lap, all he could hear was the roar of his car and the raggedness of his breathing, grounded by his racing heart thudding in his ears and an evil pit of disappointment churning in his stomach. 

On his left, the identical car of his teammate met his pace and George raised a gloved hand out of his cockpit in a congratulatory thumbs up. Nico offered the same sentiment in return; and his hand was almost quivering with adrenaline. Just as Max Verstappen’s Red Bull and Sebastian Vettel’s Ferrari pulled up on either side of Nico for their own congratulations, George looked back to the road ahead to bring his car safely back to the team.

The radio in his earpiece crackled to life and his engineer spoke to him, “Amazing drive, amazing season, George. We’ll get ‘em next year.”

George pressed the button on his steering wheel to reply, keeping his answer polite and genuine and as void of the storm of emotions within him, “Yep. Thanks, guys. The whole team…everyone at the factory…everyone watching at home. What a season. Congrats to Nico. Onto 2017.”

Once parked in parc ferme, George went about the routine of getting out of his car without much thought. His mind felt like it was full of static, a jumble of emotions that he couldn’t quite work out in his hazy mixture of adrenaline and disappointment. On the other side of the pitwall, he could hear the roar of Nico’s Mercedes doing celebratory burnouts on the straight, clouds of smoke of burnt rubber rising from the asphalt and into the night sky. 

George greeted his team over the metal fences, sharing hugs and pats in congratulations on his most impressive season to date. George knew he drove an impressive season and he knew Nico was just slightly better, but it didn’t make the sting of watching his dream slip through his fingers yet again any easier. 

It was a blur for Nico, too, in his own way as he shared hugs of camaraderie with a few of his fellow drivers who came to congratulate him, barely recognizing who was who with how intense everything felt in that moment. Despite his internal battle as the pain of being runner-up settled uncomfortably in his heart, George met his teammate in the middle of parc ferme and gave him a congratulatory embrace, giving him a pat on the back and to his helmet. Through Nico’s open visor, George could see the crinkles by his eyes with how big he was smiling.

George headed into the FIA building and up the stairs to the cooldown room, his helmet and gloves in hand. The hallway was lined with the grid girls in their matching outfits and ridiculous heels, applauding for the top three, and he passed by them without another glance, still far too in his mind to think of manners at that moment. But, when he walked by that one familiar face just before reaching the door, she sent him a smile more genuine than the plastered on ones her counterparts wore. He smiled faintly at her in return and slipped into the cooldown room. 

He set his sky blue helmet and matching gloves on the P1 pedestal and took the water bottle instead, unscrewing the gap and taking a lengthy sip to cool (and calm) down. Sebastian was already in there and he drifted over to George for a pat on the shoulder and a congratulations on his win and successful season. George tried to accept it with a smile but even he knew it must have fallen a little flat. In return, the well-versed five-time Champion offered him some brief words of wisdom that were drowned out by the influx of cheering coming from the hallway.

Nico came nearly bounding into the room, still donning his helmet and knee pads, embracing team members as he went. Lingering to the side with his water bottle, George watched as Nico took off his helmet and balaclava and set it aside to finally breathe, his blonde hair matted across his forehead and sticking up in all directions with sweat. George was sure his hair was no better and he turned back to the pedestal to take his Pirelli 1st Place Cap and put it on. 

From behind him, Nico’s hands rested on his shoulders, giving him a little excitable shake to grab his attention. George turned around and Nico’s infectious smile had George’s bitter edge softening a little and he found his own lips turning up in the corners. Then, behind the explosions of fireworks and the noise of celebration muted through the windows of the cooldown room and the lively chatter from the hallway, Nico spoke in a lowered voice meant just for him, “Couldn’t have done it without you. Next year; yours.”

The honesty in Nico’s words hit him straight in the chest and George just stood there for a moment as his elder teammate—and, in the same breath, his mentor—gave him another pat on the shoulder. George stood and watched him for just a moment as he drifted away to speak with someone else, letting the meaning behind his statement settle on his conscience. Out of everyone in that room and, really, everyone in the world, only George knew the secret that Nico carried. 

He was going to retire. 

He confided in George that the season he won his World Championship would be the season he would announce his retirement from Formula 1.

With the adrenaline from the race diminishing and the reminder of how much George had accomplished under Nico’s wing, his momentary jealousy fell to pieces at his feet. Nico had meant so much to him over his career; even from his awkward beginnings at Williams and Mercedes Juniors…it had always been Nico who helped to mold him into the record breaking racer he was that day. To think they had just raced their last race together suddenly felt incredibly solemn. 

George’s feet carried him across the room to where Nico and Sebastian were talking animatedly, sharing in their joy and excitement. The sight of him had Nico slinging an arm around his shoulders—having to raise up on his toes slightly to do so, however—and pulled his younger, lanky teammate closer, contorting him into a weird hunch. 

“You’re a good rival, Georgie.” Nico teased lightheartedly. “Giving me grey hairs early and everything.”

Sebastian smiled between the two in their matching white and teal race suits as he sipped his water.

“Some might say I learned from the best but I’d have no clue who they’d mean.” George shrugged sarcastically, earning him Nico’s fist rubbing playfully at the top of his head. George slunk out from under his arm and gave his shoulder a shove, the two of them sharing lingering grins. 

The post-race interviews and podium celebration went by in a blur for George. He hardly recalled lifting his first place trophy in the air or speaking to Coulthard about his feelings on the race and the season in front of the crowds, but, if nothing else, the shower of sparkling cider that was sprayed in his face by the hands of his teammate snapped him back into it. It would be their last podium shared and George was determined to make the most of it; drenching Nico in sticky expensive bubbly.

He and Sebastian shared the responsibility of pouring the remainder of their bottles into Nico’s mouth, the newest World Champion tilting his head back to catch the bubbling streams of liquid until it was cascading down his chin and his neck and soaking his race suit even more. George tried not to stare, not wanting the cameras to pick up on the fact that he was trying not to engrave the sight in his mind.

And then it was done. Trophies were carried off the podium and empty bottles were passed aside and media duties down in the paddock were completed routinely. George went through the motions like any other race despite the fact that he kept finding himself nearly glued to Nico’s side like he was his damn trophy-wife. He didn’t mean to look so pathetic, trailing alongside his World Champion teammate—whom he had four inches on; making his shadowing all the more ridiculous looking—through their post-race routines, but Nico didn’t bat an eye. He always liked George and was more than happy to accept his company on what only they knew would be their last race together. George was special to him.

They shared the excitement in the Mercedes garage where the team was spraying more champagne and hugs were going around from person to person. Even George got his fair share of hugs for a successful season and, of course, for helping achieve yet another Constructors Championship for Mercedes. Amongst all the chaos, George ended up in the striking quiet of the paddock out the back of the garage for a moment to breathe, leaving Nico to his conversations with nosy news outlets shoving microphones in his face. 

George’s ears were ringing a little from the noise of the evening from the screaming of the crowds and the explosions of the fireworks, most of the paddock having either gone home or were busy in their associated garages to pack up from the end of the season. He rested back against the wall and took a cleansing breath, staring up into the inky night sky above Abu Dhabi and the waving palm branches along the strip. 

The sound of a door opening had him turning his head to the side, watching as a group of grid girls came walking out of the building, back in their street clothes and chatting together. He stayed where he was, illuminated by the lights along the back of the Mercedes building, his eyes lingering on the one familiar presence amongst the small crowd. As if sensing his stare, she met his gaze and they shared a small smile. George cocked his head to call her over. 

She parted ways with her colleagues, sharing end-of-season hugs and promising to stay in touch, and as they headed for the exit of the paddock, she made her way over to George. She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder, falling to a stop in front of him.

“Hey,” George pushed himself away from the wall a little to stand in front of her. 

“Hey, race winner.” she smiled fondly, her voice a warm polite drawl. 

George shrugged, “Race winner is nothing compared to what I could have had today.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” she tutted, “Five points difference is almost entirely unheard of; you’re an incredibly impressive racer. This season was no more than a matter of chance at the end of it, really. Next year I’m sure you got him.” 

“Yeah, well…” George faded out. His mind went back to the fact that he would have a new teammate next year, no longer sharing the highs and lows with Nico. It wasn’t his news to share and yet he really desperately wanted to tell her; to tell someone. 

There was a pause between them. 

George changed the subject slightly, “Are you coming back for next season?”

“Yeah, I hope so.” she replied, “Will you put in a good word for me?”

“You know I will.” George smiled honestly, his big blue eyes lingering on her. He added a flirty, “I want first choice for the most beautiful girl on the grid after all.”

“Oh really?” she flushed modestly, playing it off with a light tut. 

“Yeah, really.” answered George with ease, “I think it’d look entirely wrong to have you out there holding any other driver’s number other than mine.”

“All I’m hearing is confirmation of the rumour that Formula 1 drivers are selfish.” she teased with a playful smile. 

George laughed out loud, a warm, genuine sound that filled the night air in their momentary privacy. He was still in his racesuit and damp from champagne, his 1st place Pirelli cap still on his head and hiding his mess of cider-drenched hair. In the artificial illumination of the paddock under the night sky, he almost glistened, and the slight flush of his cheeks appeared extra rosy against his fair skin. 

His brief laughter at her tease faded and the two of them just stared at each other a moment, as if memorizing one another. It wasn’t new, him staring at her. Most of the time he only really saw her when he was busy preparing for a race and she was stationed at the front of his car with his sign, but, in the odd times where nothing else held his attention, he always enjoyed staring at her. The fact that she always stared right back was almost thrilling, sending his heart doing somersaults in his chest. 

After a moment, she broke their shared silence first, “Winter break is going to be painfully long.”

George’s lips turned up a little at the corners, as if easily understanding the underlying meaning behind her statement and sharing in its sentiment, “Incredibly so.” 

“You know—” she started. 

At the same time, George spoke too, “I wasn’t sure if—”

The two of them shared soft laughter at the synchronization and then she gestured to him to speak first. 

“I was just going to say,” George cleared his throat, staring into her eyes like he always did when he spoke to someone, “I wasn’t sure if you’re living in the Monaco area but I wouldn’t mind maybe grabbing a coffee or something together over the break?”

Her eyes widened at his offer, taking by slight surprise, “Oh. I mean…yeah. Yeah, that’d be really nice.”

George’s face relaxed, “Yeah?”

Just then, the back door opened and out came Nico, surprisingly alone. He let out a heavy breath and stalked over to the pair of them, clapping his hand to George’s shoulder with that smile that hadn’t seemed to leave his face since the checkered flag. 

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” he greeted.

George offered him a polite smile, hiding the slight swell in his heart at the sight of his beloved teammate, “Nothing. Just chatting.”

Nico glanced between you both and then sent George a pointed glance, “Just chatting? You’ve got a beautiful girl in front of you and you’re just talking about, what, the weather?”

“No,” she cut in with a casual statement, all without taking your eyes off George in front of her, even as Nico glanced your way, “he’s been a pretty good flirt too.”

Nico’s face contorted into an expression of amused pride and he looked back at his teammate, giving George’s shoulder a squeeze, “Oh, really now?”

George let out a breathy chuckle, pushing a hand through his hair, “I wouldn’t say flirting. Just...friendly conversation.”

“Friendly, huh?” Nico teased, his grin widening, tightening his hand on George’s shoulder, “Well, I’ve seen your every-day version of friendly, and let me just say, it’s not half as charming as what I just walked in on.”

She laughed softly, the warm atmosphere between the three of them feeling effortless, “He is always incredibly charming.”

“I should have known you’d be good at this, Georgie.” Nico badgered with a voice thick with friendly teasing, “Always a smooth talker when it counts.”

George chuckled softly, his smile returning to its usual confident charm without taking his eyes off the young woman in front of them, “I dunno, I’m still trying to figure out just how to properly impress her.”

Nico smirked, leaning in just a little closer to his counterpart with his hand squeezing his shoulder, his voice dropping to a lower, almost conspiratorial tone, “Well, you might want to do more than talk. You know, it’s the actions that really do it.”

She couldn’t help the slightly nervous laugh that slipped from her lips at what the older man was implying; her hand raising to cover her mouth and she turned her face away to hide her amusement. George was thankful that at least that way she would not have to face the crimson that was inching across his cheeks at the same time. Nico only grinned and gave George’s shoulder a jostle. 

Then, he was speaking, “Right, so what do you two say we keep this little party going? I was thinking about having a little private celebration back at my apartment if you both would be interested. I’m flying back to Monaco tonight and you’re welcome to join me. Celebrate the right way, yeah? Just us. What do you think?”

George exchanged a quick glance with her, a shared look of intrigue and curiosity. His heart leapt into his throat: a private celebration…just them. When he didn’t see any hints of doubt on her face, he turned back to Nico with a slight nod, “That sounds good.”

“Great,” Nico said with that handsome smile of his, “I have to wrap up some things here but let’s meet at the hangar at 10:00.”

“10 is good.” George nodded in agreement. 

“‘Sounds good’, ‘ten is good’; everything is good to you tonight.” Nico laughed teasingly, far too excitable to have much of a filter, and gave George’s bicep a squeeze as he stepped away. “See you then.”

As Nico disappeared inside, George turned to her with a soft smile, his voice quieter now, trying not to let the hints of trepidation appear, “Well, looks like we’re in for an interesting night.”

She smiled back and George could have sworn he saw a sparkle in her eye as she replied, “I’d say so.”

George was definitely not a virgin, he would have that known, thank you. He had a handful of girlfriends in his twenty-six years and plenty of blurry one-night stands or the odd repeat no-strings-attached connection—the joys that came with a Formula 1 career, really—and he prided himself on his well-trained collection of sexual experiences over the last decade. Sure, the beginning few were memories he kept locked away but he had definitely grown and, not to be cocky or anything, but he was sure his recent few partners in passing would gladly speak to his skills. 

Despite the double-digit body count he held in his back pocket, sitting in Nico Rosberg’s Monaco penthouse that Monday night, George suddenly felt incredibly inexperienced. He had shared his teammate’s private jet back to the Principality, went home just long enough for a quick sleep and shower and shave, before finding himself sitting on the expensive white sofa in the living room. 

Nico was across the room, pouring drinks at the silver bar cart, still buzzing off of his day-old Championship win and talking excitedly about this or that, his voice almost echoing in the spacious apartment. George bit his tongue from reminding him that technically he wasn’t World Champion until the formal awards’ ceremony in a fortnight; who was he to deny his comrade his excitement after he had been so kind and taken him under his wing for years.

On George’s right, his grid girl was sitting beside him in a modest floral dress with her hair done and a light face of makeup, resting on the couch where his arm was draped over the back. He could smell her perfume with how close she was and he kept catching himself glancing between her and Nico like he didn’t know where to look. She was listening politely to Nico’s ramblings, pitching into conversation where she could and seeming to fit in just fine with the two of them. George might have been a bit in awe of her for that. 

It wasn’t unheard of for some of the grid girls to be invited to parties with the drivers and even to spark up hushed relationships with them here and there. Some of her colleagues spoke in whispers about their own thrilling one-night-only stories that had her sworn to secrecy; so once she found herself sitting in the multi-million euro penthouse with not one but both handsome Mercedes drivers, she felt a little out of her depth.

Naturally, she shifted a little closer to George’s side, marginally so. He noticed, stealing a glance her way, and his arm around the back of the couch dropped a little closer, just enough to brush his fingertips over her shoulder and the light fabric of her dress. He hadn’t realized how captivating her profile was until then, really taking a moment to stare at her in the cozy light of the living room and the orange-hues of the setting sun over the skyline.

Nico, finally finishing pouring the drinks, flashed a cheeky grin as he turned back toward the two of them with the three crystal glasses balanced in his hands, “Alright, I’m thinking we all need to toast to this incredible season.”

He came over to the couch and she and George took their glasses from him with soft thanks. Nico then sat on George’s other side, sandwiching him between them both, thighs touching. George scuffed the toe of his socked foot along the hardwood chevron floor as he shifted in place and raised his hand to meet in the middle to clink glasses. 

From his left, Nico announced, “To two championship wins, being the best damn team in the sport for the third year running, and to George carrying on the Mercedes domination for years to come.”

George could feel the young woman’s eyes glancing between them at that last sentiment but no one spoke to it. Instead, they shared fleeting notes of agreement and clinked their crystal glasses together before taking a sip of their drinks. The momentary silence stretched on for a moment before Nico leaned forward, setting his glass down on the coffee table with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You know,” he began, his voice laced with amusement, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen George this quiet in my life.”

The young woman laughed softly, glancing at George, “Really? He seems pretty comfortable to me.”

Nico smirked and lounged back on the couch himself alongside them both, “Oh, he’s comfortable, alright. Too comfortable, if you ask me. Georgie here normally never shuts up. He only gets like this when he’s got something—or someone—on his mind.”

George groaned, already feeling the heat in his cheeks, “Blimey, mate, do you ever stop?”

“Not when I’m right,” Nico shot back, winking past him to the woman on his other side, sharing in the moment of playful banter, “and judging by the way you’ve been sitting so close to her since the second you sat down, I’d say I’m right on the money.”

Where others might have been passive in the private company of two Formula 1 drivers, this young woman refused to back down, meeting Nico’s teasing gaze with a smirk of her own, “Maybe he’s quiet because you haven’t allowed him a word in otherwise since we got here.”

“Oh, she’s quick,” Nico declared with a playful grimace and a playful scoff. 

George shook his head at his ridiculousness, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. He could feel his heart beating hard in his chest and with another sip of his liquid courage, he wanted to see just how much he could push this. So he turned to the woman on his right, his voice quieter but no less playful, “I think he’s just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nico echoed, feigning offense, “I don’t get jealous…I have no need to get jealous. I’m just...invested in my teammate’s happiness, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied effortlessly, taking another sip of your drink, “and how exactly do you plan to ensure his happiness?”

Nico leaned back in his spot, his smirk taking on a more wicked edge, “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.”

She leaned in, prying a little further, “Perhaps ideas that tie into your toast of ‘George carrying on the Mercedes domination’?”

George and Nico exchanged glances as if debating if they were going to bring up the secret that only they knew. George knew it wasn’t his place to speak so he let the silence linger for only Nico to fill it how he saw fit. Finally, after a beat, Nico’s eyes softened under the lingering stare of his younger teammate and he looked back over at her. 

“Well,” he began with a breath, his voice steady but tinged with gravity, “between us three here, I’ve made a decision. After the awards ceremony this year, I’m retiring. I won’t be back in Formula 1 next season.”

George’s eyes flickered to the young woman to gauge her reaction, watching how her eyebrows raised and her mouth fell open slightly. She blinked once, twice, and then, “Oh. Wow. That’s…a big decision.”

Nico chuckled warmly and clapped a hand on George’s shoulder proudly, “Yeah. I’ll be passing the reins on to my very capable mentee here. So, I thought tonight could be a celebration of sorts—of everything we’ve accomplished together and our final season as teammates. One last hurrah.”

“That’s...huge,” she said finally, leaning back slightly as if giving the moment the space it deserved, “I mean, congratulations, of course, but it’s hard to imagine Formula 1 without you, Nico.”

“Yes, it will be an adjustment but it feels right.” Nico shrugged, glancing back at George who was already staring at him unwaveringly, big blue eyes almost unblinking. Nico was used to his teammate’s intense gaze, and he reached over to gently nudge George’s cheek with a friendly smile, trying to bring the mood back to where it had been. “Enough of the heavy stuff now. How about this celebration?”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” George asked, trying to keep his voice at an even tone so as to not expose the anticipation of the unknown that was bubbling up inside him. 

“Well,” Nico reached forward to pick up his glass again, always such an expert at playing it cool, “I was thinking we could move somewhere a bit more comfortable…a little bit more intimate to kick this up a notch. What do we think?”

George’s mind raced as the unspoken invitation settled over them. His heart warred with itself—one part of him burning with curiosity and a longing he hadn’t dared name, and the other whispering that this wasn’t who he was. At least, not who he thought he was supposed to be. He glanced at the woman with them to gauge her reaction, surprised to see the intrigued smile on her face and the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Without a word she nodded in agreement and then met George’s gaze to hear his thoughts. 

Now both she and Nico were looking at him expectantly, and George didn’t know what to do. He had wanted to take her out properly first—have a real date, ease into something meaningful—before suddenly jumping into bed with her. And for a threeway at that. Yet the thrill it held, the lack of barriers or awkward first-date conversations, was tempting.

And then there was Nico.

George’s gaze flickered to his mentor, his friend, the man who had guided him through the ranks of Formula 1. Nico was everything George had aspired to be—brilliant, charismatic, unshakably confident. George had admired him since his awkward, gangly teenage years, staring up at the podium where Nico stood as the rising star. He couldn’t deny that he always knew Nico was attractive but he never let himself think anything more of that; their shared ice baths or training sessions were simply professional and he was very good at putting things out of his head when he needed to. 

Oh, God, he had truly pushed so much out of his mind over the years: so much he didn’t want to burden Nico with—hell, burden himself with. Now, George was trapped between a beautiful woman and a gorgeous man with the offer of exploring more without complications or judgment dangling right in front of him. Was he really considering this? 

For a fleeting second, his old instincts kicked in, the ones that had always whispered to him to stay safe, stay predictable. But then Nico smiled at him—warm and encouraging—and the last of his resistance unraveled. He knew he’d be absolutely stupid to decline. Besides, deep down he must have been prepared for this offer in some way based on how thoroughly he showered before coming over. 

Fuck it.

The plush king size bed sank dreamily under George’s weight as he settled on the edge of the mattress. His eyes followed Nico’s movements as his mentor set his half-empty crystal glass on the nightstand with a dull clink, his navy button up already unbuttoned twice from the top. George wasn’t sure when he had done that but, regardless, now he found his eyes lingering on the pale triangle of exposed skin beneath the jewel toned fabric of his shirt. 

He was torn from his thoughts by a gentle hand on his shoulder and, from behind him, his gorgeous grid girl leaned in to press a fleeting kiss to his cheek. She gave his shoulder a squeeze as she settled in place on the bed beside him, draping herself against his body and nosing at his earlobe. From only the fleeting touches but with the promise of more dangling in the weighted tension in the room, George could feel his cock twitch in his slacks in anticipation. 

Nico finished their trio on the girl’s other side, the two men eyeing her up as she settled between them. Almost like he were an experienced pro in more than just motorsports, Nico’s hand gravitated to her thigh and just up under the hem of her floral dress. George’s eyes were locked on the subtle movement, watching the way goosebumps rose over her smooth skin under the ghostly touch of Nico’s slender fingers. Nothing had even happened yet and George was already feeling his heart racing hard in his chest. 

“You look so nervous, George.”

Nico’s sudden statement had George’s attention snapping up from the girl’s lap to his teammate’s smirking face. He was sure he looked a mess, flushed cheeks and all. It was getting harder to hide the intrigue that he was once so good at pushing to the back of his mind. 

“First threesome?”

George chucked faintly, trying to brush off the hints of uncertainty and anticipation brewing inside him without showing just how much out of his depth he really was, “Something like that.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Nico promised in a breath, his voice warm and low and comforting. 

His hand slid farther along the inside of the beautiful woman’s thigh and her attention was drawn to him, pulled in by his alluring presence that even George couldn’t fault her for. Nico was, in all senses of the term, completely captivating. The woman between them was no less than beautiful herself and George had accepted that realization since the first few races of the season when she was assigned as his Grid Girl. Now, looking between them as the two beautiful figures stared at each other with a shared tension of desire blossoming between them, George didn’t know who to focus on more. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to grapple with that decision for long because they both then leaned in to share a tentative kiss between them. George’s heart leapt into his throat, watching as she and Nico eased into lingering kisses that filled the quiet bedroom with the soft sounds of their lips meeting and parting. With an instinctual lick to his lips, George watched the connection of their mouths and the lock of their lips, how they moved together like some effortless dance. 

Her laugh was sweet and low against his lips and George could see Nico smile into it as his hand raised to cradle the side of her face. They were a vision George couldn’t look away from, taking in every atom of their connection like he wanted them engraved in his brain so he could still see them when he closed his eyes. He caught himself lingering on Nico’s profile a little longer, taking in the flex of his jaw and the lines of his face as he kissed the beautiful woman in front of him. In his hazy mind, George wasn��t sure if he wanted to be Nico or be the one he was kissing like that. 

Forcing the thought aside, George shuffled a little closer to the pair and let his hand rest against her thigh, gently caressing just beneath the hem of her dress. Despite the uncertainty of the situation, George had gone through the rhythms before; well versed in touching and pleasuring women. The goosebumps that rose over her thigh as his fingers played with her skin were a hint of proof and the way her breath hitched as his fingers slid farther along her inner thigh sealed the confirmation. 

She pulled away from Nico’s lips and turned her head towards George, easily taking him in for a just as needy kiss. George groaned lowly as he met her pace, eyes fluttering shut to melt into it as he tasted her mouth for the first time after a season of dreaming about it. Perhaps, if he was delusional enough, he would claim he tasted Nico’s mouth on her tongue. Maybe that’s just what he told himself. 

With the ever-present awareness that Nico was watching them, George put on his best efforts, helping himself to her mouth with his tongue until she was whining into his sloppy kiss. Nico’s hands slid around her back and unzipped her dress and, without breaking away from George, she let the floral fabric fall down her arms. 

She wasn’t wearing a bra and almost immediately, the older man’s greedy hand went right to her chest, pinching one of her hardening nipples between thumb and forefinger. Nico had a sly grin over his handsome face, watching the way her skin pebbled under his touch before he was dipping down to take her nipple in his mouth. 

She broke away from George with a sweet smile and a little gasp, leaning back onto her hands to stare down at the way he sucked on her breast and slicked her up in his spit. George watched his teammate’s mouth work on her just as intently while his hand tugged at the  bunched up fabric of her dress around her waist to encourage her to lift her hips so he could take it off of her. She complied obediently and the dress was discarded to the floor. 

The rustling of sheets, of clothes, the panting of breaths, and the landing of wet kisses over slowly exposed skin; the bedroom was a flurry of rising passion. The trio ended up moving more to the centre of the bed, the woman’s lips being shared between the two men as they stripped down until the three were only left in their underwear. She was framed by two handsome, well built, athletic men, urging her hands to touch all over them, wherever she could reach. Despite her attention, George’s eyes kept flicking over her to Nico.

He looked so casual like he had been doing things like this all his life, busy tending to the beautiful woman between them with his lips on her neck and making her expression fall into withering pleasure with ease. George took his hand from between her legs, fingertips faintly slick from the dampness that saturated her panties, and, in a fit of bravery, reached his hand out to rest on Nico’s bare knee. The man didn’t even flinch, still licking and sucking at the woman’s neck. 

George slid his hand up higher, feeling the faint hair and firm muscle of Nico’s thigh under his damp fingertips. He caressed his skin slowly, timidly, testing the waters and the limits. He felt so wrong for doing that, as if at any moment, his teammate was going to pull away from his ministrations and tell him off. But he didn’t. In fact, George could have sworn he saw him spread his legs a little wider on the bed to permit him closer. 

The gorgeous woman giggled, watching George’s hesitation. With a brave hand, she took his wrist and pulled his hand across her lap and right to the front of Nico’s snug briefs. George nearly choked on his spit, eyes bulging out of his head as he stared at his hand on Nico’s crotch. He could feel the shape of his dick through his briefs, the warmth of him, the thickness. 

George swallowed, trying not to think about the fact that he was nearly salivating.  

“Is he hard already?” she asked in a purr, interrupting his short-circuiting mind as she pushed her hand through his hair. 

George licked his lips, watching his hand timidly rub the obvious bulge beneath the thin fabric, barely managing out a, “Yeah…getting there.”

Nico pulled away from her neck with a playful smile, directing to the group, “We’re getting nice and acquainted now, aren’t we?” 

His eyes were on George’s next, a storm in his irises that had the younger teammate’s stomach flipping with unspoken anticipation, and his smile still ever present on his face. Nico licked and bit his kiss-swollen lips as George palmed him warmly over his underwear, letting out a small hum of approval at the friction. George pressed his hand down a little harder, feeling the way Nico’s cock twitched and his hips bucked up ever so slightly against his touch. His lips parted in near awe. 

The woman’s dainty fingers pushed through George’s hair again and scratched gently at the nape of his neck, pulling a small groan from his throat, his eyelids fluttering dreamily. He felt like he was dreaming; a wonderful, pinch-yourself kind of dream…and nothing that noteworthy had even happened yet. Then suddenly, he wasn’t quite sure who exactly made the first move, but Nico’s underwear was coming off and he was settling himself back against the upholstered headboard entirely nude.

Nico’s dick was impressively average. The thought had George almost laughing out loud with the irony of it all; Nico Rosberg, Mercedes’ Golden Boy, Formula 1 World Drivers’ Champion, a man larger than life itself, had a perfectly standard cock. Oh, how to humanize the man he had put on a pedestal for so long. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that and, even still, George found himself craving him more than ever. It was getting harder to push those thoughts to the back of his brain and hide them under forgotten memories. 

George watched as the girl crawled her way up Nico’s outstretched legs and leaned over him for a sloppy kiss. Her lacy hot pink thong was nestled between her cheeks and George’s eyes lingered on the curve of her ass and the flesh of her hips and the slight arch of her back. His hand reached out to drag down her spine, feeling each soft bump of her vertebrae until he reached her tailbone and then caressed his warm palm over the shape of her ass. She pulled away from Nico’s lips and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she glanced back at George, giving him a sly smile and a little wiggle.

“You can spank it, if you want.” she told him. 

Nico’s fingers threaded through her free flowing hair to brush it out of her face absentmindedly, his attention drawn back to George who lifted his hand just enough to drop it back down against her ass with a sharp smack. Her soft gasp was almost erotic in itself and George let himself squeeze the blushing flesh of her ass in his greedy hand. Then, without another word, she was moving down Nico’s body, kissing down his chest and faint abs and settling herself between his legs. 

“Perhaps we should start off with our World Champion?” she purred.

George tried to ignore how that simple sentence sent a plethora of emotions through his mind and heart—a reminder he wasn’t World Champion and a reminder that he wasn’t either giving or receiving. Perhaps he would do well with some watching to start off. 

So, George shifted forward on the bed for a better view as she teased her tongue along the length of Nico’s dick all while her siren eyes stared up at him. She took him in one hand, helping to smear the tip against her spitty lips before finally taking the head in her mouth. Nico sucked in a tight breath at the sensation and George’s eyes flicked up to him for a moment, watching how his face contorted in a pleasured furrow as he stared down at the woman between his legs. 

She hummed pleasantly as if she was thoroughly enjoying herself and her free hand reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Almost by instinct, George reached forward and gently brushed her hair back from her face and held it in a messy makeshift ponytail for her so she could more easily start to sink her mouth lower on his teammate’s cock. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her lips wrapped around his girth, the slight stretch of her jaw to accommodate him, the dampness that lingered behind from her mouth on every up-stroke. 

Just then in a voice far too complacent for the circumstance, Nico cocked his head at George, “Come up here, mate. The view is incredible.”

George tried to ignore how the ‘mate’ made him feel a little funny and, instead, he gently let go of her hair and shifted farther up the bed to join Nico back against the headboard. From that angle, almost shoulder to shoulder with him, he could see directly down his naked body to where the woman was sucking pleasantly on his cock. George was entranced for a moment, watching her pretty face nestle itself lower and lower towards his teammate’s pelvis, taking more and more of him as her mouth made the filthiest sounds. 

“Such a good girl,” Nico praised lowly, his voice thick with pleasure, while his hands took over in her hair to hold it back from her face himself, guiding her into her steady motions.

George tore his eyes away from the woman to glance to his right where his teammate was resting comfortably against down-filled pillows and the upholstered headboard. Nico’s eyes were heavy-lidded, pupils dilated with lust, and his jaw momentarily tightened in unrestrained satisfaction as a faint flush touched across the apples of his cheeks and down his neck. It was a version of Nico that George had never seen before; so pleasured and without inhibitions. Enchanting. 

Nico let out a small breath that was laced in with a groan as the wet sounds of the woman’s mouth on him grew louder, more pronounced, as she worked him masterfully. George glanced back down at her, watching Nico’s fingers tight in her hair and how his bicep tensed slightly as he tried not to yank her too far down. Without a thought, George’s hand reached for the front of his underwear and gave himself a small squeeze over the thin fabric. 

He hadn’t realized he was already growing hard until that moment, finding his dick straining against the material of his briefs under his palm. George sucked in a tight breath as the pleasure sensors sizzled under his touch and he kept his palm rubbing over his clothed erection with his eyes flicking between the woman giving the blowjob and the handsome man receiving it. A moment later, his attention still focused between his counterparts, George slid his hand under the waistband of his underwear to touch himself properly, giving himself a few lazy and restricted strokes with his fingertips.

It was a whole new situation for George; sitting there watching two people succumb to their desire right in front of him. He couldn’t look away at first, taking in every ounce of their moment, until, again, he glanced over at Nico sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. It was as if the look of his teammate’s expression was more interesting than the sight of the woman going down on him. George couldn’t look away.

After just a moment, as if sensing he was being watched, Nico glanced over at George and their eyes met. They were sitting so close together on his bed that it almost felt like their noses were about to touch. A sly smirk grazed Nico’s face, his blue eyes flicking between George’s own and his lips parted in near-wonder as he stared right back. A certain motion from the woman between his legs had Nico’s eyebrows furrowing for a split second and his breath inhaling, all without taking his eyes away from George. 

“Like what you see, George?” Nico taunted, his voice a little breathless, the slight hint of an accent that embraced his words feeling a little thicker. 

George licked his lips, his hand still working beneath the confines of his underwear as he firmly kept Nico’s unwavering gaze. Distracted by their eye contact, George didn’t even realize that his touch on himself started to grow a fraction more insistent. 

“Yeah,” George replied in a breath, his chest feeling tight from how hard his heart was pounding, “Very much so.”

“Yeah?” Nico played some more. His eyes dropped down George’s lean and fit torso to the moving lump under the front of his underwear where his hand was moving around his cock. Nico, more sure of himself at thirty-one than George still was at twenty-six, reached out to grasp George’s wrist and pull his hand out, “So come participate. Never took you to be just a spectator.” 

“I didn’t want to interrupt.” George protested meekly. 

“What if I want you to interrupt?” Nico challenged. 

The two men stared at each other for a moment, the only sounds in the room being their rhythmic breaths and the lewd noise of the woman’s mouth still working lazily around Nico’s dick. The tension was crawling up George’s spine and wrapping itself around his throat. He felt sick with anticipation. 

Before he could make any move, Nico was sliding his hand around the back of George’s neck and grabbing firmly. It was a move he often did after races, a moment to pull their helmets together for a head bump in shared congratulations behind the noise of parc fermé, but here, now, it held so much more behind it. His slender fingers curled into the roots of George’s brunette waves, giving him a little tug at the nape of his neck to pull him closer. George couldn’t help the small gasp that slipped from his throat. 

Their noses bumped first and George sucked in a breath, his wide eyes still boring into Nico’s half-lidded ones no matter how much he was turned on at that moment. He could feel Nico’s ragged breaths against his cheek and  it had him habitually licking his lips once more, wetting them, mind whirling over what this night was going to progress into. 

Then, in a moment equally fleeting and painfully long, Nico pushed his lips onto George’s. 

The first kiss was messy and off-centre, earning more skin than lips to meet, but it was immediately followed by a second where Nico took the lead and slotted their lips together properly. George initially tensed, inhaling sharply into their motionless kiss and freezing in place. But, when Nico went to pull away, George all but lunged forward, grabbing the back of his teammate’s neck in return and yanking him back into a heated kiss. 

Nico groaned lowly into it as they shared slow, sloppy, tentative kisses, hands grasping onto backs of necks and skin feeling hot to touch. As their heads tilted to deepen their kiss, George slid his hand down Nico’s chest, resting it over his pecs and feeling each rise and fall of his every breath. George’s mind was whirling, and yet, at the same time, felt like it was filled with nothing but static. Was this really happening? He would pinch himself but, fuck, he really didn’t want to risk waking up. 

“Holy shit.”

The pleasured groan from farther down the bed had George realizing that he had almost completely forgotten that his gorgeous grid girl was even present. She had her hand still lazily stroking Nico with her wide, amused eyes staring up at the both of them with her bottom lip between her teeth. There was a certain twinkle in her eye that betrayed just how much she was into the unexpected sight before her.

“Don’t let me stop you.” she all but purred, reaching up with her other hand to tug at the waistband of George’s underwear. 

He took her prompt without question and lifted his hips to shove his underwear down, leaving him just as bare as Nico, and then her hand went to his hard cock too, having them each in her grasp to pleasure them simultaneously. George shuddered both at her touch and the obvious fire behind Nico’s gaze directed right down to his groin.

Nico let out a playful wolf-whistle, “Impressive, Georgie.”

George could feel the blush trailing down his neck and over his collarbones, flushed from lust and from the unexpected praise and attention from his teammate. He shifted in place and grasped the side of Nico’s neck as he leaned in to start to kiss at his neck with a small whine. George’s legs fell open a little more, hips nudging up against the hand of the beautiful woman who was currently giving him a lazy handjob, all without stopping his ministrations along the column of Nico’s neck. 

“That’s more like it.” Nico exhaled, almost a hint of pride in his voice, and he draped an arm around George’s shoulders to keep him close, succumbing to the sensations of the younger man’s lips on his neck. George could feel his eyes on him, how he stared at him as the woman tended to him in generous strokes. When she finally took George’s dick in her mouth, he pulled away from Nico’s neck with a tight gasp.

“Fuck.” George hissed, glancing down at her as she batted her lashes back up at him from between his lazily parted thighs. 

He was nearly leaning entirely on Nico at that point, draped naked on the bed with his head resting on his teammate's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his bicep against his shoulder blade. It was as if any care or concern had dissipated in George’s mind—the presence of lust had a way of doing that. Shamelessly horny, he let his body mould with that of the man beside him as he succumbed to the warm, wet confines of the gorgeous woman’s mouth on him. Sure, it wasn’t the most mind-blowing head he had ever received but there was something about that situation as a whole that made George’s nerve endings tingle.

She shared the both of them, going back and forth to tend to each of them one at a time, making sure to keep the other nicely stimulated with her hand when it wasn’t their turn to take up her mouth. The men lounged together in naked bliss as they watched her, and George caught himself often glancing to his right just to stare at Nico just a little more. In the last six years that George had been in Formula 1, never had he experienced teammate bonding quite like this.

George couldn’t help himself as the magnetic pull in his chest urged him closer and he pressed a kiss to the corner of Nico’s mouth. The elder turned his face towards his younger counterpart, smiling that cocky handsome grin of his, before leaning in to meet him halfway for another proper tongue-led kiss. It stirred a feeling of unexplainable desire in George’s stomach, a thirst that felt far more quenchable now than it had in years prior when he had been smothering any fleeting concept of this that might have crossed his mind. Everything—Nico—was once so unattainable. Now, everything felt within his reach. 

George’s cheek sizzled where Nico pressed the pad of his thumb, forcing his mouth open a little wider to push in his tongue. Like putty, George melted, parting his lips and accepting the invasion as he raised a hand to grasp the back of Nico’s neck and hold his mouth on his. There was a roughness to the way Nico kissed; like even this was a competition. On the track, George might have been his fiercest competitor, but, here, now, all he could do was fold under Nico’s assertive dominance. 

After a moment, when they pulled apart to breathe, there was a string of spit connecting their lips and it broke, dripping down George’s chin. His wide eyes were all over the face of his mentor, trying to gauge his reaction or perhaps receive any hints of guidance as to what to do next. Nico smeared the slick of spit across George’s swollen bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before squeezing the younger man’s chiseled face between thumb and fingers, pinching his cheeks as he admired him.

“You’ve always been such a pretty boy.” Nico all but purred.

George felt his cock twitch in the firm grasp of the woman laying between his legs. Her soft giggle in awareness floated in the air of the bedroom.

And then, much to Nico’s pleasant surprise—and, in all honesty, surprise of George, himself—the younger man was shifting in place in a fit of bravery and then leaning himself over his mentor’s lap. The woman still held her hand around the shaft of Nico’s cock, watching in awe as George tentatively licked up the side of it and then wrapped his spitty lips around the head. 

His heart in his throat, George had the sudden realization that he had never sucked a dick before or, rather, gotten anywhere as close to one as he was in that moment. Suddenly he was just there with his lips wrapped stupidly around the head of Nico’s cock and not knowing what the fuck to do next. What had he gotten himself into? He was in far too deep now. 

The feeling of Nico’s fingers pushing through the roots of George’s hair had the tension in his body relaxing slightly, melting downwards into the mattress and over Nico’s thigh and, ultimately, causing his mouth to move deeper. With a gentle voice laced in pleasure, words chosen as if he knew just what to say, Nico spoke to him, “That’s it, Georgie. Give it to me how you like to receive it.”

The woman was still nestled between Nico’s thighs, her hand still holding his dick upwards for George’s mouth to sink further down on. With a giddy grin, she encouraged, “That’s so hot.”

George withered, letting out a faint moan with his mouth full of dick. Strangely, it was intensely arousing, as much as he might have hated to admit it. Sure, he liked pleasuring his partners but up until that point, it had only ever been women—never having even thought about how sucking dick could get him just as turned on. But, here he was, mouth fucking salivating, and almost instinctively finding a pace to start to bob his mouth around Nico-freaking-Rosberg’s cock like he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Nico still had his hand carding through George’s hair, petting him, applying just a little pressure to the back of his head as if to guide him downwards. George could feel his eyes on him, watching his every ungraceful move, likely seeing how unimpressive he was being, hardly able to take much of him in his mouth at all. 

But then, Nico breathed out an almost dreamy, “Fuck, George…that’s a good boy…I know you can go deeper.”

Good boy.

Nico praised him in that same tone he used when they were in training sessions together—so kind and genuine and friendly—something so warm that made George just trust him from their first week of mentorship. That voice that pushed George to challenge himself, to lift more, run faster, push harder…anything to earn more of that professional praise from his mentor. That’s all it was, wasn’t it? Professional?

George’s entire body shuddered at his words and his hand reached over to hold Nico still, taking over from the woman. He tried to push himself deeper, gagging around him wetly as a result. Nico groaned tightly, his hips trying to nudge up into his mouth at the restriction. 

“Loosen your throat and relax your jaw,” the beautiful woman instructed George softly, setting her fingers against his jaw to help him, “breathe through your nose…there you go.”

George whimpered and gurgled around Nico’s dick as it took up his mouth. It certainly didn’t feel average anymore with the way his jaw was already starting to cramp up from the unfamiliar motions. After a second, he had to pull back to breathe.

He stared down at the swollen red cock in his hand, glistened in spit and precum, easily slicking up George’s hand as he started to stroke it like he would his own. The pretty sounds that came from Nico’s throat spurred him on to keep that pace going, soft breaths and handsome moans that went right to his dick. 

George was very aware of his gorgeous grid girl sharing the moment from beside him, guiding him without judgement. He couldn’t help but be drawn closer to her, too, emotionally and physically, as he leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She kissed him back without question, hands sliding over his broad bare shoulders as her tongue slipped past the seam of his lips and, at the same time, George kept his hand tending to Nico’s dick in firm strokes. 

Almost as if sharing the same mind, she and George ended up moving downwards together and, as he took Nico back in his mouth, she leaned in to drag her tongue over his balls and along the base of his dick. George moved his hand away and, instead, set it over Nico’s abs, feeling the taut muscle there and the steady rhythm of his every jagged breath, giving them room to use nothing but their mouths on the World Champion. 

“Jesus Christ,” Nico cursed through his teeth, staring down at his body as the two of them shared the responsibility of sucking him off. 

Their tongues clashed as they licked up and down the sides of his cock, taking turns to take him in their mouths for proper suction. George could feel himself getting sloppier as the seconds passed, as if his rising lust was making him impatient for something more. He was always a competitive soul—perhaps it was a requirement to be a Formula 1 driver—and so soon he was wrapping his hand around Nico’s cock and guiding it away from the woman’s mouth just so he could have his turn again, determined to deliver the best results he could. 

For a split second, as his throat struggled to accommodate the unfamiliar invasion so much so that his eyes were burning with tears, George swore he might entirely throw up. He tried to relax, easing himself down more with a gentle shake of his head, until, finally, his nose brushed the coarse trimmed hair that lined Nico’s pelvis. Nico tossed his back against the pillows and headboard with a stiff groan, his fingers flexing into George’s brunette waves with a tight tug of pleasure, holding him right down on him for a moment longer, just to feel the way George’s throat constricted around him. 

“Fuck—” Nico dragged out the vowel before releasing George’s hair. 

George sat back with a heave of air, coughing wetly and dribbling spit down his chin as tears streaked across his flushed cheeks. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing out a raspy, “Blimey—”

The woman beside him smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss up his neck rewardingly, nipping at his earlobe with a playful coo, “Baby’s first deepthroat.”

The men chuckled lightly at her statement, George’s face a flushed pink and his expression already looking entirely fucked out and not much had even happened just yet. But, before George could even get his wits about him, Nico was shifting on the bed and gently guiding George to take his place. They swapped positions in silent agreement and George flopped backwards on the expensive mattress and down-filled pillows with a panted breath, staring up wide-eyed as Nico took control. 

“Think our boy deserves a reward for that.” Nico said, half to the woman with him and half to no one in particular. 

“He definitely does.” she agreed with a smile, adjusting herself on the large bed so she was draped out beside George’s lanky body. Her hand immediately took to his chest in playful caresses that rose goosebumps under her touch.

George might have looked at her in that moment in any other instance, but with Nico clearly having a plan in mind, he couldn’t look away from him. Especially not when his teammate was guiding his legs farther apart so he could situated himself between them and lean down to kiss his thighs. 

George inhaled tightly, arms draped lazily beside his head with his fingers curling into the pillowcase absentmindedly. He stared down at the way Nico’s soft lips pressed open mouthed kisses up his inner thigh—tender, patient—like he was something more than just that lanky, awkward, big-eyed kid with the shit haircut that Nico took under his wing six years ago. George’s mind swirled through every excuse in the book as to why Nico wouldn’t want him like this and on the contrary, why, it seemed, he so suddenly did. 

The beautiful woman shared in the joy of kissing over George’s smooth skin, trailing kisses over his collarbones and shoulder and up the column of his neck. With all this attention, George was squirming. Nico tightened his grip on George’s thighs, holding him still so he could continue the ministrations of his lips without interruption, trailing higher and higher and higher. From the teasing alone, the anticipation, and the unfamiliar scratch of Nico’s stubble against his skin, George felt his cock twitch. 

“Want it that bad, hm?” Nico teased lowly, his hot breath falling against the supple skin of George’s inner thighs. 

George could only let out a small whine, almost entirely involuntary. His cheeks flushed pink at the sound that came out of him and his fingers clutched the pillowcase on either side of his head, trying to ground himself to keep from embarrassing himself in front of Nico. He had always been so concerned with what Nico thought of him but as he laid there, naked and waiting underneath him, he started to realize that Nico really looked like he wanted to be nowhere else but right there.

With a firm hand, Nico wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft of George’s cock and lifted it up and away from where it had been resting against his pelvis. Even from only that miniscule touch, George’s eyelashes fluttered as the heat of it shot up his spine and he pressed his teeth tightly into his bottom lip. From his throat came a tight, “Mm—”

Nico shined a handsome smile up at him as his hand slowly started to move in testing strokes, gliding along with the foreskin that hugged his cock, pulling downwards to reveal the swollen pink head. George’s breath caught in his throat and his eyebrows raised almost clean off his head, staring down wide-eyed at the very real visual of his own damn teammate touching him so sensually. 

From beside him, George was aware of the girl beside him as she kissed his neck and her slim fingers rubbed over his nipples, grounding him in the familiarity of female companionship in this sea of uncharted territory. He felt like he was tingling all over from the way she played with his sensitive nipples to the lazy strokes of Nico’s ridiculously soft hand on his dick, his body thrumming with need and pleasure. 

When Nico finally lowered his head down and dragged his flat tongue up the underside of his cock, George’s head fell dully against the pillow with a silent gape to the ceiling. And then, when Nico wrapped his lips around him entirely, George’s eyes quite literally rolled, head arching back a little more with his fingers tightening around the fabric of the pillow case.

The faint rumble of George’s chest could be felt under the woman’s lips as she kissed across his pecs and she smiled against his flushed skin, her voice as soft as velvet, “Does that feel good?”

George swallowed thickly as he heaved his head up from the pillow to look down at Nico between his legs, his expression settled in a permanent state of pleasured surprise as he watched his teammate set a gentle pace around his cock. When Nico raised his eyes upwards, meeting George’s gaze with those sea-blue eyes he had grown all too familiar with over the years, George withered. With a breathy whine, he answered the woman, “Ye-ah-”

The slight suction of Nico’s mouth had George’s response breaking in the middle into a gasp. His toes curled. It definitely wasn’t George’s first blowjob—not by a longshot, really—but something about watching Nico be the one to go down on him like that (with impressive skill, might he add) after so long of smothering any and all potential to the back of his mind had George really feeling like this was the best thing ever.

The woman’s tongue lapped at George’s nipples while her fingers toyed with them in precise rubs. All the points of stimulation on his body were ablaze and George felt drunk and he hadn't even finished the one cocktail Nico had made him earlier. 

Once he settled into the feeling of Nico sucking him off, George rested his head back on the pillow with pleasured pants of breath and he slid a hand up the gorgeous woman’s spine and then guided her mouth to his by the back of her neck. They kissed sloppily and he fed her his sweet moans by the grace of his tongue, fisting the roots of her hair at the nape of her neck as if he needed something to hold onto. 

With one particularly delicious suction from the mouth on his cock, George flew a hand down to grab a fistful of the blonde hair nestled between his quivering thighs. Nico groaned around his dick at the faint pull of his hair as if in surprise but he didn’t let up, keeping his hand moving in those idyllic twisting strokes while his mouth followed the rhythm, making sure to hollow his cheeks every time he pulled upwards. 

George had to pull away from her mouth to heave in some air into his lungs, his breaths falling ragged as he felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in the pit of his stomach. Her forehead rested against his temple as her fingers played with his sensitive nipples, her voice angelic as she whispered filthy words to him to egg him on while Nico worked his magic. 

“You like watching the World Champion sucking your cock?” she whispered against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine, “Making you such a pretty mess, hm? You’d let him do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

George couldn’t help the ever so discreet nod in silent response. His cheeks burned crimson at the realization of what he had just admitted. She smiled, half proud and half sly, but didn’t draw attention to it.

With one hand lazily resting between her shoulder blades and his other burrowed in Nico’s hair, George was sandwiched between the two most gorgeous people he had ever seen, he was sure. The lewd wet sound of Nico’s mouth gagging around him had George’s eyes struggling to stay open, his expression nothing short of erotic as he watched his newly World Champion mentor taking his whole fucking dick down his throat like it was his day job. George swore stars were spotting his vision. 

He could feel his orgasm approaching, rising and rising to that precipice. He tightened his fingers in Nico’s hair, desperate to keep him going, so badly wanting to come in the warm, wet confines of his perfect fucking mouth—

And then, all at once, Nico pulled away and George was left with that rapidly fading feeling and a heaviness of disappointment. 

“Nico,” George huffed, his voice thick and whiny in frustration, dragging out his name just a little longer than normal. 

“Come on, we’re just getting started.” Nico replied playfully, politely wiping his mouth with the side of his forefinger and thumb as he sat back on his haunches, “Don’t want to come before you get to really enjoy yourself, do you?”

Although George partially wanted to protest, he knew he was right. He kept his mouth shut. 

Nico cocked his head at the woman still curled up at George’s side, “C’mere, baby, your turn now.”

George watched as she untangled herself from under his arm and shifted to where she was directed, draping herself out on the spacious king size bed. Watching her move like that, flushed with arousal and donning only her skimpy panties, George couldn’t help but be drawn after her, following her into a new position and helping himself between her legs. She giggled sweetly up at him as he linked his fingers in the sides of her underwear and started to pull them down her legs and he couldn’t help but smile right back. 

This was the gorgeous young woman he had been silently eyeing all season, desperately trying not to let the sight of her holding his name at the front of his car distract him from his race preparations. Now—although faster than he had anticipated—he had her in bed and he wasn’t about to let any opportunity pass him by. That was not what that night was about, after all. 

George could feel how achingly hard he was, throbbing between his legs, made only worse by the generous attention from Nico moments earlier, but he stayed focused on his task at hand. With the woman’s panties dropped to the floor, George gently pushed her thighs apart and leaned down to kiss the inside of her knee. He tried to take his time but who could blame him for ending up almost rushing to trail kisses down her inner thigh. It was as if he could smell her, the natural pheromones luring him closer to her cunt until his nose was brushing against her clit and his tongue dropped out for a taste. 

The sweet sound that slipped from her lips made him shiver and his arms went around her thighs to hold her on his mouth as he tongued lazily at her cunt. George had always been perfectly happy giving just as much as he enjoyed receiving and, in that moment, it was shown as clear as day across his face as his eyes fluttered shut with a pleased moan. 

“Fuck—” she gasped to the ceiling, her fingers threading through his tousled hair in a snug grip. 

She tasted as good as he had imagined on those lonely nights in hotel rooms and as his tongue worked her greedily, he couldn’t help but grind against the mattress with a muffled groan. Her hips pushed up against his mouth for more and he dragged his tongue up to her clit to kiss and lick and suck on it just to earn the prideful sight of her back arching off the bed with a mewl of pleasure. 

The noise of foil tearing had George momentarily pulling away from her pussy, his lips and chin shimmering from how wet she was, and he glanced over curiously to where Nico was pulling out a condom from its wrapper. Nico shuffled closer to the pair of them and, much to George’s surprise, gave him a small spank to get him to move out of the way.

She must have seen George’s displeased expression at being interrupted because then the woman was offering him a curl of her finger and a sweet, “Come up here.”

He shifted out from between her legs to let Nico take his spot and he moved up her body, following her guidance to straddle her head. George’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip at the positioning but there was a twinkle in her eye that gave away her own sureness while her warm hands slid up his tone thighs and then wrapped around his throbbing cock.

She started stroking him in both hands, staring at his dick angled right towards her face as she spoke casually, “You’re really good at eating pussy, you know that?”

George chuckled modestly, “You think so?”

“Mm, mhm.” she nodded in passive agreement before guiding his dick in her mouth. 

George withered and tilted his head back as he pushed a hand through his hair to get it out of his face before he was looking back down at her and the way her lips were wrapped so perfectly around the girth of his cock. His lips pulled into a tight line behind a stiff groan and his hips pushed a little towards her face to sink deeper into her mouth. 

“Ready?” Nico’s voice came from farther down the bed. 

“Mhm.” she answered around George’s dick.

When George glanced over his shoulder to watch, he noted the way she spread her legs wider and bent them back to encourage Nico closer. He had put on the condom by then, one hand grounding himself with a gentle hold on one of her ankles while his other slid the protected head of his cock between her slick folds. There was some strange heart stirring in George’s chest at the sight of Nico slowly pressing into her, the combination of their initial sighs and gasps at the sensation. He wasn’t sure if it was lust or jealousy…maybe an evil combination of the two. In the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure which individual he was jealous of in that moment. 

He looked back down to the woman splayed out across the bed, taking in her furrowed expression of pleasure behind his dick in her mouth. Her sucking was languid now with her focus divided between him and the fact that she was now getting fucked. George nudged his hips forward again to encourage her silently, thrusting into her mouth just enough to earn a slutty whine from her. 

“Shit,” Nico groaned from behind him, more to himself than anyone, and yet the tight hints of ecstasy in his voice sent a shiver down George’s spine, “that’s so fuckin’ good…”

She moaned around George’s dick, her hands grabbing at his thighs as they framed her head as her mouth tended to him sloppily. He tried to focus on her with one hand on his waist as he lazily trusted her mouth, shuddering at the feeling of the ridges on the roof of her mouth against the sensitive head of his cock and the way she moaned and whined around him. But, despite it all, George kept catching himself glancing over his shoulder to where Nico was. 

The faint creak of the bed beneath Nico’s every firm thrust from behind him had George’s mind wandering to thoughts he had always been so good at repressing. He couldn’t stop staring at him, almost getting a kink in his neck with how much he was trying to contort himself. 

Only seconds later, the tap on his thigh had George looking back down to the woman beneath him and she ordered with a gentle, “Turn around.”

George didn’t question it before he moved off of her and turned around to face Nico instead and she guided his leg back over her face to take his dick back in her mouth. George flinched at the sensation, settling into his place there as he appreciated his new view of Nico grasping onto her thighs and fucking her strongly. Nico sent him a sly smirk and perhaps there was a hint of a wink there too. 

Not wanting to crush the poor woman entirely, George adjusted himself on top of her and settled forward onto his forearms on either side of her body, allowing her to keep his cock in her mouth as she pleased and earned him a front row view to the man of the year being balls deep inside  her. George’s fingers grasped onto the duvet beneath them as his eyes trained in on the steady thrusts of Nico fucking into her sopping cunt and pulling back out in rapid succession. The lewd sound had his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, insides burning at the rhythmic pants of his teammate that were now more than just from a good workout.

Nico carded his fingers through George’s hair with a warm, tight chuckle, “You like watching, don’t ya, Georgie?”

The slight condescending tone in his voice had George’s stomach churning with lust and his eyes flitted up to Nico’s face who was already staring down at him intently. There was a slight darkness to his eyes that came with the onset of lust and it was an expression that George had to look away from due to the intensity behind it.

In silent reply—and, also, wanting to participate—George lifted a hand up to glide his fingers through the coarse trimmed hair along the gorgeous woman’s pelvis and let his fingertips graze her swollen clit. She gasped around his dick and George took that as incentive to start to rub at it properly, finding a pace of firm, tight circles that had her hands tightening on his thighs on either side of her head. 

“Yeah…good boy,” Nico purred breathily, fingers still tightly wound in George’s hair. 

“Christ,” George groaned through a lick of his lips, watching him fuck her so deliciously behind his fingers working sloppily on her clit.

“Hear how wet she is?” Nico asked.

It was easy to, really. George had been in a haze at the rhythmic sound of her sopping cunt taking his every thrust greedily, filling the bedroom with it. George slid his fingers lower to spread her lips apart to watch every inch of Nico’s dick filling her up snugly before pulling out only halfway and plenty smeared in her arousal. She made the prettiest sounds too and George at least had the privilege to feel the vibration of each around his dick in her mouth, but, selfishly, he just wanted more. He wanted a turn…with either of them, honestly.

Just then, almost like he could read George’s mind, Nico pulled out of her. He was so hard that when he did, his cock bobbed lazily in the air for a moment, right in George’s face, the condom glistening in the bedroom light. Always such a good teammate, George knew what he wanted without needing to be asked and he leaned right in and wrapped his mouth around it. Nico’s hand tightened in his hair and he let out a rumbling groan as George sucked him clean, seemingly unbothered by the taste of latex that lingered under the sweet taste of her creamy wetness. 

“Who knew you were such a slut, George.” Nico chuckled, low and rumbling in his chest, eyes watching him suck him clean, “I mean, fuck, I knew you were a bit of a flirt but, mmph—”

George didn’t speak to how his teammate’s words sent fire through his veins. Instead, he let him pull his mouth off with his fist in his hair and Nico then slapped the head of his cock against George’s lips and tongue. George tried not to writhe behind the lewd action, still aware of the girl he was on top of who was swallowing down his dick eagerly. 

He choked out a messy groan, eyelashes fluttering as he glanced up at Nico kneeling before him. 

“Wish I knew you were into this sooner,” Nico purred as he smeared the protected head of his dick across George’s swollen bottom lip, “we coulda had a lot more fun as teammates.”

George didn’t have a moment to properly linger and process on what the fuck he meant by that before they were, yet again, switching positions. He somehow ended up with a box of condoms in his hand, having taken Nico’s place between the woman’s spread thighs. She was touching herself lazily, modestly manicured fingers swirling over her clit and messy pussy, batting her lashes up at him with that sweet smile he had grown so fond of over the season. 

Nico was behind him, watching like a true and honest mentor, his hands resting on George’s waist and his lips trailing lazy kisses up the side of his neck. It made it extremely hard to focus on rolling the condom on, George discovered, but soon the wrapper was discarded to the side and he was shuffling closer to his beautiful grid girl. 

He leaned down over top of her, sinking onto his forearms on either side of her head with her legs hooked around his thighs. They shared whispered giggling ‘hi’s in their newfound intimate proximity just before their lips met in a slow, sensual kiss. George ground against her a little, letting the length of his erection glide between her slick lips a few times, the both of them sharing soft pleasure breaths of anticipation. 

And then he was sinking inside her entirely, slowly, patiently, making sure to draw the moment on so they could both feel every inch stretching her out. Her hands grasped onto his shoulder blades with a tight gasp into his mouth, skin slick and flush with sheens of rising sweat. George blinked a few times languidly to catch his bearings as he sheathed entirely inside her snug body. 

Suddenly he couldn’t recall the last time he had a proper lay; the last time he had time or energy to properly take some girl back to his hotel room and fuck her emotionlessly into the sheets between the hazy lines of NDAs. Maybe it had been a while…maybe his mind had been too preoccupied. 

Preoccupied with the woman now beneath him, staring up at him with the sweetest pleasure across her face, and preoccupied with the man situated behind him with his firm hands groping his ass. Nico gave him a spank. George hissed at the sting. 

“C’mon, Georgie,” Nico taunted, “Fuck her good now.”

George slowly started to move, easing out of her about halfway before sinking back in entirely. The soft, pleasant hum she let out went right down his spine. 

“Christ…” George muttered under his breath, words wavering with the overwhelming sensation of her pussy squeezing around him in all the right ways. His nose brushed against hers as their breaths fell in sync and she turned her face to his to capture his lips with hers in a sloppy kiss. He groaned into her mouth as he set a gentle pace, grinding deeply into her in curling thrusts that had her toes curling. 

“That’s it…” Nico praised lowly from behind him. He followed George’s movements by a hand on his ass as if guiding him, feeling every tension and release of his muscles as he thrusted into the beautiful woman beneath him. 

George shivered at the feeling of Nico’s lips on his spine but he didn’t let up, keeping himself busy with the woman he was fucking so deliciously. Nico kissed along the dimples in his lower back and his strong hands kneaded the flesh of his ass at the same time. When his lips pulled away, he gave his bum a sharp spank.

“Mmph—” George muffled in surprise at the sting, right into her mouth. 

The woman giggled sweetly and ghosted her fingernails up and down his sides, touching him all over, adding to the sensations of the situation. Nico leaned down farther, his plush lips kissing the base of George’s spine and, finally, over the flesh of his ass. With a gentle, testing bite, Nico chuckled lowly at the way George flinched. 

Nico pulled back again and went back to the massage of his hands over his glutes, squeezing and rubbing as George kept lazily rocking into the woman beneath him. With a hum of approval, Nico spoke, “Those gym sessions really pay off for you, George. I mean, fuck.”

“Mm, just wanna impress you,” George rambled without thinking of the implications of what he was saying. He meant it as in Nico was his professional mentor, okay? Seriously, he did.

Nico chuckled, “Well, consider me greatly impressed.”

The woman’s hands slid up the side of George’s neck as they gazed into each other’s eyes, pupils dilated with lust with every lazy stroke he gave her. She pulled her legs back a little more to allow him closer, making sure he was giving her every last inch in beautiful precise thrusts that had her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. God, she looked just as beautiful getting fucked as he had always imagined. He couldn’t stop staring at her. 

He couldn’t stop staring at her even as Nico kept groping the flesh of his ass and kissing and biting over his hips and glutes. With one hand, Nico reached between George’s legs and gently squeezed his balls, urging a low groan of pleasant surprise out of the younger man whose hips jumped a little into their next stroke. George faltered a moment, unfamiliar with the situation, but Nico just encouraged him on with an angelic praise. 

“Keep going, baby.”

George’s insides churned at the pet name, succumbing to its order without thought, and he went back to those slow but sure thrusts into the beautiful woman’s pliant body. 

Nico spoke from behind him like he was the angel or devil on his shoulder with one hand gently fondling his balls, “Good boy. That’s it.” 

George leaned down again to steal more kisses from the woman beneath him, letting his tongue explore her mouth with filthy bliss as they shared pleasured breaths. He was all too aware of Nico behind him, left in the darkness of his peripheral vision to really see what he was plotting. It didn’t take him long to figure it out, however, because not long after Nico removed his hand, he was, instead, spreading George’s cheeks and leaning down to kiss wetly right over his perineum. 

The little breathy whimper that slipped from George’s mouth was almost entirely involuntary, breaking away from the woman’s kiss with a flutter of his lashes at the surprise of the sensation. 

Staring up at his expression, she smiled, “Oh wow, yeah, you like that, don’t you, baby?”

Nico chuckled lowly from behind him as George entirely stilled, all of his senses turning towards him, waiting for more. He complied, leaning down again to, now, drag his tongue right up between his cheeks, once, twice, and then left a wet kiss right over his asshole. 

George kept the unwavering eye contact of the woman beneath him, his expression frozen in surprise but not distaste either as if he were silently gauging how he felt about the situation at hand. He could feel the faint stubble of Nico’s trimmed facial hair against the supple skin of his ass, nestled between his cheeks that were spread by his teammate’s firm hands. George squirmed a little and, shamelessly, found himself pushing back on his mouth.

“Mhm,” Nico mumbled against him in a muted praise, tongue lapping at him purposefully. 

His warm breath fell in soft pants against George’s skin, the younger man so attuned to every sensation that even the slightest touch had him shuddering. The woman beneath him dragged her fingertips up his biceps and back down as his arms framed her head, her siren-eyes staring up at him and every flutter of expression that grazed his face. 

“Yeah, does that feel good?” she taunted sweetly, her manicured fingernails rising goosebumps over his arms, “Never had someone eat you out before, have you?”

“Jesus—” George choked out. That was answer enough.

His mouth fell slack as Nico pressed the tip of his tongue firmly against the puckered muscle and teased him with precise swirls. A small gasp slipped from George’s throat and he caught himself pushing back a little more. Nico moaned against him at his eagerness, the vibration making George whither. 

“You’re so lucky,” the woman purred up to George, her well-crafted words spurring him on, “getting rimmed while being nestled in a warm, tight pussy. Best of both worlds, isn’t it, love?”

George groaned in response, as if his mind was so overwhelmed that all words just left his brain entirely, and the reminder of his current positioning had his hips nudging forwards into her some more. She let out a tiny moan in surprise, fingers curling around his biceps as he ground into her, finding a shallow pace that allowed him to keep grinding into her while also grinding back on Nico’s mouth. He felt like he was dreaming. 

From behind him, Nico shook his head just a little to really nestle himself between George’s cheeks while his tongue and lips moving in a lewd sloppy dance. He was taking his time with it, working him into it, taking breaks from tonguing at his asshole to kiss and tease his cheeks and his perineum and even down to his balls. It wasn’t long before George’s body was relaxing under his touch and he could see him starting to open up just a little. 

“Look at you, pretty boy,” Nico commended, pausing just long enough to spit right onto the tight rim of muscle and let his middle finger smear it in, “so ready and wanting.”

George panted out a, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Nico taunted, gently prodding at his asshole with the tip of his middle finger and letting it slip inside just to the first knuckle. His voice was honey sweet and laced with a hint of deriding that, on the receiving end, made rouge blossom across George’s cheeks, “Yeah, you want more, baby?”

George almost didn’t recognize his voice at how whiny and pathetic he sounded when he repeated his stupid little, “Please.”

“Such good manners.” the woman beneath him tutted.

She was so patient, George thought for a moment as he stared down at her and was lost in the comfort of her gaze. So patient to lay there, filled with him, while he was simply unmoving. Not even looking bored by it, she genuinely looked as though she were enjoying herself. In the intensity of the moment, George made a mental note to put a fucking ring on her finger. 

Perhaps in his momentary distraction with the gorgeous woman staring up at him and his chaotic thoughts clouding his mind, he hadn’t noticed when Nico had retrieved a bottle of lube. The sudden pop of the lid tore him back to reality. He tried to look over his shoulder. 

“This okay?” Nico asked, the lust in his voice momentarily replaced with that same serious and concerned tone he used when he was first leading George through a few beginner training sessions in that first year. Nothing like this. 

“Yeah,” George replied in a breath, “I want it.”

The sudden drip of ice cold lube between his ass cheeks had George gasping tightly. Nico hushed him sweetly and his warm fingers followed, rubbing it in generously over his tight rim of muscle before prodding at it again. His middle finger found its way back inside him, easing down to the second knuckle before slipping back out a little.

Nico took his time, easing him open one finger at a time, relaxing him with kisses over the base of his spine and his hips and his thighs. George felt nearly boneless, and he was sure if he were in a cartoon, little birds and stars would be floating around his head. He slumped down onto his forearms on either side of the beautiful woman’s head and they both leaned in for a sloppy kiss at the same time. 

Almost subconsciously, George started to grind his hips into her and, equally, back on Nico’s hand. Always having been a giver, he was finding his rhythm in what it entailed to be a receiver at the same time. And, God, had he not anticipated how good it would feel to have someone’s fingers up his ass; to have Nico’s fingers up his ass. 

George moaned into her mouth, his fingers tangling in the messy locks of her hair that was draped out around her head as he had her pinned to the bed. Her dainty hands reached down to grab two snug fistfulls of his ass, keeping him spread for Nico’s fingers and to, also, guide his grinds into her as he pushed his cock deeper. His spread knees kept her legs splayed open on either side of his body, helping to keep him in perfect position with his hips up to welcome Nico’s fingers while his lips and tongue stayed tangled with hers. 

From behind him, Nico was three fingers deep in George’s ass, slicked up heartily in lube until it was nearly dripping down his hand as he set a steady rhythm. The wet squelch of his fingers thrusting gently inside him filled the bedroom behind the trio’s panted breaths and soft moans and, with an attentive eye, Nico was laser focused on the way George was squeezing around his fingers. He was so easy to stretch open, so relaxed and trusting, falling so effortlessly into submission for someone who had no experience. 

Nico leaned down and let his tongue join his fingers, just to give him a little treat of added stimulation, and his free hand rested overtop of the woman’s on George’s cheek in an absentminded action. George pushed back on Nico’s mouth more insistently, gasping and groaning into his kiss as his body ached for more. Between the touch of his teammate and the tight squeeze of that perfect pussy around his dick, he was nearly going insane.

As if reading his mind, Nico adjusted his position behind him, rising up properly on his knees between George’s legs, and he pulled his fingers out of him slowly. George whined at the sudden emptiness, breaking his kiss to try to look back at him over his shoulder with a kiss-swollen pout. 

“Hang on, Georgie,” Nico all but purred, popping the cap on the bottle of lube again, with a tension in his voice as if he, too, were being held back. 

The woman beneath him gave George’s ass a smack and he turned his face back towards her with a surprised gasp. Her feet were linked over his thighs and she pushed her hips up to meet his, trying to get him to go back to fucking her while Nico got himself ready. George dipped down to lick his way into her mouth again and complied, giving her a few hard shoves that had her jaw falling slack despite the pleasured expression on her face. 

Nico spanked him weakly to get him to stop a few seconds later and, obediently, George pushed his ass back towards him as if presenting himself. Honestly, he wasn’t sure where half of these moves came from or where he learned them; it was as if his body and mind were working on some subconscious, instinctual level. It was fine, he was too horny to be embarrassed. 

“Such a good boy,” Nico breathed, situating himself right up behind him and he dragged the protected head of his cock between George’s cheeks, “You still want this?”

“Yeah…” George exhaled, feeling like he had tv static in his brain, he was chalked so full of anticipation, “Just go slow.”

“Of course,” Nico rested his left hand on the small of his back while his other angled himself to press against his hole, “you know I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you, Georgie.”

“Mm…” George bit his bottom lip.

The woman beneath him still held two hands on his ass to keep him open, staring up at him with comfort in her gaze. She spoke to him in a smiling whisper, “Deep breaths…just relax…it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhm,” Nico agreed as he slowly started to press himself into him, “you’re nice and prepped too…all lubed up and everything…”

George’s fingers tightened around the bedsheets and at first he swore he was about to claw up the bed at the pressure that filled him, inch by steady inch. It was the strangest sensation he could ever attempt at describing. It wasn’t necessarily painful but it sure was unlike anything else he could ever think of comparing it to. His eyelids fluttered and he let out a short, shaky breath.

“There you go…” his sweet grid girl praised under her breath, “Nice and easy…”

Nico’s hands gripped his hips in a firm grasp as he bottomed out and he groaned out the most erotic sounding, “Fuck, George—”

George could have come right then and there, hearing him like that—hearing him moan his name like that. And once he slowly started to move, rocking into him in short, cautious thrusts, George’s eyes nearly rolled. 

“Jesus Christ—” George choked out, hanging his head, almost forehead to forehead with the woman beneath him, “Feels so big…”

She ran her hands up and down his back, holding onto him warmly, asking with a smiling, “How’s that?”

“So..fucking good,” George mumbled as if he were drunk, his words a little slurred. 

“Yeah, you like that?” Nico purred, voice thick with lust, his fingers kneading into the flesh of George’s hips with his pelvis pressed against his ass, “You like being filled?”

“Uh huh,” George stumbled out. 

His eyes were struggling to stay open with the overwhelm of it all; being buried inside a beautiful woman and having an equally as beautiful man inside him at the same time. It was unreal. He had always thought taking anal would be incredibly uncomfortable and painful but, to his pleasant surprise, he truly never knew it would ever feel this good.

From behind him, Nico slowly started to ease out, only about halfway, before sinking into him again in a gentle, slow, testing push. George’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip through a muted groan at the slick friction, subconsciously pushing back into him at the same time. 

“Shit,” Nico moaned handsomely, starting to thrust into him a little more consistently, a little faster. 

George gasped tightly, his slender fingers curling into the sheets on either side of the woman’s head, still trapped on top of her (and inside her). His eyebrows were furrowed as if in concentration, focusing on every ounce of sensation that this night was offering, feeling every inch of his teammate’s cock stretching him out. George withered, his scrunched expression melting into pure, erotic pleasure as the seconds passed and, soon, his expression was straight out of a cheesy pornography magazine.

George’s eyes were closed so peacefully, long lashes resting against flushed cheeks, a low, warm moan falling from his chest as the slick sound of bodies filled the room. Nico was setting a good pace, fucking into him enough to have the steady clap of skin joining in the lewd harmony with the squelch of lube, and George swore he was in fucking heaven.

With a needy whine, George pushed back on him again, meeting his strokes with a quivering, “Ooh, fuck yeah.”

“That’s it,” Nico exhaled thickly, pulling a hand back to slap down crisply against George’s ass without stalling his movements, “good boy.”

The woman beneath him let out a little moan of her own as his shifting had his cock starting to thrust into her in messy, shallow motions, finally giving her some friction that she had been deprived of while patiently waiting for him to get comfortable. Her fingers grasped George’s back and her trimmed nails dug into his muscle, staring up at him with nothing but lust in her eyes and across her expression. With the way he moved, she was burning for more and he could feel it in the way her hands were pawing at his back, almost like she didn’t want to appear too needy but couldn’t hold it back anymore.

When he fluttered his eyes open again to meet her gaze, she barely had to say a word before he was leaning down and taking her lips with his in a filthy kiss. It was made messy by his ungraceful movements on top of her, torn between wanting to focus on fucking himself back on Nico or fucking himself forward into her. George moaned into her mouth between sloppy kisses and the fingers of one of his hands tangled into the roots of her hair in a snug grip. 

A few seconds later, George broke away from her lips as Nico slowed his thrusts to a stop. Desperate to keep feeling that intense pleasure, George pushed himself back on him a little harder, a little faster, ultimately causing himself to fuck into the beautiful woman beneath him at the same time. Nico shuffled closer so George didn’t have to move too much, allowing him to be buried nice and deep inside his grid girl while still properly taking his teammate’s dick, letting him set his own pace and, ultimately, do all the work. 

George choked over a needy groan, not caring how pathetic he must have sounded as his hands pressed hard into the mattress and he let his instinctual desire take over, shoving hard into the woman beneath him and letting himself recoil back against Nico’s cock. The three of them were a mess of panted breaths and pleasured sounds; the luxurious Monte Carlo bedroom rising in heat and housing the lewd harmonies. 

“Fuck!” the woman gasped from the bottom of the trio, her legs tucked around George’s thighs, “You’re so fucking deep, holy shit—”

George’s jaw clenched for a moment, trying to hold himself back through the way she squeezed around him and how her nails dragged across his back. She truly sounded like he was fucking every sound from her chest, matching the pace of his sloppy thrusts even with his limited range of motion with Nico still so close behind him. The woman reached a hand down to rub at her clit, arching against the bed with a cry to the ceiling. 

The feeling of Nico’s hand on his shoulder startled George out of his reverie for a moment but he didn’t falter for long, far too drunk on the euphoria to stop. Nico spanked him again with his other hand, still knelt motionless to let George do all the work. A true mentor; making sure his mentee knew the ropes. 

“Look at you, Georgie,” Nico praised warmly, spanking him again, “such a little slut, aren’t you?”

George let out some sound that sounded equally like a moan and a whimper and something like choking on air. How was this real life? He felt like this was some out of body experience or some really fucked up wet dream and any second now he would wake up in his driver’s room with sticky shorts and a nagging dread that Nico heard him moaning in his sleep through the thin walls of the motorhome. 

That definitely hadn’t happened before…

But here, now, that dreamy fantasy that George had once tried so hard to suppress was all too real and feeling all too good. 

“Always such a good boy,” Nico praised on, his hand firmly gripping George’s shoulder and undoubtedly watching the way his ass jiggled with every collision of their slick bodies, “what would you twenty-year-old self think if he saw you now? Little Williams Racing protégé…never properly thanked me for giving you my seat.”

He was only teasing and George knew that—he knew Nico well enough by that point—but the words still stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was almost as if Nico knew that his younger self idolized him to the point of guilt-ridden infatuation. Truly, honestly, what would younger George think if he saw what was happening now?

It was hard to think about with the state of putty his brain was in; molten from the pleasure and exertion of the moment. George was still going at it like it was a race of his own, feeling that all too familiar hunger for a win. He wanted to fucking come so bad.

It certainly didn’t help that the woman beneath him—who he had been fantasizing about since the first race of the damn calendar that year—was all but crying on his cock, writhing and moaning and gasping and doing everything he elaborately imagined. Why was this night suddenly his subconscious come to life?! Not that he was complaining by any means but he was certainly going to need a good few days to process this. 

“Don’t stop! Fuck, I’m gonna come!” his beautiful grid girl cried out, eyes screwed shut and head tossed back, her hair splayed out across the wrinkled bed sheets, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s it, keep going,” Nico encouraged him with another swat of his ass, “Make her come. Make her come all over your cock.”

“Fucking…Christ…” George groaned through his teeth, desperately holding himself back as her pussy squeezed tightly around him with her impending orgasm. 

She looked a vision when she came, falling perfectly silent as she gaped to the ceiling and her body shuddered and tremoured beneath him. George desperately tried to keep going, grinding insistently into her to work her through it. And then, her hands flew up to grab his waist as she gasped out of it, a dreamy smile coming to her face with a gasping, “Oh, fuck.”

George dipped right down to swallow up her lips in a kiss, sharing hungry breathless kisses as she slung her arms around his shoulders. Nico’s hands rubbed down his back and, with his younger teammate momentarily distracted, slowly pulled out of him. George broke away from the woman’s wet kiss to glance over his shoulder at him in protest. 

He didn’t need to say a word before Nico was explaining coolly, “I want to look at your face when I make you come.”

George barely had a second to process those words before the woman beneath him was wriggling out from under him. The bed squeaked faintly with the ungraceful scramble of three to switch positions until George had taken her place in the centre of the bed on his back and she was situating herself beside him. His cock was still so hard that it was angled right up against his pelvis, swollen red and leaking all over the thin line of downy hair that stretched up to his navel. Nico, still, was kneeling between George’s legs and he grabbed the backs of his knees to push his legs up towards his chest. 

George groaned tightly at the unexpected stretch with his body nearly folded in half. Nico soothed him with an easy and reassuring, “I know how much you can bend. I see you stretching in the gym.”

The awareness that Nico had seen him in the gym had George’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip. No, he hadn’t just seen him and been present and helped him out, he had taken notice. George couldn’t help but wrap his hands around the backs of his thighs to pull his legs farther back. 

“Oh my God, someone’s eager,” Nico chuckled almost darkly at his obvious eagerness. 

Normally, George might have offered some cheeky rebuttal, leaning into that comfortable banter between him and his teammate. But, instead, he had a very firm one track mind. With a bat of his lashes and a pathetic pout, George could only spill out a, “Please. Please put it back in.”

He might have been drunk on pure, raw need, but he still noticed the way Nico’s expression flickered with a sense of carnal lust at that simple beg. Then, the older man shuffled closer on his knees to position himself right between George’s legs, angling the protected head of his cock against his gaping hole. 

“Yeah, please, Nico, please…” George rambled wetly, fingers tightening their grip on the back of his own legs as he watched intently. 

From beside them, the well fucked woman reached out with the bottle of lube in hand and dribbled more onto the head of Nico’s cock and right over George’s perineum, watching it drip downwards. Nico smeared it in with his dick and then slowly pressed back inside him. 

George’s eyelashes fluttered as he stared up at him, his breath coming out in a wavering, “Oh fuck.”

“Mm, that’s it,” Nico groaned lowly, sinking into him all the way until his balls were pressed against the curve of George’s ass. 

“Mhm,” George bit his lip harder at the realization of just how close they were, buzzing through every nerve ending in every spot where his skin touched Nico’s. It was red hot. And now, being laid out on his back, George had a front row view to watch what Nico looked like when he fucked him. 

Almost right away, Nico was finding his pace again with his hands pressed firmly on the backs of George’s thighs to keep him bent in half. With his breath halting in his throat for a moment, all George could hear was the sloppy squelch of the lube with every firm thrust from his teammate, creating a dizzying rhythm. His aching cock bounced against his pelvis, still wrapped in the condom that was smeared in creamy streaks from the beautiful woman he had just made come moments earlier. 

George inhaled sharply, and without thinking, he reached out and set his hands on Nico’s chest as if to ground himself.

“Yeah, good boy,” Nico praised breathily as he kept thrusting into him, “taking every inch of me.”

George slid his hands down his chest, shamelessly touching him in all the ways he had pretended he didn’t want to right down to his waist where he pressed his fingers into his pale flesh as if to help tug him into his every movement. It was wholly erotic and George could feel his toes curling as his head arched back against the pillows.

“Sh-Shit, Nico—” George let his name slip from his lips in a whimper of pleasure. He let go of his teammate’s body to, instead, grab the back of his own knees to hold himself spread.

“There you go, Georgie,” Nico purred, wrapping his hands firmly around George’s ankles, “Take it.”

From beside them, the woman had been watching intently, not wanting to interrupt. Now that they had found their pace, she moved in. Her hand took George’s place on Nico’s chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the slight sheen of sweat under palm, and she leaned in to kiss his jaw. Without faltering, Nico turned his head to accept her lips on his, kissing her lewdly while still fucking into George. 

“F-Fuck,” George stumbled out, watching the two most gorgeous people he knew make out right in front of him. 

He felt like he couldn’t get enough. Of anything and everything. The only word his brain could think of was ‘more, more, more’. And, since he was so well past the point of no return on his shame or dignity, he let himself say it outwardly. 

“More,” it came out like a raspy croak, breaking in his throat like he was barely pubescent, “Please, more.”

Nico and his beautiful grid girl broke apart and, in the light of the bedroom, George could see the hairline string of spit breaking between their lips as they pulled away. He stared up at his teammate as if he wasn’t sure if he had even said those words out loud. 

“Needy fucking boy, aren’t you?” Nico chastised lightly, proving that he had, and then fucked into him a little harder until the clap of their skin got louder, “Always wanting all the attention.”

“Ohfuckyeahplease,” George heaved at the change in intensity, staring up into Nico’s handsome face with a blue-eyed stare that could melt ice. His eyebrows were peaked in just the right place to make him look as if he were in a state of awe, his lips pouted with a blubbering, “Please, please…just like that.”

“Such good manners,” the woman cooed as she rolled the used condom off his dick. He wasn’t even sure where she put it before she was leaning down and lifting his cock up from his abs and wrapping her swollen lips around him. 

George, incredibly sensitive, had his eyes fucking rolling at that added sensation, one hand flying to the back of her neck and his other splaying across the sheets for something to hold onto. She sucked on his cock at the same pace as Nico fucked him, sending George’s head spinning. 

“Ho-ly shit,” George withered. His head arched back against the bed with a choked gasp, “Holy ffffuck—”

Nico’s grip on his ankles tightened, his firm gaze sweeping between watching himself fuck into his younger teammate and staring at the expressions that painted George’s face. Flushed and horny, George was in a complete daze and barely unable to keep his eyes open although he tried. 

The bed creaked under Nico’s every sharp thrust and he held George’s legs back farther so he could get a better angle. George crooned erotically at the stretch up his thighs (and deep inside him) and his hand on the back of the woman’s head kept her swallowing down his cock at the same time. She moaned and gagged around him, draped half on top of him to get herself facing down between his bent and wide open legs while Nico held control. 

George writhed and moaned, sheets curled in his fingers with his other hand tangling in the back of her hair. He stared up at Nico the best he could no matter how much his eyes wanted to shut with the intensity of it all. He could barely offer a pleading little nod, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, mouthing a broken, “Yes…”

“Yes?” Nico echoed out loud, his eyebrows raising without a falter of his motions. 

The woman lifted her head up from between George’s legs with a spitty gasp and cough, blinking herself back to reality for a moment before leaning in to kiss along Nico’s happy trail as he kept fucking into the whimpering man beneath him. When she moved back, she readjusted herself beside George and leaned down to kiss his neck instead and he couldn’t help the frown that came to his face as the rising intensity tapered with the loss of her mouth on his dick. 

His arm was still lazily around her, hand cupping her bare shoulder as if to keep her from leaving his side. Not that she was planning on it because the way she was kissing and licking and sucking over his neck and collarbones made it very clear she was very happy where she was. George tilted his head back to give her room to kiss up the column of his neck and she licked over his Adam's apple and nipped at his jaw. 

Nico let out a tight groan, “You feel so good, Georgie.”

George couldn’t answer behind the beautiful woman’s tongue helping itself to his mouth. His lips smacked wetly with hers despite the way his body jostled slightly with every firm thrust from the man above him, his slick cock bouncing. He was so fucking hard and so turned on that he was leaking all over his abs, smearing sticky precum across his flushed skin, and he just had to reach down to touch himself. 

He barely got a hand around his dick before Nico was swatting his hand away to do it himself. Nico matched the pace of his relentless thrusts with his hand pumping George’s cock, giving him that glorious added stimulation that he had been craving. 

“Ah!” George all but squeaked, breaking away from the kiss, “Nico! Fuck! Don’t stop!”

“Not gonna stop,” Nico promised breathily, his voice a velvety purr. His hand stroked him off, made easily slick by the combination of spit, precum, and the presence of lube that seemed to be covering almost every part of their bodies. Then, he adjusted his position just a little more, pushing into him just a little more straight-on, and like the flip of a switch, George’s entire body turned boneless.

“Ohh-hh-hh—” George withered, eyes rolling shut, “Fuck-ing— yes, right there—”

He could hear the sweet giggle of the woman beside him, barely recognizing the heat of her hand on his chest or her lips attaching themselves to his neck again, fingers swirling over his hardened nipples. The feeling of Nico drilling right into his fucking prostate had tears burning in George’s eyes and one trailed down his flushed cheek. George couldn’t lay still. Nico held a firm grip on his ankle to keep him from getting too far, fucking him into submission on his king size bed and expensive sheets. 

It was fine, though, really. George felt too much like the personification of putty to really move, the logical part of his brain that was desperately clinging onto this newfound pleasure refusing to let him wiggle away from this. Nothing had felt quite like this before. 

He felt as though the heat was rising in his body, a sizzling warmth pumping through his veins and swelling through his cock as it throbbed in Nico’s hand. George’s hands flew to the sides, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white, trying to steady his breathing with how fast and desperate it was coming now. 

“Oh, look at you,” the woman praised him angelically, her words echoing in his ears. 

“Nnngh—” was the only sound George could manage to get out as his body slowly but surely grew into tension. He desperately tried to keep his eyes open, staring up at Nico above him and the way his jaw was clenched in concentration. The pad of Nico’s thumb grazed over the underside of the head of his cock with every firm stroke and George could feel himself getting closer by the second.

“Come on,” Nico said through his teeth, keeping his firm pace going, “That’s it.”

“I’m gonna come…” George managed out in the most pathetic whimper known to man, making him sound like was about to sob. “Please…please, Nico, please, please—”

“That’s it, Georgie,” Nico praised. “Be a good boy and come for me.”

George had never felt the build up like this before. Sure, it had always been an overwhelming feeling but, now, he felt almost beside himself with the intensity…and it just kept building and building. His breaths were growing more and more jagged, laced in with moans and anticipatory whimpers that grew pitchier, fists tugging at the sheets with his bottom lip lodged between his teeth as he stared up at Nico. 

When the build up reached its peak, George’s eyelids fluttered erotically like he was being fucking posessed and his breath caught in his throat, body tensing for a split second as if he had hit a brick wall. Everything halted. 

Much to his surprise, the first shot of cum streaked right up to land across his cheek. 

Quickly, it was followed by a second that landed across his lips. 

George couldn’t even react to the fact that he just came so hard that he came on his own face as he felt like he had lost complete control of his body as his orgasm tore through him. He was sent into pleasured convulsions as Nico fucked him through it and kept stroking him off at the same time. More thick spurts came out, albeit more tame than the initial few, painting up George’s chest and abs in ribbons after ribbons as he sobbed out his teammate’s name with a voice filled with nothing but pure eroticism. 

He sounded like a fucking pornstar as he gasped and moaned and cried through it. George, in all his hazy euphoric glory, swore it was never going to end; the intense waves of pleasure just kept rolling through him in a seemingly never-ending progression. It truly felt like he was experiencing an orgasm for the first time all over again. Unreal. 

Nico let go of George’s cock in a hurried motion as he pulled out of him and rolled off the condom. He barely had it tossed to the side before his hand was taking its place around his dick and he gave himself a few desperate pumps. In seconds, he was coming too, streaking right up George’s abs, mixing in with his own mess of cum, and the last few drops painted the shaft of George’s softening cock. 

George had barely had his wits about him to properly appreciate Nico’s face and sounds when he came; merely hearing the echo of his moans somewhere in the haze as he shuddered on his bed and let him come all over him. Blinking away the tears from his eyes as his orgasm finally tapered off into that post-euphoria buzz, George’s eyes was honed in on Nico’s flushed face and pleasured expression, watching as the older man dragged two fingers through his cum on George’s abs and then lifted his fingers.

George, as if driven by instinct, let his swollen lips part and let him slide his cum-covered fingers into his mouth. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nico’s gaze, staring up at him as he sucked on his fingers and licked them clean. The slightly salty taste startled his taste buds but there was almost an underlying hint of sweetness that had George shamelessly enjoying it. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was Nico’s cum he was being fed, by the hand of the man himself, after near years of suppressing his strange desire for just that. 

Nico pulled his fingers from George's mouth and then dragged his wet fingertips over his spitty lips, gathering up some of his own cum to then push back in against his tongue. With a breathless purr, Nico praised him, “Good boy…cleaning up your mess without a single complaint out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

George hummed around his fingers, eyelashes heavy and fluttering. When Nico pulled his fingers back out, a thin string of spit broke between his fingertips and George’s pouted lips. The woman beside them, who had been watching the whole ordeal with a front row seat, moved in to clean up the rest without a word. 

Once her lips met George’s cheek in an open mouthed kiss, his hand blindly raised to rest around her bicep as she leaned in and started to kiss and lick up the cum that was still streaked across his cheek and smeared around his lips. The two of them soon melted into slow, sloppy kisses, breathless and wanton, almost more tongue than anything else. 

When she pulled away, she swiped the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip and George draped an arm above his head with a breathy sigh as his eyes fell closed. He swallowed thickly as he caught his barings, melting into the comfortable mattress beneath him.

And then, with a tone taking on a bit more seriousness, Nico asked him, “You okay?”

George nodded, dazed, “Mhm.”

“Yeah?” Nico chuckled warmly, his hands rubbing up and down the outsides of George’s thighs that still framed him, easing him out of his pleasure, “You took it like a fucking champion.”

“You really did,” the woman agreed with a hint of pride in her voice.

“Fuck,” George croaked out, his voice suddenly so rough that he had to clear his throat. His eyes fluttered open again to look up at the two beautiful people knelt over him, his gaze drifting to Nico as he replied cheekily, “Yeah, you reckon we’re both champions now then?”

The trio shared breathy laughter. 

The woman draped herself out beside George on the large bed and his arm naturally went around her, pulling her close as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her temple. Nico shifted off the bed, announcing he was going to get a damp cloth to help clean them up and they let him go. Comfortable in the presence of his beautiful grid girl, George, at the same time, felt a strange emptiness as Nico disappeared around the corner and into the ensuite bathroom.

She tilted her head back against George’s arm to meet his gaze, bringing him back to their moment with a playful, “Quite the first date then, hm?”

George’s expression broke into a handsome grin and he offered a lighthearted eyeroll and a, “You can say that again.”

“Mm, I was surprised you asked me out, honestly,” she stated casually.

“Really?” George glanced at her. Her cheeks were still rouged from the remnants of their escapades. “Why?”

“Because it was always painfully clear that you had eyes for Nico.” 

She answered like it was nothing more than a declaration of the weather. George shivered.

Before he could even figure out what to reply with, Nico returned to the room. With him, he carried three warm, damp cloths and the trio shared the responsibility of cleaning themselves and each other up, wiping away sweat and lube and cum from their flushed skin. Then, laying together in a euphoric tangle all together on Nico’s expensive bed sheets, nude, George was blissfully in the middle. 

No one spoke for a moment; simply catching their bearings. George stared at the ceiling. 

After a moment, he worked up enough courage to turn his head to the right to look at Nico. He was already looking back at him. 

Nico’s lips pricked up at the corner in a small smirk and he took the initiative to lift his hand up to press the pad of his thumb against the corner of George’s lips, “You have a bit of—”

George stayed still, staring at him, as he wiped a bit of cum from the corner of his mouth. 

George’s mind was spinning. Did he always have such thoughts about Nico because he felt protected by him? Just held him on a pedestal because Nico was the one who took him under his wing and helped him develop into the driver and title contender he was? Or was there more to it? As he laid there, naked, in Nico’s bed, it felt equal parts terrifying and improper and, yet, as if it were right where he was meant to be. 

There was so much still unsaid between the three of them as the night dragged on, logistics and meanings behind their night together needing to be discussed. There was a lot George needed to wrap his mind around, having to figure out where he stood with both parties and what his own reflection of self looked like moving forward. It wasn’t all going to be figured out in one night. So, for now, he let himself simply take the moments as they came. 

Technicalities could be smoothed over later. It wasn’t a race. Besides, he had the upcoming season to focus on and prepare for, in which he would be taking the position of first driver. He had big shoes to fill. 

And eventually, a year later, with two races still left in the season and forty-six points ahead of the runner up, George Russell won his first World Championship. 

He went over to Nico’s to celebrate.

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[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: UCLA was a long time ago. Jessie couldn't bring herself to make a move back then and missed her chance. But now that you're back in her life, maybe things can be different.

Warning: None

A/N: A bit more fluff for y'all! And sorry for flooding the Jessie tags. I’ve got a bunch of fics just sitting around!

"Jessie?"

Jessie turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Y/N. Y/N L/N. The girl she'd pined over at UCLA; who her friends had relentlessly made fun of her for liking and never pursuing; the girl who still showed up in idle daydreams from time to time, even all these years later.

"I heard you were playing in town now. Oh my gosh - it's been so long. I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."

Here you were standing in front of her. Smiling at her. Instead of being the...relatively...confident person Jessie now was - she was national team captain, a gold medal athlete, for goodness sake - she wasn't a young girl anymore hiding behind textbooks and her friends, instead though, she felt her cheeks burn hot and her words got caught in her throat. She stood there staring speechless at you.

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," you said, a hint of apprehension beginning to cast over you.

Finally, Jessie began to react. She closed her eyes briefly in hopes of resetting, shaking her head and allowing herself to smile.

"Of course I do," she finally managed, only stammering slightly. "I mean, I recognize you. Of course."

"Okay." You let out a small laugh of relief. "For a second I thought worldwide athletic stardom made you forget your favourite lab partner."

"Of course not," Jessie readily assured you. "I'd never forget you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw as she reprimanded herself internally for imploding so quickly and after so much time. She cut herself some slack when you smiled again at her.

"That's comforting to hear. Well, I mean, I know you're just leaving," you gestured to the door of the coffee shop, "but, um, I don't know." You laughed nervously before settling on what to say. You offered her a resolute nod. "It was nice to see you again."

Jessie's mind whirled with ideas and options. Anything coming out of her mouth now was mere instinct.

"Nice to see you too. Um, I don't know, maybe we could chat sometime? Are you in Portland too?"

"Yeah, I work at a logistics firm in town." You cracked a smirk. "Not nearly as glamorous as being a national icon, but you know, I do my part."

Jessie chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.

"If you call 4 am wake-up calls, jet lag, and bruises to high heaven glamourous, then sure, I guess it is."

"Sounds not too unfamiliar from your UCLA days," you teased. "I still remember when you showed up to class with a black eye. And I see you've healed fine from your recent one."

Jessie blushed. So you watched her games? And you remembered moments from uni.

You'd been friends in university, but that's all it ever was. Her friends had goaded her again and again to ask you out, but Jessie could never work up the courage. She'd doubted herself too much. And then before she knew it she'd lost her chance. You dated other girls and that was the end of it. She stepped back and time ticked on.

You remained close friends throughout uni, sharing deep conversations, hopes and fears, silly moments, too. There were moments where Jessie felt hope starting to blossom in her chest - that maybe you had feelings for her, but she'd stamp it out. She’d just be setting herself up for disappointment.

After you both graduated, that was it. She'd gone off to London and you fell out of touch. It was for the best really. Well, maybe.

"Anyway," you started again, drawing Jessie back from her thoughts. "Sure, I'd love to catch up. I'd say I'll message you on Instagram, but I know your social media is a black hole. I can give you my number if you like."

Jessie gave you a tight-lipped smile as she scratched the back of her head and let her gaze fall to the bulletin of flyers instead.

"Yeah, I'm not much for social media."

"I know," you chuckled. "You never were."

Jessie cleared her throat and looked back to you. "And sure, what's your number?"

She almost missed you telling her because her mind drifted back to class when you reached over and scribbled your number on the top corner of her paper and told her to text you about the reading. Jessie’s words had died in her throat and she had to settle for merely offering you a delayed nod as you gathered up your books and left. She’d felt light on her feet, nearly dizzy even, all day. Her hands had shaken when she texted you and her palms were clammy as she awaited your response.

That was a lifetime ago. But now here you were, and number newly confirmed. Jessie tucked her phone away in her pocket.

"Okay, I'll let you go," you told her. "And truly, if you aren't up to a chat of any kind - no pressure. You probably have so many people vying for your time. I won't be offended." You said with true earnest. "In case I don't see you again, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'd say I'm impressed, but A) that goes without saying, and B) I always knew you were going to do great things. I told you time and time again. Anyway, it was so good to see you. Take care."

Before Jessie could respond, you'd turned and disappeared to the other side of the shop and into the line. She forced herself to turn and leave.

The door had barely closed behind her when she opened her phone and pulled up her messages with Teagan.

"You will NEVER guess who I just ran into."

-----

"Hi Y/N. It's Jessie. UCLA."

"Lol the one and only. How are you?"

"Well forgive me for not assuming that you would know who a random 'Jessie' is lol. I'm doing well, thanks. How are you?"

"You were always very humble. It was always very endearing, so I'm glad to see you haven't lost that. I'm doing well. Working late. Some of my vendors are shitting the bed, so I'm scrambling to find alternatives."

"Seriously? That sounds brutal. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel better, the team had to run extra drills today because of how bad our last game was."

"It's the start of the season - lots of new players. Chemistry takes time. You guys will find your groove soon. I'm positive. How is Portland treating you, by the way? I'd love to hear more about your time in London too at some point."

"Well, if you still want to grab coffee, I can tell you all about it. And I want to hear about you too. Did you ever make it to the Ghibli museum?"

"Oh my gosh lolol. You remember that. And yes! I did. And it was amazing. And coffee would be amazing, too :)"

Jessie belatedly realized that she was smiling as you texted back and forth. It was an odd feeling - it was strange to be talking with you again, yet entirely natural.

To her surprise, you ended up texting every day until you met up Sunday afternoon. She'd mentioned to Teagan that you two had this scheduled and soon Jessie was hit with an onslaught of messages from all her Bruins mates stepping right back into form and teasing her.

On a scale from 1-10, how red did you blush? And why was it 20.

Can I finally tell her you mumbled her name in your sleep? Several times?

Please tell me you immediately pulled out a vision board with her face all over it.

LOL the universe said, “Think you’ve suffered enough pining for this girl? Think you’re over her? Guess again!”

She still hot? Send pics.

Jessie sat in her car down the street from the coffee shop and essentially gave herself a stern, mental talking to about your get together. She was not who she was 5 years ago, and neither were you. She didn't need to be so nervous. There were no stakes at all, she could just relax, be in the moment, and reconnect with an old friend.

When she stepped into the coffee shop, her pulse picked up just so when she saw you seated at a table, but thankfully by the time she sat she'd composed herself again.

"The good news is, the rain is nothing new to me after being in London," she joked as she swept some rain off her baseball cap.

You looked up from your phone and a large smile crossed your face.

"Yeah, I hear you. And what's going on - how did we both go from sunny LA to rain central?"

Not entirely surprising, conversation flowed easily between you two. And it wasn't all reminiscing and nostalgia, it was easy to talk about current things as well. Pretty soon, you were both at the ends of your second cups of coffee and yet neither of you made a move to leave.

"So, um, you've been in Portland for a while now," the ease Jessie had felt faltered some as she broached a topic she'd been highly curious about, "did [y/gf] come with you?"

You screwed up your face and laughed.

"No," you answered easily. "We broke up like a couple of months after convocation. Let's be real - that was never going to last."

"Oh," Jessie replied, surprise showing on her face at how readily you dismissed the notion. "I had no idea. I thought you two were solid."

"Well," you drained the last bit of your drink, "I guess I wasn't entirely forthcoming then. Sure, things were okay. But, I was lying to myself if I thought that was going to be a 'forever' kind of relationship." Jessie's look of surprise lingered and you rolled your eyes, leaning in. "Jessie. She'd get distracted every time she walked by a mirror. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. Her full on checking herself out anytime she caught her reflection?"

Jessie sat back and gave you a brief look of disbelief, shaking her head. "I tried not to notice."

"Smart," you retorted good naturedly. "She was nice, and we had fun, but beyond our values not exactly aligning, an equal partnership it was not."

"Well, okay, she's out of the picture. You must be with someone new, then," Jessie went on. She ignored the twinge in her chest when you shook your head 'no'. Just as quickly, she scolded herself. Why would it matter? She was getting way ahead of herself here. She supposed that old habits - and evidently dormant feelings - died hard.

"No. I mean, I dated a couple of girls since I've been here, but nothing's really stuck." You looked up from your drink to Jessie. "Now, superstar, you have to tell me your update."

Jessie mouth contracted into a tight smile and she felt her cheeks begin to burn under the scrutiny.

"That's confidential," she quipped.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and leaned forward. "That is so not fair." Jessie remained smugly silent and merely shrugged. You let out an exasperated sigh and slouched back in your chair. "Fine," you relented not wanting to push too much. "You were always tight-lipped in university, too. You could've had anyone and you - as far as I know," you said pointedly, "didn't date anyone."

"Oh come on." Jessie now rolled her eyes. "I was so shy and quiet. Even if I'd liked someone I would've never gotten up the courage to ask them out." She felt a buzzing in her head as she watched your reaction. You smiled sweetly.

"You were shy and quiet, yes. But you opened up once you were comfortable. I mean, look at us, look at you with your teammates. And you were so smart, incredibly sweet, and pretty, and you had that dry sense of humour. And, hello, captain of the football team!"

"Co-captain," Jessie interjected pointedly. You hung your head briefly with a laugh.

"I repeat - you could've had anyone."

Jessie subconsciously fidgeted with her hat and planted her feet further apart as she shifted down in her chair. "Well, didn't seem that way at the time."

"Wait - so who did you like?" You probed.

"No one," Jessie retorted, her features scrunching up as she played off the question dismissively. "I barely had time to breathe. There was no way I could date someone."

"You are so cagey sometimes," you said lightly, not being able to resist ribbing her once more. "Fine, so, what about now? Are you seeing someone?"

Jessie's composure was long gone and her face burned hot as your interrogation got her flustered. She took a subtle breath and worked to calm herself.

"No, no one's caught my eye just yet," she relayed.

You studied Jessie, discerning whether to drop the topic or not. You eventually relented as you crossed your arms and reclined in your chair.

"Well, I imagine that's not easy. There's a lot to live up to. And you're surrounded by impressive people every day, so the bar's gotta be high. Again, you can have your pick."

You grabbed your phone and looked it over quickly.

"I need to get going. I have a few errands to run still before the weekend's over," you said, a hint of regret in your voice before you offered a smile. "I had a great time though. It was so good to catch up with you."

Jessie removed her hat, running her fingers through her hair briefly before pulling the cap back down on her head.

"Yeah, I had a great time, too."

For the first time this conversation, a small lull formed and neither of you jumped to bridge it. Eventually, Jessie cleared her throat.

"Maybe we could get together again. Coffee. A drink. Whatever, really."

A mild look of surprise crossed your face, puzzling Jessie.

"Sure, I'd like that," you told her warmly as you shrugged on your jacket.

"Okay." Jessie gave you a small smile as she, too, rose from the table. "Will you be at the game next weekend?"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I could be." You smirked.

"No pressure," Jessie said as she felt that old nervousness begin to bubble up. "I could get you tickets if you ever want to go. That's all."

You smiled, looking at her in appreciation. "I'll have to take you up on that."

Jessie chuckled, but gave you a pointed look. "Honestly, you don't have to. I know you weren't a big soccer fan even in university."

"But," you started, drawing the word out and returning her pointed look, "I started going to games after becoming friends with a certain someone. I just haven't had a reason to go to a Thorns games yet."

Jessie resisted her impending blush and instead crossed her arms loosely in front of her, shifting her weight to one leg. "Okay, just let me know," Jessie said. She gave you a small nod. "And I promise these games are even better than Bruins ones."

You cocked your head, a hint of a smile on your face as you lifted a finger to your lips and narrowed your eyes in mock contemplation.

"What are they calling you these days? Midfield Maestro?"

Somehow, Jessie didn't even feel the urge to blush. Instead, she gave you a cocky smirk.

"So you really have been following my career."

She nearly grinned at how your cheeks flushed pink and you broke eye contact. You only took a moment to compose yourself and look back to Jessie with a half smirk.

"Hard not to," you simply said.

Jessie relented, feeling like she'd teased you enough. For now. She smiled and spoke earnestly.

"Offer stands - if you wants tickets, just let me know. Regardless, let's get together soon."

"Deal," you told her, your blush slowly fading.

There was a brief moment of stillness and uncertainty before you stepped forward and pulled Jessie into a hug. It only took her a moment to relax into it, her arms wrapping around you. Even though your body felt different now - so was hers - it felt natural to hold you close again.

You stayed like that for several moments, surprise and tampered excitement filling Jessie when you tightened your embrace before letting go. She noted the renewed colour on your cheeks when you stepped back.

"Text me?" You asked.

Jessie nodded. "Of course."

A\N: Part Two is available here.

[finnfrei]

I would love to hear more about your bard and her dragonborn 🥺👉👈

Aww, thank you so much for asking! Tbh, I always feel shy sharing the stories of my OCs, so I really appreciate your interest🩵

Where do I even begin? (Also, English is not my first or even second language, so I apologize for my poor writing in advance).

Clio is my changeling bard from our current homebrew DnD campaign and she’s the little ray of sunshine, who’s hiding her trauma behind a cheerful innocent smile. Or at least she used to be up until the party’s current adventure in Avernus. Quite early in life she realized how easy it is to lure secrets from people, when you look cute and play dumb.

Once she set out on an adventure with the party, she had a dream. A charming stranger in a dragon mask at a ball challenged her to play a complex composition. Non of what she saw on the music sheet he gave her made sense, it couldn’t sound good. But Clio was not the one to fuck around with and she started playing, struggling at first, but getting the grip of it. As the music played, the dirty secrets of people in the room started to reveal themselves to her overflowing her mind. The man asked her to meet him in the house of upper city where the party was headed.

That was how she met him, the man in the mask wasn’t a man she saw in the dream, but an emerald Dragonborn. Hescan was a commander of Secret Police and Master of College of Whispers. This tough mountain of muscles with cold gaze and devious grin was barely showing any genuine emotions. It felt familiar, she’s so used to putting on a mask herself, different ones, but still. He played cool and unbothered. Some even might say he looked dangerous, but Clio had met dangerous, cruel men way too many times before and wasn’t so easily fooled by him. She found it adorable on him. The feeling of safety around him puzzled her. He suggested her to work for him, collecting information, dragging skeletons out of others closets. She thought it would be fun to finally get paid for something she does anyway, never taking the job too seriously though. And well, girl asked for the direction of the nearest brothel, hoping to get some intelligence from local prostitutes, knowing full well about the amount of secrets kept by all the creatures, who aren’t taken seriously by rich and powerful. However, the dragonborn jokingly suggested her his bedroom. Joke got out of control. Bards being bards, I guess.

It all started with both of them trying to get intimate, “have fun” just to let down the other’s guard to get under their skin and lure more secrets from each other. Learn each other’s weaknesses, but also trying to secure the other’s loyalty. Hescan was playing cool and distant, meanwhile Clio was taunting him any time she saw an opportunity, shamelessly trying the limits of his patience. She liked to call him “pretty boy” and only called him “chief” in jest, he knew it also turned her on.

Eventually the more they learned the more they started to genuinely care about one another. They both knew what it was like feeling your body, your boundaries violated, used for someone else’s sick whims. They found comfort, they knew they were safe with each other, even if just for the night. Although they both had a hard time admitting it. After all it would mean to admit they had lost the game.

Now with a few years passed, they still have hard time fully trusting each other, given their occupation. She still makes fun of him, he finds it cute. He knows he can rely on her, so as she does.

There were so many sweet and funny moments between these two and to be honest the scenes where they admitted their feelings to each other, letting down their guards, live rent free in my mind.

[arc-misadventures]

MFK: Jaune and FATE servants.

Jaune: MFK XVII

Nora: NORA!

Jaune: ...

Nora: ...

Jaune: ...

Nora: Y-You didn't react...? D-Didn't I scare you...?

Jaune: I hadn't seen you in several hours. It was quiet, too quiet. So I assumed you were planning something. It was only a matter of time until you showed up, and screamed something at me trying to scare me. And, you did.

Nora: ...

Nora: We're doing MFK!

Jaune: AHHHH!?!

Nora: Ha! I got my scream~!

Jaune: We're no actually doing it though, are we?

Nora: No, we totally are doing it.

Jaune: Fuck!

Nora: Let me introduce you to today's contestants! First we have this beautiful lady. Jeanne D'Arc!

Jeanne: Bonjour~!

Jaune: Wait, hold up...?

Nora: Her evil clone, Jeanne D'Arc Alter.

Jeanne: Hi.

Jaune: Hold on now?!

Nora: And, last but not least! Jeanne Arc!

Jeanne: Hello~!

Nora: Let the games b...?!

Jaune: What the hell, Nora?!

Nora: Begin...?

Jaune: Good gods... of all the people you wanted me to, MFK, you pick my freaking quad sisters?!

Nora: ...

Nora: T-They're your sisters? Oh, I guess that make sense... they're all named, Arc. Wait, what the hell is, 'quad?'

Jaune: We're quadruplets, Nora. Since we're not twins, we call each other, 'Quad.' They are my quad sister's, and I am their quad brother.

Nora: Quadruplets?! But, I thought you were the youngest, a-and that you had seven older sisters?!

Jaune: Aye. I have four older sisters... that were born one at a time. Then, mom had the four of us, at relatively the same time.

Jaune: Jeanne, the blonde one with the silver crown, is the oldest among us.

Jeanne: That's me~!

Jaune: The platinum blonde with amber eyes, who is often referred to as the black sheep of the family is the second oldest. We call her, Jalter.

Jalter: Hi lil' bro. Your teammates is weird.

Jaune: No kidding...

Jaune: And, lastly we have the third oldest, Jea.

Jea: I think she's nice; a little eccentric, but nice.

Jaune: And, lastly we have me, the youngest.

Nora: Wow... your birthday must be a nightmare, sharing it with three sisters.

Jeanne: Actually, it is not like zat!

Jalter: We were all born on, May 30. However, each of our births took so long that our quad brother, Jaune ended up being born on the, 31.

Jea: So while we three sisters all have a birthday on the same day, Jaune luckily has his own separate birthday.

Jalter: Lucky bugger...

Nora: Okay...

Jaune: Anymore questions about my quads, Nora?

Nora: Yeah, what's with... Jeanne's accent?

Jaune: Her accent?

Jalter: There is a regional language from where we're from, called...

Jeanne: Français~!

Jalter: It's called, French. That's just how you say it in, French.

Jea: Jeanne learned the language just like the rest of us, she just latched on to it so much, that when she speaks the common tongue, with a, French accent.

Nora: Ohh... that makes sense! So, uhh... since this involves your quad brother, you still want to play, MFK?

Jeanne: Oh oui, very much so~!

Jalter: Hell yeah! I can totally use this to tease my little brother! I'm not missing this for anything!

Jea: I wanna tease our older sisters with this! We'll finally learn which sister he has a thing for!

Jeanne: Oh~! Those bro-cons will be so upset when we tell them!

Jaune: Oh gods...

Nora: Well, Jaune, who do you choose~?

Jaune: Haa... I'll marry my older sister... Jeanne!

Jeanne: Oui! Oui! Oui! I get to marry my sweet adorable little brother!

Jaune: Of course you were a bro-con too... you scream 'bro-con!'

Jeanne: It tis not my fault that you are ze only man that meets all of my standards for a marriage partner.

Jaune: You have low standards then...

JJJ: HEY?!

Jeanne: What did we say about speaking bad about yourself?!

Jaune: To do so quietly?

Jalter: That we would make you regret saying that! And, you will regret saying...?!

Jaune: I'd fuck, Jalter!

Jalter: W-What...? W-W-Why the fuck would you want to sleep with me?!!

Jaune: J-Jeanne has a warm motherly aura that I would like to find in a wife. And, you have a this cool, punk rocker girl that I wouldn't mind sleeping with, okay?!

Jalter: Alright...

Jaune: OH gods, I thought she was going to kill me...

Nora: You did?

Jaune: I love my sister, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, she scares me. She can have such a scary aura about her...

Jalter:

Jalter: He pick me! He picked me! He picked meeeee~!

Nora: She does...?

Jalter: Ahem! Please continue.

Jaune: Okay...

Jaune: Last, but not least... I kill, Jea.

Jea: Naww... Why do I have to die?

Jaune: Well... Jeanne, is the spicy mom of our quartet...

Jeanne: Spicy~?

Jaune: Jalter is the hot biker bade...

Jalter: I should get a motorcycle..

Jeanne: You would look belle on a motorcycle sister!

Jaune: And, your just the female version of me, Jea.

Jaune: Without the crippling self doubt, but nonetheless, me.

Jea: Rude.

Jaune: I know, being me is terrible.

Jea: ...

Jea: Sisters.

Jalter: On it.

Jaune: Hmm?

Jea: Come here you!

Jaune: Whoa, hey?!

Jeanne: Au revoir, Nora! We will be taking our dear brother away, so we can remind him how much we love him~!

Nora: Okay! Have fun, Jaune!

Jaune: No, Nora! Don't let them take me! Save me! Save meeeeeeeeeeee...!

Nora: What a lovely bunch of people!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Your Crazy Life Married to A Hunter Clown Magician | Chronicle #1 

The catalogued mishaps and adventures with your clown of a husband. There’s never a dull moment with Hisoka Morrow. It’s best to keep track of all the wild things your eccentric husband does wouldn’t want to be married to mass murderer….or rather he already is, you just don’t want him to get worse.

A thing about being married to Hisoka Morrow is the totality of his obsession. Never will he fail to show in one way or another that he is inexplicably enraptured in your existence. It doesn’t rival the euphoria he’s been recorded to show when fighting a future opponent; it outright excels! It’s hard to explain what it’s like to continuously be reliving the ecstasy of owning+ being married to you. 

Your husband’s love knows no bounds.

Not even at your goddaughter’s birthday party that you busted your butt to prepare for will he relent. Smirking at your focused face while you struggle to blow into a balloon. 

Like all his prey he bides his time happy to wow your god daughter and her friends with his bungee gum as you get swept up in helping the host of the party. 

So selfless! It makes him want to behead everyone in sight. 

But he won’t. 

Not because he cares about how you’ll feel but because there are so many more fun ways to make you cry.

Even so….he can’t help but wish that this party was over.

Any one who can sense nen, knows his patience is wearing thin. The card in his hands more likely to slice the necks of the kids who know none the wiser. And while he adores when you angrily insult him for his behavior, he figures there’s another way to deal with his frustration.

“Uh Mister Magic why are you sucking from that balloon?”

“Because I adore my spouse in latex. In every form!”

“Your spouse?! Do you mean my fairy godparent?!”

“Yes!”

“....Does their spit really taste that good?”

“Like the sweetest cake ever made!”

“Can I try?”

“Haha, NO.”

Thankfully your intervention comes at a perfect time to stop both of them from throwing a tantrum. Placating your sweet baby girl with the beginning of a new game fort her party and dragging your husband from the scene.

“What is your problem?!”

“I was only answering their questions~!”

“And saying incredibly inappropriate things I bet!”

“What’s so inappropriate about a man loving his partner~?”

“It’s inappropriate when you’re insinuating an adult activity that she should know nothing about!”

“Oh~Love I didn’t know you had adult activities at this party! Now I can enjoy myself too!”

“What, there isn’t–”

“Where.”

It’s then you make the tactical move to satisfy your husband in a locked bathroom on the second floor. Thankful that none of the attendees are active nen users. Because with little you do know about it, Hisoka has a terrible habit of…showing off. Won’t need to worry about your husband for the rest of the party, though you’ll surely pay the price to that smiling piper later on. 

“Why do you have new pants?”

“Oh that silly magician over there spilled some punch on it, so I made him get me new pants.”

“But I make spills and I don’t change!"

“Well you don’t have a magician to make your dirty clothes disappear.”

“Hisoka!?”

“Oh that makes sense!”

Rules | Kofi | Commissions

[rose-pearls]

Hi hi! Could I request something for Clarisse x reader? Where reader and Clarisse are cuddling after clarisse get a nightmare and are in a secret relationship. Then the next day word get's out that clarisse was cuddling with someone because of that clarisse breaks up with reader because she doesn't wanna ruin her reputation. You can decided what happens after that! Thank you so much and take your time!

Hi! Thank you for your request, here it is! I hope you liked it, I got a bit carried away with it as I loved the idea!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

You barely even hear the soft knocks on your window, but after two months of dating Clarisse your sleeping pattern had apparently been getting used to waking up at two in the morning to bring her in. Only this time she looks much smaller than she usually is, her eyes wide and scared, while her arms are wrapped around her shaking frame. You quickly jump out of bed and quietly try to reach the door to open it, it was quite dark but, in the distance, there seemed to be a light on, that you maybe would’ve seen if you hadn’t been so focused on your shaking girlfriend.

“Clar? Are you okay?”, you whisper, as carefully as possible with your siblings still sound asleep, but the brunette only wraps her arms around you as if she was scared that you would leave.

It’s clear that you won’t be getting an answer out of her, so you bring her to your bed, and she only lets go for a few seconds before coming back into your arms, holding you as tight as possible.

“Nightmare,” she says quietly, as if it would come back if she said it too loud. 

“Want to talk about it?”, you ask even though you know the girl won’t want to talk about it and the shaking of her head in the crook of your neck confirms it. Being an Ares child didn’t really leave her room to be vulnerable and even after knowing you for so long it was difficult to leave her guards down.

“That’s okay, just try to sleep for a bit. I’m right here,” you tell her, and she seems to relax slightly before relaxing completely as you brush your fingers through her hair, careful of the possible knots in them. 

You try to fall back asleep but there is to many thoughts running through your mind, about everything and anything but mostly about Clarisse and your relationship. The both of you had known each other for two years before the both of you started getting closer after a game of Capture the flag. There were countless nights of just the two of you talking and smiling at each other before it slowly formed into a relationship. She had asked for it to be a secret, she didn’t want to seem weak in the eyes of the others or that they would use you to get to her. As much as it was thrilling in the beginning you were just getting tired of having to hide, having to lie to your friends and half-siblings and having to watch other couples be open when you couldn’t. 

After a few minutes you finally feel your eyes closing and let out a little sigh, already knowing that you won’t have your girlfriend in your arms in the morning. 

--

Everyone is whispering, from the Hermes table to the Aphrodite table to even Poseidon’s table where Percy, Annabeth and Grover seem to be in a big gossip session.

“What is happening here?”, you quickly ask your half-sibling, and she looks at you as if you have grown a second head.

“You haven’t heard?”, she asks, looking surprised but gleeful as she can break you the news.

“Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t ask,” you tell her, and she rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Rumor has it that someone saw Clarisse going into a cabin last night and that they suspect that she is sleeping with or dating someone,” she says, and you feel your blood turn cold, someone had seen her coming into your cabin last night.

“Do they know what cabin?”, you can’t help but ask, unable to stop yourself from asking the question.

“They don’t, apparently it was too dark to be sure of which one it was,” she says looking disappointed, but you can’t help but sigh in relief. You turn to look at the Ares table only to find Clarisse with a murderous glare, luckily not towards you but it seems to be towards anyone else. 

“Who do you think it is?”, she asks you and you turn back to your sibling, trying to come up with an answer that isn’t yourself. For a moment you consider telling her that it’s you but then you remember Clarisse and how she probably doesn’t want it to get out this way.

“I don’t know, and we shouldn’t be speculating about someone’s dating life,” you tell her, but she rolls her eyes at your words.

“I think it’s Silena I mean the both of them have been close for a long time and an Aphrodite and Ares daughter makes sense,” she says, and you nod quietly, trying not to look like you feel pained at the words. For a long time, you had thought that there was something between the two girls, but Clarisse had quickly told you there wasn’t but now everyone seemed to think that the possible lover of Clarisse could be the Aphrodite girl.

The rest of the morning is just as chaotic, with children gossiping about who it could be and from which cabin they would be. You had already screamed three times for the Athena kids to focus on their sword fighting and not on gossiping but even they weren’t listening.

“Having a difficult morning?”, someone asks, and you turn to see Luke smiling knowingly at you, making you sigh in defeat.

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if they would just decide to stop gossiping constantly, it’s like they haven’t ever heard of someone dating,” Luke snorts at your words and you turn to look at him.

“That’s what happens when Clarisse and love is involved,” he says, and you can’t help but sigh in response.

“I guess this means the end of the class for this morning,” you tell him, and he laughs in response as you both see Athena’s children sitting down to talk about the possibilities.

“Or we could get their attention by starting a swordfight?”, he says, and you can’t help but smirk at his suggestion.

“I get your dessert if I win?”, you ask him, and he nods dutifully.

“And I get yours if I win,” you quickly shake his hand in agreement, before getting your sword. You had been sword fighting with him for three years, ever since you arrived at camp. Luke was like your brother, someone who had helped you find yourself but still managed to glitter bomb you as if he wasn’t too old for that.

“Ready?”, he asks, and you wield your sword, finally getting the attention of the kids.

“You better not to go easy on me Castellan,” his smirk is the only answer you need before he slams his sword into yours, officially starting the duel. 

You don’t know how long the both of you spent fighting against each other, but you can hear the cheers of your cabin every time you get an up on him. Ultimately Luke manages to disarm you, making you huff in disappointment, but the cheers of the Hermes cabin make you smile.

“Still the best swordsman on camp,” he says with a smirk, and you roll your eyes at his flaunting.

“Fine, you win this time,” you tell him, and he nods, a satisfied smile making his way on his lips.

“Now who wants to duel next?”, you ask towards the crowd, and you suddenly find multiple people raising their hands.

“Decide who you want to spar and write your name on this paper,” Luke says with a smile, a paper ready in his hands and you nod in satisfaction.

The both of you had been doing this for a long time, dueling against each other to get their attention and competitiveness started and then make them duel.

Luke has multiple duo’s coming towards him and you leave him to it, hoping to find a bit of quiet before starting the afternoon with the duels. That is before you hear your name, and an excited Percy comes towards you.

“Hey Percy, how can I help you?”, you ask and the boy smiles, like an overexcited puppy.

“Would you want to duel with me? You can say no if you don’t want to, but I already did it against Luke and I know you’re the second best swordsman or woman,” he looks a bit confused for a moment and out of breath from talking so fast but you laugh quietly.

“I would love to! Tell me when we have to, and I’ll join you in the rink. But be prepared I’m not going easy on you just because you are Poseidon’s son!”, he nods in agreement and looks even more thrilled at your words.

“That is perfect! I’ll go talk to Luke!”, he says before sprinting away towards the large group of kids surrounding Luke.

You can’t help the fond smile that appears as you turn back to go to your cabin, you needed to get a new shirt if you were going to be doing this all day long but a hand on your arm makes you stop, yanking you behind a couple of trees. You get ready to scream but come face to face with Clarisse.

“Gods don’t scare me like that,” you tell her, your heartbeat loud in your ears and she looks a bit sheepish. But there is a sad look that overtakes her brown eyes, and you suddenly feel worried.

“Hey, everything alright? I know that it wasn’t easy this morning, but the gossiping will quickly stop, they will have found something else to talk about in the evening,” you tell her, but she doesn’t look at you, instead she looks at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Clarisse?” you quickly ask, wondering what was happening inside of her head.

“We should break up,” the words are like a knife to your heart, she doesn’t even look at you as she says it, her eyes still trained on the floor.

“What do you mean? Just because of a rumor, they don’t even suspect it’s me you’re dating,” you say, trying to get her to look at you but she is stubborn.

“It’s better like this, otherwise they will see me as weak,” she says, and you can’t help but scoff at her answer.

“Why would they see you as weak? Because you are dating someone? That is such bullshit!”, you tell her, but she shakes her head, this time turning her gaze towards you, her brown eyes now hard.

“It isn’t, love makes you weak, they will use it to make me weaker,” she says, looking convinced with her whole theory of love but you shake your head.

“They won’t, the only thing they talk about is the fact that you are dating someone, not how that makes you weak. You are just getting inside of your head and driving yourself mad over something that isn’t that serious,” you tell her, feeling anger and frustrations coming up at the girl’s words.

“It is serious for me, I have a reputation and I can’t lose it over something like this,” the words make you tumble slightly, and she seems to realize how bad it sounds.

“Over something like this,” you can’t help but whisper while shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you want this to be over. Do it and I will walk away and leave you with your pride and reputation,” you tell her, but she just looks at you with sad brown eyes.

“Because I don’t want to fight for someone that doesn’t care as much as I do or someone that will never be ready to put their stupid pride aside to be with me,” there is pain in her familiar brown eyes, but you try to ignore it, telling yourself she is the one inflicting the pain.

The both of you stay there for a moment looking at each other before she lets out a shuddering sigh and turns to look at you with determined brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, but we should break up,” she says, and you can hear the shaking in her voice, the way her hands are balled up in fists, as if trying to stop herself from reaching out to you but you ignore it all instead feeling like someone has just ripped you in shreds.

You can’t even say anything, the only thing you can do is nod, tears pooling in your eyes, but you don’t want to let them fall. Clarisse seems pained at the sight of you, she takes a step froward but stops as you take a step back.

“I hope it’s worth it, choosing your reputation and pride over what we could’ve had. Have a good life Clarisse,” you don’t let her speak, you just turn around and leave hoping that no one is in your cabin and by some miracle there isn’t, leaving you the opportunity to break down in peace. 

Your mind is a mess, memories of Clarisse flashing before your eyes as you try not to completely fall apart but ultimately you can’t stop yourself from sobbing. Five minutes you tell yourself, that’s how much you give yourself before you ultimately need to get back out and face the others again. And as the five minutes pass you wipe your cheeks and try to get your breathing back to normal, wiping away any stains of mascara as if trying to put yourself slowly back together, even if your heart is still in the woods broken on the ground.

--

It’s hell, even worse than that, Clarisse thinks but she can only blame herself for that. She sees you smile with your sibling, your smile not as bright as it was before but it still makes her heart flutter. 

She didn’t know why she had chosen her pride over you, probably scared of what her father would’ve said if he realized that his daughter was more focused on love then fighting. Maybe he would’ve seen her as even more worthless than he already saw her, and she couldn’t have that. 

But as you stand far away from her, so far that she can’t even hear your laugh anymore she is filled with regrets, she wants to reach out to you to feel your touch again, she wants to bump into you to even hear your voice. Mostly, she wants to just have you in her arms again, in the darkness of the night where she had you all to herself. 

You had been right; people had quickly moved on from the rumor that day when Percy had beaten you at the last duel of the day. She had been furious with the boy, after all you had always been the best in her eyes, but she knew that she had been the reason why you weren’t focused during the fight. The only thing you had done was ruffle the boy’s hair with a fond smile before letting him celebrate his win, she hadn’t seen you that night. 

Now there she was, watching you talk with Luke about some stupid topic, looking all excited and as much as she wants to go rip him to shreds for making you smile, she can only look at you, still mesmerized by how beautiful you are.

“You need to talk to her,” she lets out a sigh at Silena’s words, they had this talk every few days, but she knew her best friend wasn’t letting this one go.

“She is happier without me,” Clarisse says stubbornly, even if it felt incredibly painful to think that she was possibly happier with someone else then her.

“She isn’t, even I can see it,” Silena is talking in that soft voice again, as if she was talking to a scared child, and maybe that is what she is. Because she was so scared to lose her pride that she didn’t realize just how painful it would be to lose you. 

“What do you want me to do? She doesn’t want to see me anymore, not after what I said to her,” Clarisse says, feeling tears in her eyes but she blinks them away.

“Did she told you that she didn’t want to see you anymore?”, she knows that Silena is trying to find a loophole, but Clarisse is stubborn. And as Silena lets out a sigh Clarisse can’t help but look at her.

“One day, she will get over what happened between the two of you and the memories will grow old and will disappear. She will then probably meet someone and live a happy life, forgetting about what happened between the two of you,” the words are like knifes to her heart, destroying her with every word.

“Do you want that? Or do you want to finally put your pride aside and show her just how much you care for her and maybe take a chance to have a future with her,” Clarisse know that she is right, someone will one day sweep you off your feet and make you so happy you will forget about her but she doesn’t want to think of that, she doesn’t want to think of the possibility that you would ever forget about her or what the two of you had.

She doesn’t answer Silena and instead decides to go and talk to you, her pride be damned you are far more important and worth it to her then her pride will ever be. 

You are talking with Percy, Luke and Annabeth as she arrives, but she doesn’t care in that moment, she only has eyes for you. She whispers your name softly, relaxing slightly at the familiarity of it and as you turn towards her, she can’t help but feel overwhelmed at how much she missed you.

“Could we talk?”, she tries to say it without a quiver in her words, but she ultimately fails. She doesn’t care, she is only looking at you with pleading eyes, hoping that you say yes.

“I’m in a conversation right now but maybe after?”, your voice is still as sweet as honey, but she can see that you are trying to put a wall between the both of you, to protect yourself.

“Please?”, she can see the surprise in everyone’s eyes, but she ignores it, only focusing on you.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” you tell the others, and she can see how your hands are trembling, a sign of nervousness and she can’t help but feel even more nervous.

The clearing in the woods where she takes you is the same as the last time and she tries to think what she is going to say but her mind is blank.

“Clarisse?”, you are looking at her with worried eyes and her stomach flutters at that, but she knows she needs to focus on the conversation.

“Right, sorry, I just wanted to talk to you,” she says, and you nod slowly, your arms crossing over each other, as if to protect yourself.

“I was an idiot, but you know that already. I shouldn’t have chosen my pride over you, not when I had you and that you made me happier than I had ever been. I miss you all the time, when I see you laugh and that I can’t hear it, when I see you smile and I realize that I’m not the one making you smile but ultimately I just miss you and having you close to me,” she waits, as you process what she just said and she curses herself for thinking this could ever be solved, she had broken your heart and her she was trying to win you over with some words.

“I miss you too,” the confession is said so quietly that Clarisse isn’t sure if she heard it right but her heart flutters at the words.

“But we can’t just go back to what we were. You hurt me Clarisse and I can’t just forget that and go back to whatever we were,” she knows that you are right but it still doesn’t stop the hurt.

“I want to try again, just give me a chance to prove to you that I do deserve you and that I love you so much,” she feels desperate, desperate not to lose you and maybe that is why she lets the three words slip past her lips.

“You love me?”, you ask, looking surprised at her confession but Clarisse smiles bashfully.

“Of course, I do, I fell in love with you through all the conversations we had, through the nights you hold me when I had a nightmare, through the smiles you gave me,” Clarisse feels scared for a moment as she sees your eyes shining with tears but there is a soft smile on your lips that reassures her.

“Gods Clarisse you are such an idiot,” you say after letting out a shaky sigh and she feels slightly confused at your response before you bring her into a dazzling kiss. She quickly realizes what is happening and kisses you back, trying to convey every single thing she feels about you into the kiss. 

And as you pull away for air you look at her with so much love in your eyes that she feels like she is going to cry from joy.

“I love you too,” you whisper, and Clarisse can’t stop herself from letting out a shaky breath of relief, squeezing your waist softly and brining you back into a kiss.

She doesn’t know how long the two of you stay there, kissing each other and whispering sweet nothings against each other’s lips but she wants to stay here forever. 

“This doesn’t mean that everything is okay again, we still need to work things out,” you whisper softly and Clarisse nods quickly in agreement.

“I know and we will work on this together. But first I want to show everyone my amazing girlfriend,” Clarisse whispers with a smirk and she enjoys the surprise that flickers in your eyes.

“Really?”, you ask, looking unsure for a moment, as if you were wondering if she was serious.

“Of course, I need everyone to see just how lucky I am and that you are off the market,” this makes you snort but Clarisse ignores it, instead taking her time to look over you, trying to notice what changed. 

“Alright then La Rue, lead the way,” you say as you shake her hand and Clarisse feels like the luckiest woman in the world.

And as she brings you back to the bonfire, she ignores everyone’s stare and open gaped mouths, only having eyes for you as you fill her in on what she missed. Luke and Silena whistle as she brings you on her lap next to them, but she only rolls her eyes fondly, enjoying the feeling of having you in her arms again.