#but my parents want to fly me back home for christmas

[sparrownnax]

fuck work fuck my job corporations should all die a quick but painful death

[daphwritesworld]

#23 A. Russo— all to you. 

content: face sitting(A receiving), thigh riding (r receiving), scissoring, lots of kissing lol, fingering (r receiving), kinda public sex(only for a short flashback), lovey-dovey type shit, top!Alessia, bottom!reader

warnings: bathroom sex in a flashback, Alessia humping your face should get its own warning so there you go, hitting your knee like an idiot, talks of marriage, Alessia in a "kiss the cook" apron lol

synopsis: After spending two months away in The States with your family– you’re finally flying back home to England. To your Alessia.

word count: 4.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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The sunrise bleeding in through the cracked blinds is what you notice first. The little beams of light interrupt the first real night of sleep you’ve gotten in the past two months. You’ve been away visiting your family. Two months usually wouldn’t have been that bad…if you were in the same time zone. keyword: ‘if.’

Going back to the States wasn’t bad— you love it back home. Being so close to your family, old friends, old stomping grounds, the completely different scenery, and the nostalgic restaurants all hold a special place in your heart. You’d of course enjoyed yourself on the trip, but nothing can compare to the longing of wanting to be back in Alessia’s arms. The days spent away were counted down in matching pocket calendars– one for you and the other for your girlfriend. Little notes of encouragement, inside jokes, and love poured out onto each date you’d be separated. You both decided to write them for each other and switch at the airport before you boarded your flight, promising not to look until the next day to check a box off. 

The day you came back to her finally arrived yesterday. She’d waited at the airport with her family, a cheesy sign with your name written on it and balloons attached. As soon as they saw you it was screams and hollers. Alessia moving so fast you felt her before you even had time to lift your head to their greeting. You let out a small yelp as she hoisted you into the air, her arms wrapping around your waist to keep you secured against her. Your hands cupped her cheeks and you leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips, pulling away after a couple of seconds— much to your girlfriend’s dismay. She pouts at you before trying to chase after your lips again, this time being met with your hand and a whispered shout, “Alessia Russo, I am not letting you shove your tongue down my throat with your family 15 feet away!”

She rolled her eyes at that, setting your feet back on the ground before latching her arms back around you. Pulling you closer to her as a small smile broke out across her lips, “Oh, but you’ll let me finger you in the bathroom at Christmas, is that it?” 

Your cheeks heat up instantly at the mention of the memory. Alessia had invited you over for Christmas with her family three years ago (when you two were “just friends”). You’d been left all alone in England since your flight was canceled due to bad weather, nowhere else but your empty apartment to go. And she couldn’t let such a pretty girl stay alone on such a joyful holiday, so she called her mom and made sure there was a plate set at the table long before she’d even convinced you to come that night. You’d both been dancing around each other for months: flirting, nicknames, and basically eye fucking at practice, but so so oblivious to the other’s intentions. But two glasses of Advocaat and some hanging mistletoe is all it takes for her to get you in the bathroom of her childhood home. One hand covered your mouth as the other fucked three fingers into your pussy, while the sounds of Christmas music and living room chatter drowned out to the both of you in your own world.

Before you can reprimand her with more than a soft whack to the shoulder, her brothers are running over to wrap you in a hug and telling their sister to stop “hogging the favorite.” her parents wrapped you up in a hug, too. Telling you how miserable and grumpy Alessia had been since you’d left.

“I-I was not!”

 You just smiled at the sounds of her siblings and her arguing as you all walked your way out. So happy to finally be back where you belong. Your real home– right here with your Alessia. You felt her hand slip into yours as you approached the doors. You said your goodbyes and promised to visit soon before she was leading you off to the car. The entire ride home was spent telling her all about your months spent back in The States. The phone calls when one of you would stay up late or wake up super early just to speak for an hour or less didn’t do enough justice. Her hand rested on your thigh the entire way, rubbing circles and little patterns into your skin as you spoke. She could listen to you all day, just happy to finally hear your voice in person and not through a speaker or her headphones. They could never pick up the true essence of your laugh or the crinkle in your nose when you do. 

Now in the comfort of your own bed, your hands search out across the sheets on instinct— a frown gracing your features as you feel the cold bed beneath your fingertips. You crack your eyes open, blinking a few times as they adjust to the daylight. You stretch your arms out as you sit up, the cold breeze through the house lighting goosebumps across your skin. You shiver as you hop off the bed, reaching down for Alessia’s oversized shirt that was thrown to the floor the previous night. The memories come flooding back in flashes as you slip it over your head. Your freshly hardened nipples sensitive to the material as it brushes against them. 

You barely had time to get through the front door before she had you pressed up against it. The way her lips were glued to your sweet spots, her hands gripping every part of you they touched, and how you two stumbled up the stairs because you wouldn’t pull away from making out on the way to your bedroom. The candles lit around the space, the pink and white rose petals sprinkled across the duvet, and the way she kissed her way down your whole body as she tore your panties off with a loud rip. She never was very patient...especially when it comes to your pussy.  

You flash back to the present as the smell of bacon hints in your nose. Your feet move and your stomach rumbles as you quietly make your way downstairs. Seeing Alessia in her “kiss the cook” apron, making a tray of food for you. It almost has you sneaking back up into bed so she could surprise you, but the growling monster in your stomach wins as you slowly come up behind her, wrapping your arms around the taller girl. 

“no no no! I was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed,” she whines with a pout on her lips as she turns around to face you. Her hands resting on your hips as yours go to wrap around her neck, pulling her down for a morning kiss.

“There, that fixed your face!” you say as you pat her cheek before stealing a piece of bacon from behind her on the counter. 

“I’m serious, Amore mio! I wanted to treat you today after being away for so long.” 

“You still can though, Baby,” you say as she sits you up on the counter beside her as she cooks. “Don’t gotta get your knickers in a twist,” the awful British accent leaves your lips with a giggle as you swing your foot to hit her on the butt. 

She puts her spatula down to bring her fingertips to your sides, tickling you relentlessly as you squirm around laughing loudly. The tears welling up in your eyes a clear sign of not being able to escape her assault, “Okay! Okay! St-Stop! I’m sorry, Less– I’m sorry!” 

She pulls you into her chest, arms wrapping around your middle and stepping between your knees. The big smile on her face never falters as she just rests her forehead against yours, taking this intimate moment in and soaking it up for all it’s worth. Her eyes are scanning across your face, and you wish in times like these you could read her pretty mind. Just wanting a glimpse into what’s behind those crystal blue eyes that enchant you every time they gaze into yours. 

“How’d you manage to get even more gorgeous whilst away?” It’s barely above a whisper when she says it, her hands coming up to lightly trace over your face. Her fingers run across your cheeks, lips, and jaw. It’s all too much for you at the moment, so overwhelmed with love for her. So you lean forward and place your lips on hers, and it takes both of your breaths away. It’s different than the ones you shared last night. There’s no urgency in your movements and no harshness behind them. Her tongue slides into your mouth when you gasp from the way she lightly nips at your bottom lip, still moving at a slow pace. The smell of burning food breaks you back into reality a bit, trying to pull away as she chases your lips closely.

“The food, Alessia,” you manage to get the words out between kisses, never fully able to get her lips off of yours completely.

She groans out into your mouth before backing away, turning off the stove eye, and moving the pan to rest on a cold one. She doesn’t even say anything before she brings a hand behind your neck to pull your mouth back onto hers. The fire in your belly is roaring, begging for her touch and to touch her. 

“Mmm, upstairs,” It’s not a question when you say it. She supports your middle with her arms before hoisting you off the counter, your legs wrapping around her waist on instinct as she carries you to your destination. 

When she reaches the bed there’s no throwing you down, and clawing your clothes off. She’s connecting your lips as she slowly lays you down on the sheets, following your body with her own. A hand comes up to caress the back of your neck as she deepens the kiss. Your knees spread for her body to align with yours like a puzzle piece, fitting together perfectly and in rhythm with one another. The hand behind your neck starts slipping around front, keeping a loose hold on your neck as she pulls back just enough so you can both breathe for a second. 

“Please fuck me, Baby,” it comes out airy and breathless as your chest rises and falls rapidly. 

“No.” 

You feel like your world’s crashing down. No? Did she tell you…No? Like as in N-O.. no?

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” she says it while holding your face in her hands. You think she’s being cruel, punishing you for a stupid joke accent, or the fact you woke up early and spoiled her surprise for you. Pulling you back into a mind-reeling kiss, and desperately searching for a reason she’d tease you and wind you up like this just to leave you high and dry. 

“I’m gonna make love to you,” your eyes snap up to her. Mind quieting and drowning out all your worries and complaints. Your breath hitches as she says it and you swear your heart swells up twice its size. “Let me show you how much I missed you, Amore mio.” 

You’re nodding your head as a quiet moan rolls off your tongue at her words, connecting your lips once again as her hands start rubbing up your sides. They slip under your (really her) shirt draped over you, the only thing separating her from your naked body. Goosebumps rise behind in the path of her hands, your skin feeling electric from her touch. She moves down your body as she gets up on her knees, untying her apron and throwing it somewhere into the room. She’s lifting your shirt as she peels it off your body. Her lips leave kisses in the journey up as your flesh is being revealed. She nips a little harder on your soft spots, leaving behind love bites in her wake. Little reminders of where she’d been and how her love poured out of her and onto your skin. When the shirt is being brought over your head and blocking your view, she brings one of your nipples into her mouth. Your hands go to the back of her head to bring her closer to your chest, arching into her mouth. The pleasure only multiplies when she laughs around your bud, pulling back as you whine out from the feeling. 

“Move your hands for a second, Love. Lemme get this off you,” there are kisses left on your boobs as she says it. Taking your hands into hers as she places them beside your head, and leans down slowly to almost connect your lips. But she just hovers over them for a second, breathing in the same air as each other. She pulls back with a smirk when you try to push yourself up, and then she slips the shirt over your head, throwing it back to its home on the floor of your bedroom. 

Her lips are on your collarbone as she slips a knee between your legs, resting against your naked pussy. Wet kisses are tracing back down to your other nipple this time. The warmth of her mouth around it is intoxicating, your tits extra sensitive since they’d been neglected for so long. She looks up at your face once she notices your body has a mind of its own, grinding up against her thigh as sinful sounds flow from your mouth. Another laugh rips through her, and to both of your surprise, it sends you into an orgasm. Not a super hard or intense one, but still enough to have your eyes closing and your legs trying to close around hers. 

Alessia looks down and groans loudly at the sight. Your creamy cunt making a mess on her sweatpants, some white cum streaking the grey fabric along with the giant wet stain taking up a majority of her thigh. 

She’s entranced by the sight, jumping when she feels your hands on her neck. You’re pulling her into a searing kiss as her hand comes up to play with your messy pussy. “No, Less. Wanna make you feel good, too. Please baby,” you break the kiss as your hand stops hers. 

“How do you want me then?” 

“Wanna taste you, please.” 

So she hops off the bed and strips herself naked, but you don’t expect her to push you back down as she climbs up onto your body. Usually, she’d just guide your head with a hand in your hair against her cunt, but not today. Oh no. Today she’s resting her knees beside your head as she massages your scalp for a second. 

“Ready, Love?” 

“Hurry up and sit on my fucking face!”

She laughs out a cackle a that, a true hearty laugh. Then she’s sinking down onto your awaiting mouth, resting her weight down onto your face. You swear you could die right now between her legs, and they’d find you with a smile on your face. The taste of her sets off a primal moan to take over you, your eyes rolling back as she grinds down onto your tongue. Alessia always makes the prettiest noises while getting fucked, you could spend hours pleasuring her body and you’d cum just from the sounds she makes alone. Her hands find your hair as yours find her thighs, both squeezing and holding on for dear life as she speeds up her movements. The beds starting to squeak, reminiscent of how she knocked the headboard into the wall last night and left a small indention. 

Your hands move up from her thighs to her tits, rolling her nipples between your fingers as her clit starts humping repeatedly into your nose. Every one of your senses is overwhelmed with just “Alessia” as you take your tongue and start fucking her with it, drunk off the idea of getting her to cum like this. The view is breathtaking above you; Alessia with her head thrown back, back arching as your hands work magic on her chest, and her toned stomach flexing with every roll of her hips above you. 

It’s then when you moan again into her pussy that she’s cumming in your mouth, letting the nastiest words roll off her tongue, “La mia piccola troia, swallow it all! Take what I give you Carino mio.”

Wanting to please her, you make sure to suck up every drop that comes out of her. Your tongue slips out of her to clean up, an extra flick to her clit as you finish. She’s pulling away after that, flopping onto the bed beside you trying to catch her breath. One arm pulls you onto her chest, placing a kiss on your hairline as she rubs your bare back. “You did so good for me, Love. Made me feel so fucking good. Better than anyone ever has  .”

​​

You lift your head at that, a blush on your cheeks from her words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Baby,” It’s let out with a smile gracing her lips and a twinkle in her eye. She’s throwing her head to the side with a loud sigh after a moment, “Fuck you’re so pretty! I can never get enough of you, you know”

You sit up at this, straddling her lap as you swing a leg over her. Taking both of her hands into yours as you interlock them, and bringing them up for a tender kiss to her knuckles. “You’re prettier, Lessie. A worldwide splendida ragazza.” you were praying you didn’t butcher the pronunciation, having spent those two months away studying Italian every night. 

You see tears welling up in her eyes and you instantly frown, opening your mouth to apologize for upsetting her. “I’m sorry, Less. I thought I could learn it-” but you’re cut off by her soft lips on yours. All the emotions and pent-up frustrations from missing each other poured into this one shared kiss. 

“Ti amo, Amore mio bellissimos.” She says it right against your lips, a few of her tears running down between your lips. The saltiness only adds to the passion of the lip lock. “Ti amo tanto,” you reply to her. As you’re lifting one of her legs and slipping one of yours beneath it, you drop your cunt against hers. Both of you let out a moan at the sudden contact. Alessia’s hands find your hips as she starts guiding your movements, controlling your body because she knows it better than you do. Your fingers couldn’t make you cum while you were away, nothing could. Because she has ruined you for anybody else, your pleasure is only loyal to her now. “Look at us, Amore mio. Look how messy we make each other. How much we love and miss each other.”

You look between you, the way both of your thighs are covered in slick. Your puffy clits bump together with every roll of your hips. You feel too far away from her, even though you’re so close. So your hands reach out and pull her closer, lips finding one another again. They’re red, swollen, and sore at this point, but neither of you cares. Too lost in each other to even register the slight pain. 

Your legs start getting tired as your orgasm approaches, slowing down as the pain of that at least catches up with you. Alessia notices and pulls away from your lips, “Wrap your arms around me, Love.” And you do it without question, no idea why she wants you to, but trusting her completely anyway. 

Within seconds you’re squealing as she flips you two over on the mattress, blonde hair cascading down to frame her face perfectly. You swear with the sunlight shining in she looks like a proper angel, a halo surrounding her head in the morning daze. Her hands lift and situate your body exactly how she wants it. She’s got her hips slamming back into yours in no time, the sound of skin slapping and the words of praise passing between the two of you fills up the room. Your arms are around her neck pulling her down to be chest to chest with you, just wanting her to suffocate you honestly. If you could crawl into her skin you would, but alas this is the closest you’ll ever get. You swear you can feel your hearts beat in synch like this, the thumping of your them so loud in your chests it’s making your body tingle. Her hands find your hips, rubbing circles into them as a way to ground you. Her lips leave kisses up the side of your neck, stopping to nip at your jaw. 

“Cum for me, Love.” her lips trail down to your ear, letting out a groan as she tugs on your earlobe with her teeth, “La moglie futura mia.”

Finally understanding the term of endearment is what does it for you. You’d heard her call you that a million times and never thought of it, having slipped your mind with all the other nicknames she gives you. Your legs start shaking and your grip on her neck tightens, making sure she stays pressed against you the whole time. “My Future Wife,” replays in your head over and over as the pleasure from your orgasm wrecks through your body. Screams of “Te Amo!” “I love you” and “Less” all come out mixed as the wires in your brain start crossing the two languages and the girl who speaks them.

You can’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your tummy as you realize she said that to you for the first time at her family’s Christmas all those years ago. That’s how she’d introduced you to them as they welcomed you both in the door, a big grin on her face. “This is, (y/n). La moglie future mia.” Now all the hugs and promises to return each year as you two were leaving make a little more sense.

She doesn’t stop her hips, chasing her own high as she feels it approaching. “Come on,” she rubs her hands on your forearms gently, “Let me see your pretty face when I cum, Darlin.” You whine a little at the thought of her pulling away, but nonetheless let her guide your arms away. She reconnects your hands together and lays them above you, eyes focusing on the way your mouths open and panting for her. The sweat dripping down your brow and all the small details in your face show off the way she’s making you feel. All of it’s rolling in her stomach, the pit of fire growing by the second. 

“Cum for me,” it’s breathless as you say it, her eyes instantly finding yours. “La moglie futura mia,” it’s a sentiment that you’re only now able to return. The weight of the words and the fact you spoke them back to her is overwhelming. Her hips stutter into yours, and her eyes shut as she crashes her lips back down onto yours. Moaning into your mouth as her orgasm washes over her, rolling in waves as she slows her pace to a stop. 

For a while you’re both just lying there, her head on your chest and your fingers playing in her hair. The sounds of you both trying to regain a normal breathing pattern is slowly trying to lull you to sleep. So at peace in the comfortable silence and the safety of having Alessia in your arms– exactly where she should be. She lifts her head up, trailing some kisses down before resting her chin on your stomach. “Can I bring your tray of food to you in bed now?” 

It’s all really a blur till then for you. Your body is so so tired, your eyes getting heavier as the minutes tick by. You’re almost fully asleep by the time she comes back, only responding to her in grunts and hums. She chuckles at you as she moves your body to sit up against the headboard, propping a pillow behind you for extra comfort.

 “Alright, at least eat your toast or drink some juice. Your body needs some energy after that,” It’s soft when she says it. Her lips press feather-light kisses to your face as your eyes start to crack open. She’s got that damn apron on again and you shake your head at that, a laugh bubbling out of your lips. Your Alessia– butt naked except for her “Kiss The Cook” apron wrapped around her body. The tray placed over your legs takes your attention next. Despite being sleepy you are super hungry, even more than when you first ventured downstairs to steal a piece of bacon. You shake your head in agreement before reaching towards your plate, but your fingers hit something velvety on the edge of the tray stopping you. You focus your eyes a bit, squinting till the sun adjusts for your sight, and that’s when you see it. The small blue box is set right before your plate. Your heart rate picks up and you look over at Alessia with a confused look on your face. 

“Open it, Caro.” She says it with so much endearment you can’t help but smile. 

When you open it up it’s a beautiful ring. A gold band adorned with the gemstone of your birth month. Your eyes widen at the gesture, tears filling them before you turn to face your girlfriend. She’s wiping them away with her fingers, reaching down to take your hands into hers.

“Marry me, (y/n). It doesn’t have to be now, in a year, or even five. Just promise me that you’ll be la mogile futura mia.”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Less!” You’re gasping and jumping up– right before your knees hit the tray you forgot about and you’re letting out a cry of pain from the commotion. Your hands come up to hide your face, a blush deepening as embarrassment sets in. “Shit! That seriously fucking hurt!” 

You’re only met with a laugh and her hands pulling yours away from your face. You look back at her when you feel the ring being slipped onto your finger, her eyes never leaving yours as she does so. “Looks like you’re inheriting the Russo family clumsiness already, Love.” 

She takes a second to move the tray of food off of the bed before returning. Her lips come down, kissing your knees where they’d been hurt as she rubs soothing shapes into your calves. Once she’s satisfied with her work she moves back up and throws her body on top of yours, wrapping your limbs around each other as the reality starts to set in: You’re engaged to be married. 

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be a family, Less!” it’s a whispered shout– the excitement doubling as you bring your hand towards your face to get another look at your ring. But before you can tell her how beautiful the ring is, she’s cupping your face and pulling it closer to hers. Her eyes render you speechless, looking into yours like the galaxy is hidden inside them. “We’ve been a family for a while now, Vita mia. I’m only just now growing the nerve to make it official.”

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 2 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings in this part, i promise the next part will have some actual fluff to it

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

y/n was easily won over by chicken nuggets and a diet coke - a fact lando knew too well. both he and max had both spent almost hundreds on the food combo every time y/n was roped into one of their plans. whether she was lying to her parents to cover up where max had been all night, or even just being asked to hold a camera or a boom mic for a quadrant video, she was always rewarded with 6 chicken nuggets and a diet coke.

lando had in fact not included max in his late night plans, and very quickly made it known as to why.

“so, how’s uni?” he asked, warming her up for the incoming conversation, turning onto a side road and pulling the car to a stop.

“yea it’s good thanks, how’s driving?”

“could be better, i could be better,” he smiled sadly, but glad she asked about driving as she fell directly into his trap, “why did you stop coming to races?”

“lando,” she sighs his name, almost disappointed in him for even asking, “university’s a lot of work you know. i can’t fly around the world to watch you drive a car. and, i still watch the races - just from home.”

“so it’s nothing to do with me?”

“well ignoring me for a year doesn’t help your case, but no, it’s not to do with you. you know i’ll always be there when i can. when im invited,” the emphasis on invited hung like hot air in the car, and created and unsettling silence.

“lan, can i ask you a question?” she said, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the car.

“mhm, anything.”

“why did you stop talking to me? i know we’re not as close as you and max,” she adds, lando almost wincing at the mention of his best friend, “and i know you were busy being, you know, a superstar and that. but even over your break, i saw you like twice in passing.”

“im sorry y/n, honestly it wasn’t intentiona-”

“bullshit, try again norris. the truth this time.”

lando breathed in deep, as if to lock and load his next statement.

“max he, uh, he told me he’d seen some pictures of us. you remember that club in monaco?,” she nodded in response, remembering the encounter with lando that night in somewhat drunken detail, “he wasn’t happy with me. thought we had something going on behind his back. y/n when i say angry, i mean he was one step away from beating me up and then keying my car.”

“but there was nothi- i mean we weren’t d-”

“i know, i tried to tell him,” lando sighed, “he gets a bit, let’s say ‘over protective’ with you i guess. doesn’t trust me maybe? i don’t know.”

“so instead of letting me discuss it with him, you refused to acknowledge my existence for a year? yeah that’s mint, let’s do that,” she said, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

“i was a dick, ok - i’m sorry. but your brother is slightly terrifying when he’s angry. think he’s realised he was wrong - that’s why he let you come to the race im guessing.”

he was wrong - but was he? was max completely wrong to assume what he had? she thought the feelings were mutual but clearly lando had other ideas.

“can i drive your car?” y/n asked, smiling over to lando in the drivers seat. he’s started driving around aimlessly again, deciding to put an end to the conversation about where they stood with each other. his head whipped around to look at her, his eyebrows quirked up in a mix of confusion and immediate refusal. he wasn’t even driving one of his more expensive cars, as they all stayed in monaco. but of course, lando norris needs a high end car in every country.

“please, lan,” she said again, eyes widening in attempt to tug on his heart strings, “please. i miss driving, i haven’t driven since like, christmas since my car died and went to car heaven.”

“y/n, angel,” the nickname wasn’t something new, but it still flipped something about in her stomach, ”if anything, that makes me want to say no even more. besides, it’s automatic - you drive manual.”

“oh come on, it’s literally just a pedal for stop and go. please.”

“not tonight,” he said, looking at her to show his sad frown as if that would make her happy about the rejection, “if i get podium tomorrow, ill put some money towards getting you a new car.”

“lan, please you don’t have to do that.”

“i know i don’t have to. i want to. besides, if i get podium i think i owe my lucky charm something to show my gratitude, no?” he said. y/n knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win, so she smiled up at him, nodding slightly.

the car fell back into a silence, comfortable this time, with only the sound of lando’s music playing quietly out of the speakers, and the odd whooshing of a car driving past.

the car came to a still, the red light reflected on the their faces as they waited for the light to change.

“the stars look pretty tonight,” she said absentmindedly. y/n was never one to sit in silence without at least attempting to fill it.

“yeah, they do,” lando responded, although he wasn’t looking at the stars, moreover, he was staring directly at the light reflecting onto y/n’s face. his own mouth curling up into a smile when he saw your soft features grinning contently at the sky.

it was around 1am when y/n and lando returned to the hotel car park, casually discussing life at university and where y/n saw herself using her degree in the future.

“i think it’s better if we don’t tell max about this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side, catching lando’s eyes. her own eyes blinking slowly in exhaustion.

“i think so too. are you going to tell him what i said?”

“not right now. but i refuse to let him believe has any right to threaten his own friends in a bid to control my life,” she says, her body now twisted fully to face him directly.

“just,” he sighed, “dont get violent,” his hand reaching over to rest on her knee.

“me? violent? that is a bold accusation, norris.”

“y/n - i know you. just don’t be too harsh, he thought he was doing what was best.”

“thinking is always max’s downfall,” she responds with a snort. she turns her body back, arm reaching to grab the handle when lando catches her other arm, forcing her to look at him again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“i’ll be there.”

sneaking back into a room was usually y/n’s specialty, but she’d never attempted to sneak past max before. rather, her teens were spent sneaking back into the house with max. unlocking the door and pulling the handle down, y/n pushed softly on the wood, but the creaking was so loud in the silence of their hotel room. the floor boards to her bag of clothes seemed to have a vendetta against her today too, she could’ve sworn they did not creak when she had walked across them earlier.

the bathroom tap decided to splutter loudly and spit freezing cold water down her, and the door to slide back open and allow the stream of light to fall directly on max’s face.

“y/n?” her brother groaned, “you just come back in?”

“yeah, sorry - i tried to be quiet,” she whispered back, turning the bathroom light off and stumbling gracefully through the dark room to the sofa.

“it’s 1am? you were in the gym for 3 hours?”

“erm, yeah,” her voice wavered in the lie, “i got distracted on the treadmill. tired myself out though.”

max grumbled something in response, too sleepy to say anything further.

the next morning max walked down to the hotel lobby, passing the gym in his journey for breakfast.

open 7:00 - 23:00

hang on, he thought to himself, shut at 11?

where had his sister been? she couldn’t have been in the gym till 1am, so where had she been, and why had she lied?

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes

[theemporium]

[13.2k] the chalet was your home away from home in the festive season. but this year it may become the place you fall in love with the last person you expected. ft my very limited knowledge on how skiing works. (very lazy smut included)

.

Your family had always gone to The Chalet with the Montgomery’s for as long as you could remember. 

One spontaneous ski trip decades ago led your parents to start a tradition that would last through the generations. Every year, both families would fly out to the mountains of France to enjoy the festive season in the homely ski resort called The Chalet. Owned and ran by an elderly couple, it was the kind of place you would see in hallmark movies, or maybe even in a snowglobe. It was a place beyond your greatest winter wonderland dreams and imagination. The Chalet didn’t feel like a real place, and that was why the getaway every Christmas made the holiday so magical. 

It was your home away from home, a safe haven. It was the one place in the world where you could disappear from reality and embrace the isolation from society. 

At least, that was what the three weeks in the ski resort usually felt like. 

And after a year of moving away from home, starting a new job at the bottom of the food chain and dealing with more social circle drama than you ever intended to deal with, you craved nothing more than the simplicity and enjoyment The Chalet had to offer. You needed the break away from your life, a break away from the life you weren’t totally sure you had under control. 

You just wanted your home away from home, and instead when the families arrived at the resort, you were met with crowds of strangers swarming the place like a colony of buzzing, irritating bees. 

“What the hell?” You muttered once you had stepped out of the car, looking at the throng of people lingering outside the main entrance to the resort. 

“Apparently the place is booked out,” your mother noted from somewhere behind you as they began to unpack the bags from the boot of the car. “Madame Blanchet reserved our usual rooms when she started getting more and more bookings.” 

“Since when was this place overbooked?” You commented, a little blunter than intended. But it was hard to mask your surprise. A part of The Chalet’s charm was that it was a small, unknown ski resort hidden amongst the many that were established in the French Mountains. For as long as you could remember—hell, even before that—there hadn’t been more than ten or so families staying at the resort over the Christmas period. 

“Maybe Madame Blanchet finally learnt how to make a website,” a voice remarked from beside you, sounding quite amused by the mass of people, which shouldn’t have really surprised you. 

And just like you expected, you turned your head to find Harper Montgomery grinning widely at the crazy crowd like she was expecting it. She stood beside you with her hands on her hips, something about the bright ski suit looking so out of place, not that she acted as much. Every year, you swore The Chalet wasn’t ready for her and every year you were proven correct. 

“Considering the woman still has a dial phone, I am going to doubt the sudden online advertisement,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe this will be the Christmas we make new friends,” Harper noted, her head tilted to the side and her dark eyes scanning the crowd. “I am pretty sick of Mrs Hartford beating me at scrabble.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Maybe you should stop challenging her then.”

Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Never.” 

“I still don’t get why so many people are waiting outside,” you grumbled as your eyes fell back to the crowd, noticing the way they were buzzing with some sort of excitement. “I don’t even think the lodge has enough rooms for this many people.” 

Harper hummed. “Maybe—”

“OH MY GOD!” 

Your eyes widened in alarm as you turned your head, seeing Evan standing a few feet away from you and Harper. The older Montgomery was gripping his phone, eyes full of adoration and awe as he grinned at his screen like a madman. He let out a high-pitched squeak, catching the attention of both families as they looked at him with varying looks of concern.

The blond finally lifted his head, oblivious to the worried looks as his grin seemingly widened. He thrusted a phone towards you and Harper, almost buzzing in his spot. “He’s here!”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“He’s here!” Evan repeated, just as enthusiastic as the first time. “He is in our ski lodge! He’s here!” 

You still looked equally confused. “Who?” 

“His little man-crush,” Harper noted as she glanced down at his screen. 

“Charles Leclerc!” Evan sighed, almost dreamily as he hugged his phone to his chest. “We are spending Christmas with Charles Leclerc!” 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, pushing past the boy to grab your suitcase so you could finally go check in. “For fuck’s sake, not your little driving guy.” 

“Hey,” Evan frowned. “He’s more than that.” 

“I have to listen to you talk about him for nine months of the year,” you remarked, though even that felt like an understatement. “Christmas is meant to be my free time from your little obsession. We made a deal.”

Evan blanched. “That was before I knew he was here!” 

“And now he’s ruining Christmas,” you grumbled bitterly, letting out a wince when you felt a pinch to your side.

“Don’t be such a grinch,” Harper teased. “Let him be a fanboy and spend his days on the slopes hunting the guy down. Don’t let it ruin your holiday.”

You snorted. “That will be hard when he is talking our ears off about Charles’ pretty green eyes or the way his hair looks after a race.”

“It’s fluffy!” Evan defended. “It’s unreal after a two hour race in a helmet!” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you patted the boy on the chest as you moved past him. “You have him all to yourself, you won’t see me complaining about it.” 

Evan puffed his chest out. “You just can’t appreciate greatness.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” you waved him off. “I’m here to ski and relax. As long as this Charles guy keeps you and his little fanbase far away from me, I don’t care what he does.” There was a pause and Harper gave you a questioning look when she saw the glint in your eyes. “Even if he is overrated.”

Evan’s jaw dropped. “You did not just—”

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” You called out behind you as you grabbed Harper’s hand, dragging her towards the main entrance with you and letting your laughs echo through the reception as the boy swore up and down behind you.

…

You could have said that your resentment towards the Ferrari driver was purely based on how much Evan spoke about him during the racing season, but that would be a lie. 

It had started off that way when the boy finally made it into Formula One. Evan had been a motorsport fanatic from a young age, always eager to ramble away to you and Harper on various championships and seasons neither of you particularly cared about. As you got older, you learned to become more accepting and tolerant of the fact your Sundays would always be hijacked by whatever grand prix was occurring that weekend. 

However, when a young hot shot joined the sport that Evan had been following through the lower leagues, you didn’t realise just how quickly that tolerance would disappear until he was yapping your ear off after every single race. 

And truthfully? You didn’t get it. You didn’t get the sport in general, you didn’t understand what made a driver good or bad, and you didn’t understand the world’s obsession with Charles Leclerc as the years passed. To you, he just seemed like a pretty boy who enjoyed the spotlight of being the face of the sport. To you, he seemed like nothing more than a show pony. 

And no amount of debates and rants from Evan would change that. 

You wouldn’t have gone out of your way to say you hate Charles Leclerc, but you would say you were coming pretty damn close since you arrived at The Chalet.

The Chalet was bustling from the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you fell asleep. Wherever you went, it felt like you were pushing through a crowd to get from point A to point B. And the amount of times you had fans gripping your arm as you walked past, asking you if you had seen the Monegasque driver was starting to make you want to rip your own hair out. 

Yet, despite the buzz around the driver being in the lodge and the amount of fans circling the place through various hours of the day, you had yet to see the boy himself and that was something you were perfectly content with.

You had managed two blissful days before you crossed paths with Charles Leclerc. 

You had been taking too long to get ready so you assured Harper and Evan you would meet them at the slopes, insisting there was no need for them to wait for you. Both Montgomery’s—stubborn as ever—scoffed and told you they would be waiting for you in the lobby instead. 

You had been in a rushed state when you made your way towards the equipment valet, eager to just quickly hand your locker number over and collect your equipment. However, your path seemed to be blocked by a man standing in front of you, nose buried in his phone as he muttered in a language you didn’t quite understand. 

“Excuse me, do you mind if I just—” 

“Fucking hell,” the man swore, causing you to pause and frown at his back. 

You were taken aback, not expecting that response or the scoff that left his lips afterwards. And when he turned around, you were even more shocked when you realised you knew exactly who the rude man was—none other than Charles Leclerc. 

“Look, I appreciate that you are a devoted fan and I am grateful for the support, but I really don’t have time for pictures right now,” Charles continued and, to his credit, did look a little empathetic. Though, that didn’t take away from the underlying hostility in his words. “I am just here to enjoy my break. Please let me do so in peace.” 

You blinked, absolutely flabbergasted by his assumption. “Huh?”

The smile he gave you was almost condescending. “As a fan, I am sure you’d understand that I’d want a few days just free from the media and—”

And it seemed like only then did your brain catch up with the situation. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, I am not a fan,” you stated as bluntly as you could, watching the boy’s face morph into something quite like confusion. As though he genuinely couldn’t compute the fact somebody wasn’t a fan of him. 

“What?”

“I was just trying to get my skis and you were standing in my way like a douche,” you said simply, watching as his brows furrowed closer together. “Which I would have felt bad for calling you before I realised who you were.”

“Who I was,” Charles repeated, still baffled as you pushed past him to do just as you said. 

“Hot shot who thinks everybody who breathes near him cares about who he is,” you supplied, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you now stood before him with your skis in hand. “Have a great day, Charles Leclerc.”

And the boy didn’t get a chance to say anything as you walked away, your mood positively ruined by the time you reached Evan and Harper in the lobby. They took one look at your sour mood and raised their brows in question, but you simply grumbled and waved them off, in no mood to repeat your interaction to Charles’ biggest sympathiser. 

Fortunately for the Montgomery siblings, your mood eased up by lunchtime and you were (mostly) over the whole interaction. 

…

Or at least, you were over the interaction until dinner came around. 

Dinner at The Chalet was like one massive family meal. With a large hall dedicated as the dining area, the Blanchet’s had set it up quite like a buffet system. There were tables of food bordering the room with tables dotted through the middle. Everyone sat on the round tables, in their little families and looking like a picture perfect scene for the final meal of the day. 

So of course your final meal of the day had to be ruined by an arrogant Monegasque who grinned at you like you two were old friends. 

“Ah, you! I’ve been looking for you.”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have even realised he was talking to you if it weren’t for the fact the boy had stopped right beside you, practically looming over your shoulder as you tried to help yourself to some macaroni cheese.

You raised your brows, giving the boy a once-over before returning your attention to your plate. 

“Uh, hello,” Charles tried again, his brows furrowing together a little at the cold shoulder you gave him.

“Hi,” you stated simply, not wanting to spend any more moments with the Monegasque than you had to. 

“I wanted to apologise for earlier,” Charles continued, seeing your response as an open invite to a conversation. 

“Do you now?”  

“Yeah,” Charles nodded, a smile making its way onto his face as your sarcastic tone went completely over his head. “Listen, I really didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—this is my holiday and I had no intention of my location being leaked. I just wanted a break from everything, you know? And I guess the frustrations of being bombarded for the last few days just got to me.” 

And truthfully speaking, a part of you sympathised with the boy. Though his fame reached levels you would never understand, The Chalet was your haven away from everything. It was a place where reality never seemed to touch, a place to escape. You could understand better than anyone what it was like to crave that feeling in your life. 

But just as you opened your mouth to say as much, Charles seemed to remind you exactly why you disliked him in the first place.

“And I just wanted to clear things up with you before the media found out and—” 

“So, you’re only apologising because you don’t want me running to journalists and ruining your image?” You interrupted, catching the boy off-guard as he gaped at you for a few seconds.

“Well, yes, it wouldn’t look good if I was harassing fans,” Charles said.

“But I’m not a fan,” you corrected him, gripping your plate in your hands. “And I certainly don’t care about shattering someone’s image for fifteen seconds of fame, no matter how much of a douche they are.”

Charles frowned. “I—” 

“You can take your apology and shove it up your ass, Charles,” you said, that sickly sweet smile on your face once again as you turned around to find whichever table your family were sitting at. But a hand reached out to softly grip your elbow and you turned to find Charles looking at you with a helpless expression. 

“I am sorry,” Charles said to you, something in his voice that you didn’t really understand. “But I also care about my image. Surely you can understand that.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you retorted as you tried to tug yourself free from his hold. 

Charles opened his mouth to reply, but a louder voice caught the attention of both of you. 

“STORMY! OVER HERE!” 

You felt your face heat up as you glanced over your shoulder, finding Evan sat amongst your family and his own as he waved you down. He had a shit-eating grin on his face (most likely from the fact he used the one nickname that he knew pissed you off more than anything else in front of everyone) and looked like he was about to do more when his gaze shifted to the man beside you. His jaw dropped, a comical expression on his face as he looked between you and Charles Leclerc.

“Stormy?” Charles repeated, looking over at you. 

You ignored his questioning gaze, instead narrowing your eyes at the hand still gripping your elbow. “Can you let me go now or is there more to your shitty apology?”

Charles opened his mouth once again, yet another person interrupted him before he got a chance.

“Charles? What’s taking you so long?”

Your eyes wandered to the girl who saddled up beside him, her expression light until she turned to look at you. Her gaze was calculated, her blue eyes seeming to size you up and something about the all white attire made you wonder if she was really playing into the Ice Queen vibes. 

“Another fan?” She sighed, as though your presence was the biggest inconvenience to her. “Honey, he can take pictures with you after dinner—”

“That’s fine, we’re done here,” you quickly corrected, ignoring the patronising tone in her voice or the way that Charles still looked like he had more to say. “I won’t be bothering either of you anytime soon.” 

You turned on your heels before either one of them had a chance to drag out the interaction any longer than it needed it to be. You weaved through the tables before making your way towards the table your family had chosen, settling yourself in the free seat beside Evan.

“That was Charles Leclerc!” 

You hummed, grabbing your fork as you began to dig in. “Unfortunately so.” 

“Dude, what the hell!” Evan hissed, pinching your side until you let out a small squeak and turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

You frowned. “I don’t.”

“You were talking to him for ages!” Evan countered. 

“He was just being a dick,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Plus, that was probably the last time I’ll ever talk to him.” 

Harper snorted. “And you didn’t even get him an autograph.”

“Not that I would ask,” you prefaced before shaking your head. “But I doubt he would have given me one anyways. We…got off on the wrong foot.” 

“It’s Charles Leclerc,” Evan scoffed. “There is no wrong foot.” 

“Keep it in your pants, dickhead,” you teased, lightly pinching his side back in retaliation. “Even if I did get you an autograph, I would have shredded it after the Stormy stunt you just pulled.”

“But that’s your name,” Evan grinned.

“No, it’s what you called me for seven years because you couldn’t remember my name,” you retorted. 

“No, he remembered,” Harper piped in, a grin on her face that scarily matched her brother’s. “But with a temper like yours, Stormy just fits so much better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You both suck and so does Charles Leclerc.” 

“At least wait until dessert before you start insulting Evan’s boyfriend in front of him.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

…

You had expected that was the last time your path would ever cross with Charles Leclerc and, for the most part, it was. 

A few days passed and other than some awkward shared glances in the dining hall, you hadn’t found yourself caught in a conversation with the Ferrari driver after his attempted apology and you were intending to keep it that way until the end of your trip. You were happy to continue on with your holiday, even if you swore you could feel a pair of eyes watching you sometimes. 

However, it seemed like the universe was on a mission to get your hopes up before crumbling them back down again—and this time, it was in the form of another involuntary meeting with the Monegasque. 

You hadn’t even noticed the boy standing a few feet away from you with a group of his friends. You were stood next to Harper, listening to her ramble away as you waited in line for the ski lift to take you to the top of the mountain. It was fairly early, most of the resort residents still enjoying their breakfast inside which meant the queue wasn’t very long. You had been eager to get out on the snow early after being one of the last in the passing days. 

However, whilst you failed to notice the driver, it seemed like Harper had. 

She watched the boy continuously glance over at you, like he was eager to catch your eye. She watched as he slowly shuffled closer, like he was trying to gain the confidence to jump into the conversation. She watched Charles Leclerc act like a hopeless fool, and it was somewhat endearing to witness.

And maybe—just maybe—she was in the mood for some drama that the vacation in the ski resort very rarely gave her. 

You were already settled in your spot when you felt someone shuffling in the seat next to you. You felt the comfort bar come down and you turned with a smile, ready to continue your conversation with your best friend when you realised your best friend was not the person sitting next to you. 

No, it was Charles Leclerc. 

Your head whirled around, finding Harper standing in the queue with a grin on her face. You shot her a look, one that spoke more than a thousand words on just how you felt about her betrayal. However, the girl just laughed and waved you off as the lift began moving and it was far too late to get off. 

Your attention shifted to the boy beside you again, noticing the sheepish expression on his face and you let out a sigh. 

It was fine. Totally fine. The ski lift took around ten minutes to get to the top of the mountain. That was hardly anything, practically a blink of an eye if you were being honest. It would be a quick ride up, you wouldn’t even have to talk to him and you could easily ignore him by the time you made your way back down the mountain. It was all going to be so, so fine.

“So, uh, how are you this morning?” 

And suddenly, even a second felt like ten years passing. 

You kept your head facing forward, hoping the boy would catch the hint that you weren’t interested in small talk and would also remain silent. Though, considering the fact he was fidgeting in his seat, you doubted the boy could keep quiet for longer than thirty seconds.

“The weather is great, right?”

Your brows furrowed together. The weather? Really?

“The pancakes were also really good at breakfast this morning. Did you have any?” He continued, only pausing for a moment when he realised you were making a point of not answering him. “Stormy?”

One simple word and that was enough for you to break your silence.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, a little harsher than you truly intended but the sentiment remained.

Charles blinked. “You don’t want me to call you your name?”

“It’s not my name,” you replied. 

He blinked again. “But in the dining hall—”

“It’s a nickname—one that Evan likes to wind me up with because he thinks I’m moody,” you explained before realising the boy didn’t really deserve an explanation. Not when you were adamant to keep this conversation short. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, I can see where he gets it from,” Charles said with a small snort. 

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

Seeming to realise what he said and just how it sounded out loud, it was almost comical to watch Charles’ lips part before he awkwardly gaped at his previous comment. “Not like that! I just meant—”

“Whatever,” you muttered as you turned to face forwards again, pleading for the lift to somehow reach the top of the mountain already.

“Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I intended this to go,” Charles admitted, almost sounding a bit pained when he said it, as though he wasn’t used to admitting he was wrong. “I wanted to properly apologise. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you, and I definitely shouldn’t have brushed it off as anything except how you felt.” 

You paused, brows furrowing together as you turned to face him with a curious expression.

Charles blinked. “What?”

“I was just waiting to see if there was a ‘but’ coming,” you confessed.

“No buts,” he assured, pausing for a moment before his cheeks burned pink. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s it.”

You let out a sigh, wishing that some part of you was suspicious about his apology but you weren’t. He sounded genuine, and as much as you wanted to—and still partially did—believe he was a bit of a pompous prick, you couldn’t fault that his apology seemed sincere.

“I accept your apology,” you said, your voice a little strained before you continued. “And I’m also sorry for being a bit of a bitch.”

Charles’ lips parted. “Oh no, you weren’t—”

“I was a little,” you said, your lips twitching upwards as the boy gave you a nervous smile. “I can assure you I won’t be telling any gossip pages about what an asshole Charles Leclerc is.” 

He actually laughed in response, despite the fact that alone would probably make his PR team bury him six feet under before the next season started. “I appreciate that, Stormy.”

You glowered at the nickname, but it only seemed to make the Monegasque laugh harder. 

…

Despite the exchange of apologies on the ski lift, you expected that to be your last proper interaction with Charles. 

You were also quickly realising that every time—so far—you had assumed as much, you would find yourself face to face with the driver once again. And this time was no different, except it came much earlier than a few days. It happened later that very same day.

You had made your way into the dining hall, grabbing a plate and beginning to survey the large buffet when you felt the warmth of another person standing beside you. You felt a hand brush your arm and turned to find Charles smiling at you. 

“Bonjour, mon ami.” 

You blinked. “What?”

His smile widened. “It means—”

“No, I know what it means,” you quickly corrected, shaking your head a little. “I just…didn’t realise we were friends.”

Charles’ brows furrowed together. “Why wouldn’t we be? I thought we had made up on the ski lift.” 

“Yes but, other than that, we are strangers,” you said to him like it was obvious—and to you, it was. Beyond a few misunderstandings and awkward apologies, the man in front of you was as much a friend to you as any of the other guests in the lodge.

“Well, we can change that now!” He said, and that smile returned to his face. “Turn over a new book or whatever the saying is.” 

Much to your own surprise, you found yourself laughing a little at his response. “Charles, I—”

“STORMY, HURRY UP OR I AM DRINKING YOUR WINE!” 

Both your and Charles’ head snapped over to Evan who was holding a wine glass in each hand, a large smile plastered on his face and a twinkle in his eyes that promised mischief. His hair was still wet from the shower he took before dinner, meaning it was slick back and giving him an almost wannabe Bond villain look. 

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to look at the driver. Only you found Charles still looking in Evan’s direction, something contemplative and almost begrudging in his gaze. 

“You okay?”

Charles turned to face you, and it took a mere second for the glare to disappear and be replaced with his bright smile once again. “Yeah, of course. It seems like you’re wanted elsewhere though.”

“He’s a menace,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes but the fondness was clear in your voice. “I love him even if he’s a pain in the ass.”

Charles only let out a contemplative hum as a goodbye as you headed towards the table where your family and the Montgomery’s were sitting. And maybe if you looked over at him as much as he did with you over the course of the dinner, you would have seen Charles looking a little too bitter every time your eyes were on Evan instead of him.

…

A week had passed in the resort and the Christmas spirit was starting to truly spread as the festive holiday quickly approached. 

Your parents and the Montgomery parents had decided to pass on the slopes, instead choosing to visit infamous glacier caves that had been advertised and talked about by some locals in the lodge. You, Harper and Evan had declined the offer to join them, though the excitement of no parents being around—despite the fact all three of you were firmly in your twenties—seemed to spark a shift in energy in Evan that could only be described as childlike. 

“I have a proposition.” 

Harper already let out a groan, tilting her head back as she did. You couldn’t see her eyes beneath her goggles, but you imagined she was rolling them. “God, no.”

Evan frowned. “You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“Your ideas are shit,” Harper said to her brother. “And usually dangerous.”

“No, they aren’t,” Evan scoffed.

You shrugged. “You don’t have a great track record, if we are being honest.”

“Whatever,” Evan grumbled before grinning at the two of you. “First two to reach the bottom wins. Sabotaging each other’s run is allowed. Loser has to do the forfeit.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “What’s the forfeit?” 

“Loser has to streak in the snow,” he grinned.

“I am not streaking in the snow,” Harper scoffed.

“Then, you better hope you win,” the older Montgomery countered with a grin. 

And begrudgingly, you and Harper agreed to his childish idea.

It wasn’t the first time a silly competition between the three of you got out of hand, and you truly doubted it would be the last. With no rules set and no parents to even try to intervene, it didn’t take very long before the competition got dirty and the run down the slopes became more chaotic. 

You had been running behind Harper, secure in second place and watching her movements closely to look for any weakness that you could exploit. However, you had failed to realise that Evan—who had been running behind after he almost skied into a group of people—was quickly catching up on you. 

You didn't realise until it was too late.

You let out a noise of surprise when you found the boy right by your side, one that quickly became a series of curses when you realised what he was doing. You tried to move away when you noticed him turning into you, but you were too slow and it only put you in a worse position when his pole lodged itself between your skis. 

He was long gone by the time you tumbled into the snow, cackling loudly as he went. You let out a groan of frustration as you turned until you were lying on your back. You winced a little as you tried to awkwardly scramble up onto your feet in hopes of catching up with the Montgomery siblings, but the second a bit of pressure was placed on your ankle, you were crying out in pain and your ass hit the snow once again.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you sat in the snow, tears welling in your lash line at the shot of pain up your leg. 

“Cherie!” 

You lifted your head when you noticed someone skidding to a stop beside you. You blinked at them in a moment of confusion, but the second they removed their goggles and pulled down their mask, you found Charles—or at least, a very worried and concerned version of him—looking down at you. 

He took you in, noticing the glossy sheen to your eyes before he turned back to look over his shoulder, letting out a string of curse words that you were certain were not in English before his attention returned to you.

“Are you okay? What hurts? Is something broken? Should I call for them to send a helicopter—” 

“Charles,” you quickly interrupted the rambling boy. “I’m fine. I’ve probably just sprained my ankle.” 

“Yeah, because of him,” Charles grumbled, mostly under his breath like he had no real intention for you to hear the snide remark.

“It was a joke,” you waved him off, but that only seemed to upset the boy further.

“A joke?” He repeated, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You’re hurt. It’s hardly a funny joke.”

“Charles, calm down.”

The boy just scoffed, shaking his head before he lodged his poles into the snow, keeping them off the main trail before he turned to you and offered his hand. 

You looked at him expectantly. 

“Let me help you get down to the lodge,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. 

“Charles—” You began, but he wasn’t having it.

“No, cherie, I am not going to leave you here when you’re injured and alone,” he said, emphasising the last word in particular as he glanced around, almost like he had to remind you that Harper and Evan were most likely at the bottom of the slope by now. 

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, taking his gloved hand in yours as you allowed him to pull you up, keeping your weight on him with ease. “This doesn’t mean we are friends though, Charles.”

He only grinned at you, the first time he seemed a little more like himself since he stopped to check on you.

“Whatever you want to say, Stormy.”

…

As expected, you had sprained your ankle and were advised to take it easy for the next few days. 

And you were banned from hitting the slopes in fear of making the sprain worse. 

You wanted to be annoyed about the situation—and a small part of you was—but honestly, a few days in the lodge with some peace and quiet seemed like a dream. As much as you loved your family and the Montgomery’s, you needed a break from how loud and giddy and excited they were.

And as the days quickly approached Christmas, it felt like a nice relief to have some time to yourself before the festivities truly took over. 

You had waved them off after breakfast with a smile, teasing them not to miss you too much as they headed towards the slopes. Evan had offered to stay inside with you, even just for today, because of the guilt that he was the one to put you in the position. But you just rolled your eyes, assuring him you were more than happy to sit by the fireplace by the foyer and enjoy a day where you didn’t have to fall flat on your ass in the snow. 

You had been a few chapters into your book, curled up on the couch with your ankle elevated on a pillow with a blanket thrown over you when Charles and his friends made their way downstairs, prepped and ready with the intentions of heading out to the slopes. 

But the boy spotted you and found his feet moving in a different direction. 

“Stormy!”

You lifted your head, unable to even find it in yourself to be annoyed by his constant use of the nickname when he had a pretty smile on his face whenever he said it. He was bundled up in layers, probably on his way to the equipment kiosk before he headed for the lift. He looked comical next to the fire.

“My knight in shining armour,” you greeted, a teasing tilt in your voice but the boy missed it as he took in your appearance. “You look warm.”

“You’re staying in today?” 

You nodded. “Doc’s orders.”

“Alone?” 

You nodded once again. “I told the others they could—”

“I’ll stay with you!”

He said it so quickly that it took you a few seconds before you realised just what he had said. You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “You’re at a ski resort and you don’t want to go skiing?”

“I’ve been skiing every day since I got here,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I can handle not skiing for a day.”

You flashed him a smile. “It’s fine, you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” he countered, the words passing his lips with ease.

You hated the way your chest tightened a little at his words. “Oh.”

Charles smiled at your response. 

“Charles, hurry up!” 

You missed the way his brows furrowed together at the voice when you turned to look at the woman standing a few feet away, looking impatient and slightly annoyed. It was the same woman from the other week, the one that looked a little too much like the cold weather personified. You had learnt over the passing days her name was Melanie, but that was about as far as your knowledge on the woman went, other than her clear attitude. 

Charles let out a sigh before he replied, a slightly more strained smile on his face. “Go on without me. I’m gonna stay in the lodge today.”

Melanie frowned. “Why?”

“Because I want to,” Charles stated simply, and the repeated words made your chest feel funny again. 

Melanie glanced over at you and then Charles, and then back to you again. Her eyes were narrowed and her glare felt icy, but before she could even think of saying anything, a friend from the group was calling out to her and she had no choice but to join them. 

Charles turned back to you, an easy smile on his lips once again. “So…what’s the plan?” 

You snorted. “To sit here because I’m practically bedbound, unless I want to hobble somewhere.” 

Charles pressed his lips together. “Well, sitting by the fire with no hot chocolate is sacrilege.” 

Your nose scrunched up. “But I don’t have cookies. Hot chocolate by itself isn’t fun without homemade Christmas cookies.”

“Then we will make them,” Charles said.

You rolled your eyes. “And where are we making them? In our rooms with a kettle, tap water and no other ingredients?”

“Please,” Charles said with a scoff, a glint in his eyes as he looked down at you with a proud glint in his eyes. “I am Charles Leclerc. I have my ways.”

You weren’t sure what strings he pulled, who he bribed or just what he blackmailed the lodge owners with, but you were filled with a sort of unease when Charles returned twenty minutes later. He had changed out of his heavy ski gear into a pair of jeans and a sweater that looked insanely cosy. And he had told you that he needed you to close your eyes, to trust him enough to carry you to the destination with a promise that all the drama would be worth it.

He looked so damn proud when he brought you to the lodge’s kitchen with bowls and whisks and ingredients sprawled across the counter—it made that funny feeling in your chest return. 

“How did you manage this?” You asked, an incredulous laugh leaving your lips when he sat you on the counter. 

“I’m Charles Leclerc, I can get anything I want,” he said, and once upon a time, you would have rolled your eyes and thought he was a pompous dick. You still thought he was a little cocky, but it was an endearing trait now. 

You raised your brows. “Do you, Charles Leclerc, know how to bake?”

“Nope,” he said honestly but he was still smiling. “But I am sure I can make something edible with you guiding me.”

“Smooth,” you snorted. “Don’t blame me if they taste like shit.”

As it would turn out, Charles had an overbearing need to be in control of everything. You guessed it came with the lifestyle, the fact his life is always in the palm of his own hands whenever he sat in a car that raced hundreds of miles an hour. However, it seemed like it also extended to the Monegasque ignoring your very clear and correct instructions to do something he insisted was the right way.

“In what fucking world do you need that much sugar?” You remarked, lips parted in shock as you watched the boy add more. 

“They are sugar cookies, cherie, it’s in the name,” Charles retorted.

“That doesn’t mean the batter should be seventy-five percent sugar!” You huffed as you reached over to try and grab the bag of sugar from him. “You are going to make us both diabetic with one of those damn cookies. Don’t you have a diet you are meant to be following?” 

Charles only grinned, a little mischievous. “Yeah but it’s Christmas.”

You shook your head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“And you’re bossy,” he countered. 

“And I’m right,” you insisted as you frowned at the batter, wondering if it would be easier to just toss it out and start again. “It’s not my fault you don’t have the ego to handle it.”

“Or your ego can’t handle the challenge,” Charles said, something shining in his eyes like his words had a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite understand. “Tell me you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head a little. “You think you’re the only man to talk back to me, Leclerc?”

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I would like to think I’m the best.” 

You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes darkened, the way it seemed to surge some sort of competition inside him. You couldn’t help but want to play on his fragile male ego a little more.

“And if I said you weren’t?” You questioned, pressing your lips together in a poor attempt to hide your smirk. 

Charles breathed out of his nose, his jaw clenching a little before he replied. “Then I would say Evan is a lucky man to have you.”

And just like that, your smirk dropped. 

“What?” 

Charles frowned a little. “I would say Evan is a lucky man,” he repeated, the words sounding a little forced as they left his lips. “You two seem like…a great match even if he does leave you abandoned on a ski slope after—”

“Oh my god, no!” You blanched, your shoulders hunching up to your ears as you shook your head. “Ew, no! Absolutely not!”

Charles blinked. “Huh?”

“Me and Evan—” You swallowed hard, unable to even get the words out. “It’s not like that between us. I have known him forever, he’s like a brother to me.” 

“Oh,” Charles murmured, taking a few seconds before he grinned. “Oh!” 

“Yeah, oh,” you grumbled.

Charles couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “So, you aren’t—”

“Nope.”

“With Evan or anyone?”

“No one.”

“Good.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the giddiness written across his face. If someone told you it was Christmas morning, you would have believed them. “Subtle, Charles.”

“Subtle is my middle name.”

…

The next day, you met Charles by the foyer fireplace, but this time he was prepared with his own book. 

The day after, he was there again but both your books were quickly abandoned as you chatted away. 

The day after that, neither of you bothered to bring your books down. 

Despite your insistence that he should be out on the slopes enjoying his vacation and the downtime he had in between seasons, Charles was adamant that he was doing exactly what he deemed relaxing. And just like he said earlier, Charles Leclerc gets what he wants—and it seemed he wanted to spend his days huddled in the lodge with you. 

Everyone noticed the budding relationship between you and Charles, but nobody said a word. Well, your family and the Montgomery parents didn’t say a word. Harper and Evan on the other hand? They wouldn’t leave you alone.

Harper was cackling at the irony. She was throwing your words back in your face, teasing the way seemed to switch your opinion on the Monegasque driver in the span of a week and looked down right smitten for the boy. She teased you over the fact it took you almost two months before you went on a date with your ex-boyfriend, and here you were having daily fireplace dates with the boy you called an asshole less than a week ago. She was embracing her full right as your best friend to annoy the fuck out of you. 

Evan was a whole other story. The boy looked like a kicked puppy every time you came back from hanging out with Charles, only to tell him you didn’t get him an autograph nor did you bring into the conversation how cool he was or how amazing he was or how he and Charles would totally get on if you introduced them. You didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that up until seventy-two hours ago, Charles didn’t like him through a bizarre assumption.

It had been constant and annoying, but in a way that made your heart feel full because you knew no matter what, at least those two would support every decision you made. Even if they got unbearable during the meal times where Charles would find any excuse to come talk to you. 

Tonight was no different as he approached you with a smile spread across his face and something dangerous and promising shining in his eyes. You were sitting at the table alone whilst everyone else headed towards the tables to fill their plates—yours in Harper’s hand—and you were grateful for the small moment of peace as he leaned down. 

“Missing me already?” You teased. 

He shrugged, though he didn’t disagree. “I have a very important message for you.” 

You raised your brows in question. “Oh?” 

Instead of saying anything, the boy just grinned wider and handed you a small piece of paper. You frowned a little at it, looking up at him in confusion but the boy was already taking a few steps away from your table.

“Charles—”

But the boy just winked before turning on his heel, heading back to the table the rest of his friends were sitting at, where they were probably watching the whole interaction even if they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. 

You glanced down at the note in your hand, lips turned downwards as you opened the folded paper. It baffled you that he couldn’t just say what he had written down, but another part of you warmed a little at the idea that he had taken the time to write the note and go through with it—regardless of it being a bit silly. 

You couldn’t bite back your smile when you read the note. 

meet me @ midnight. my room number is 161. wear something cosy :) 

You snorted, shaking your head as every cell in your body thrummed in excitement to meet the boy you once hated later that night. 

…

“The note was cute, but I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just ask me to hang out.” 

“Because that’s not fun.”

“You just handed me the note, that’s hardly any different.”

“It was like a real life text, cherie. It’s how they used to do it back in the day.”

You snorted in response. 

You had listened to his advice, deciding that a hoodie and pyjama bottoms were the way to go as you snuck up to the floor he was staying at. Your knuckles had barely grazed the door before it was yanked open, a grinning boy on the other side. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie and grey sweatpants, his hair pushed back with a bandana and a pair of glasses sat on his nose.

He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before he was dragging you inside.

It should have been obvious that Charles Leclerc of all people would have a suite but truthfully, you hadn’t even realised the lodge had master suites as big as this one. But it did. And it was huge. And you expected nothing less for the Monegasque. 

There were multiple different rooms that veered off the large living room: one that was furnished with a massive tv, soft plush sofas and a large fireplace that looked like it was straight out the front of a Christmas card. Surprisingly, it was decorated for the festive season with even a tree settled in the corner between the armchairs. It felt homely. It felt perfect for this midnight meeting. 

However, you didn’t get much of a chance to look around before he was dragging you out onto the balcony. There was a loveseat set up with pillows and blankets, and a small table set with hot chocolate and a plate of cookies (ones he assured you he had the chef make fresh). 

“I never took you to be so traditional,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders as a light breeze hit you. “But I guess you have to make do since you haven’t even asked for my number.”

Charles raised his brows. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to hurry up and ask for it?” 

“Subtle is my middle name,” you retorted, his own repeated words thrown back in his face but they seemed to light a spark inside him. 

Charles’ eyes dropped to your lips for a few passing beats before they returned to your eyes, and you saw everything written in them. This was different to the days you had spent down in the foyer. Everyone could see you both. You could see everyone. It was public and out in the open and exposed. 

But here?

It was just you and him and the pretty night sky that shone and glittered with stars. You were away from the world, from reality. You were away from your family and friends. You were away from peering eyes and judgemental looks. You were in a bubble you never wanted to leave, huddled in thick wool blankets and desperately hoping he would close the minimal distance between you both. 

His lips were a hairbreadth away from brushing against yours when another breeze caressed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that momentarily jolted you away from him.

“You’re cold,” he noted, though it was pretty obvious when you two were both outside in minimal layers. “Let’s get inside. We can warm up by the fire.”

And a part of you wanted to scream off the balcony into the French Mountains when he stood up, when the moment broke and his lips weren’t against yours. But as angry as you wanted to be, you were grateful when he guided you to sit in front of the fire as he added more wood to the dying embers.

His thigh was brushing against yours when he settled into the spot beside you on the floor, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold as he grinned at you before holding his hands out to the fire. You laughed, following suit and the conversation from moments before the almost-kiss returned. 

However, minutes passed and your body was still racked with small shivers that Charles quickly picked up on.

“C’mere,” he murmured as he lifted his arm, giving you little time to dispute (not that you were going to) as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you into his side.

You didn’t think about it too much as you buried yourself into his embrace, as you pressed your cheek into his hoodie and enjoyed the way his hand seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever he touched. 

“If I get hypothermia and die, I’m coming back to haunt you and your sugar cookies,” you grumbled, though it was lighthearted as you pressed your nose further into the fabric of his hoodie. 

His chest shook underneath you as he laughed and tightened his hold on you. “I would never let anything happen to you, Stormy.”

“You and that stupid nickname,” you said as you let out a long sigh. “You know my actual name now. You have no excuse to use it.”

“Yeah, but it suits you,” Charles retorted, letting out a small noise of surprise when your cold fingers pinched his side. “Plus, you get this…uh, what’s the word…cute look on your face when you’re angry.” 

Your head snapped up to glare at him. “I don’t look cute when I’m angry.”

His face brightened. “Yes! That face! C’est mignon!"

Your eyes narrowed further. “Don’t pull the cute French card, it’s not gonna help you.”

“You think my French is cute?” Charles replied, his laugh echoing through the suite as you rolled your eyes.

“You drivers and your egos,” you grumbled.

“Have a lot of experience with drivers?” Charles questioned, a hint of something unreadable in his voice.

You snorted, both of you knowing the answer to that question but you played along. “Maybe I do.” 

His eyes darkened slightly. “What about kissing them?”

And just like that, Charles Leclerc had left you speechless for what felt like the millionth time since you met him.

His gaze was locked on your lips, the crackling of the fire felt like it was booming through the silent room and you were truly wondering if your heart was going to burst through your chest and splat on the floor in front of you both. 

“I can’t say I have much experience in that department,” you admitted once you managed to choke your words out.

His lips twitched upwards. “Would you like some experience, Stormy?” 

You didn’t know if you nodded or if he just took the signs of your flustered, stuttering mess and took mercy on you. You didn’t know if his hand reached to cup your face first or if it was your hand on the nape of his neck instead. You didn’t know if it was you moaning lowly into the kiss when his tongue darted out or if it was him. 

Kissing Charles Leclerc was overwhelming and world-altering and, truthfully, you didn’t think you could even utter your own name if someone asked you at that moment. 

“Merde,” he groaned before he kissed you harder, faster, more passionately. His other hand reached for your waist, those muscles hidden under his baggy hoodie put to good use as he hauled you onto his lap.

Your knees sat on either side of his hips, your ass firmly planted on his lap as the new position allowed you to fully wrap your arms around his neck. The boy’s hands dropped to your waist, squeezing and guiding as your hips shifted in his lap as his kisses left you seeking anything he would give you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted when he had to pull away, when his lungs were burning for air. But you still wanted more, you sought out to keep hearing those pretty noises he made as your lips trailed down his neck. “So fucking long.”

“You took your time,” you muttered between open-mouthed kisses when his hold tightened as your lips passed a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear.

“You hated me for a majority of the time we’ve known each other,” he managed to utter out, his head falling back as your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“Does it look like I hate you now?” You retorted, something about the back and forth feeling as thrilling and exciting as his fingers fiddling with the hem of your hoodie.

Charles’ eyes caught yours as you lifted your head from his neck, lips red and swollen and fuck, he wanted to kiss you again. “I think I need a little more convincing.”

“Yeah?” You watched as he nodded, a little too eager but it made your stomach twist in the best way possible. “Well, you did promise to keep me warm.”

“I did,” he murmured, his voice a little rough and husky.

“Warm me up, Leclerc,” you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands squeezing your waist before your lips even touched. “And then I’ll decide if I hate you still.”

A choked noise of surprise left your lips when Charles suddenly moved. You were no longer sitting on his lap, but instead had been laid back on the floor with the boy now hovering over you. He flashed you a smile, one twisted with promises that made your chest feel tight.

You waited for him to lean down and kiss you again. You waited to feel his heated touch on your body. You waited for him to finally slide his hands under the fabric of your hoodie, to feel his fingers along your bare skin. 

But instead, he just looked at you with so much fondness in his eyes.

“What?” You questioned, and suddenly the idea of being naked underneath him was no longer the most exposed you felt.

“Nothing,” he said simply as he shook his head. “Just…wanted to make sure.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Of what?”

“That you’re okay with this,” Charles said as he finally lifted his hand, as he let his fingers brush across the apple of your cheek. You could feel your skin heating up underneath his touch. “I want you to know that I’m happy to just talk. I don’t want you to think I just invited you here to—”

“Charles,” you interrupted, and the boy fell quiet as his cheeks flushed pink. “I want to.”

He tried to bite back his smile. “Yeah?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah.”

And despite the reassurance and despite the heat in your body that just wanted to throw your legs over the boy and ride him until the sun came up, Charles Leclerc was nothing, if not a gentleman. And something about that made it so much hotter. 

His touch was always so confident but gentle. The way his lips pressed against yours, the way his tongue caressed yours as his fingers slowly peeled away the layers of clothes between the two of you. The way he paused to set down pillows and a blanket to make it comfier for you before his fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and discarding them someplace else.

The way you reached down to cup his bulge in his boxers, prepared to slip your hand beneath the elastic of his boxers and stroke the length of him—only to have your hands batted away. You barely got a chance to question him before his kisses silenced you, before they began moving south and you felt his lips on every inch of your exposed skin that he could reach. 

You felt breathless by the time he was between your legs. You felt like your head was spinning with pleasure as he hooked his arms around your thighs and happily settled between them. You felt like you were in some sugar cookie induced dream as you glanced down, catching his eager eyes watching every little move and reaction you made.

The fire was roaring a few feet away, loud and proud and yet, it was his touch and whispered words that made your whole body feel like lava was coursing through your veins. It was the way his tongue swiped and licked your needy pussy, the way his lips wrapped around your clit until your back was arching off the ground. It was the way Charles murmured soft praises as his hands reached out for yours, as he intertwined your fingers and softly squeezed as you came on his tongue once, twice until you felt like a pile of bones. 

It was the way he smiled down at you like his face wasn’t glistening with your release. The way he leaned down to kiss you with the taste of yourself still on his tongue. It was the way he was fully prepared to leave it there, let you rest, spend the rest of the night listening to the random rants he could coax out of you. 

Charles only let out a surprised noise when you pushed him onto his back, as you straddled him like you fantasised about earlier and reached between your bodies to squeeze his aching cock.

You knew Charles Leclerc was pretty, even in the days where you thought you despised the man. It was an undeniable fact that he was easy on the eyes, that he was gorgeous, that he had one of those faces that didn’t make him feel like he was a real human. 

But he was undoubtedly prettier when you were sinking down on his cock, walls squeezing him as his lips parted to let out a string of curse words in a handful of languages you didn’t speak. 

His hands were all over you, his lips never stopped moving  and all it took was a slight lapse in your tempo as you rocked back and forth for the boy to grip your hips, hold you up with ease and fuck up into you.

You were a puddle on his chest, his lips right beside your ear as he whispered filthy words to you. His hands and kisses were gentle when it felt like you could feel his cock in your throat from how deep inside he was. Charles Leclerc was a fucking enigma that you didn’t ever want to work out. 

And even after he did most of the work, even after he was breathless and flushed and fucked out, you were still the first thing on his mind. Your comfort, your pleasure, just you.

“Cherie,” he murmured softly, the accent seeming a little thicker as he spoke. “We should move to the bed.”

“No,” your words muffled as you nuzzled yourself further into his chest, content where you were with your legs tangled together and your naked bodies pressed together. “I’m comfy here. Beside you.”

“Okay,” was all he said in response as he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head and pulled the blanket over the both of you before holding you closer—if that was even possible.

…

The first thing you noted when you woke up was how comfortable the ground felt beneath you.

The second thing was that you were no longer on the floor, but on a very comfy bed with a mattress that felt like it was a cloud.

Your hand blindly reached out to your side, expecting to feel a solid, warm body and probably a disgruntled curse from a certain Monegasque, but it never came. Your brows furrowed together, your hand continuing to pat the bed but it felt cold under your touch. 

For a short moment, you wondered if you had dreamt it all. You wondered if it was just a hyper-realistic dream where you swore you could still feel his touch on you, if it was all a part of your imagination. 

And then, from the other side of the door, you heard a voice. 

Your lips unknowingly tilted upwards as you sat up in bed, the sheet falling to your waist as you did. You stretched out your limbs, moving with no real rush as you grabbed the first piece of clothing you could find—a shirt of Charles’ that rested at your thighs—before making your way towards the door. 

You pushed the door open, expecting to find him lounging on the couch as he talked away to whoever he was on the phone with, but he wasn’t. You leaned your head out, peeking around to instead finding him on the balcony, the door still open to let his voice and a chilly breeze carry through into the suite.

You contemplated bracing the cold and making your way towards the balcony, to wrap your arms around his waist and settle into the warmth of him as he finished his call. Your hand moved to pull the door open wider, but then the muffled voice became actual words and you froze.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. She never has. Why should I care now?”

You frowned a little. 

“I was doing her a favour, for no other reason.”

Your stomach churned, but you tried to ease your thoughts that were threatening to spiral.

“I’m not going to ever see her again after this trip, what’s the big deal anyways?”

But that? That was your final straw.

You felt sick to your stomach as you rushed around the room, staying as silent as you could as you redressed yourself. Your head felt like it was spinning, like you couldn’t even keep up with your own thoughts. You wanted to feel angry and spiteful, and maybe you did. 

But most of all, you just felt disappointed. 

In yourself. In the situation. In the man you thought Charles Leclerc was. 

You were fighting down the bile that felt like it was rising up your throat when you finally slipped out of his suite. He was still on the phone, still on the balcony when you left. And he probably wouldn’t even realise you were gone until you were safely back in your own room, where you could let everything hit you at once and let the tears threatening to spill finally fall. 

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe he was that kind of guy, another asshole that you had laid yourself out in front of, only for it to be thrown back in your face. You wanted to believe he was the gentleman you saw, touched and kissed last night. 

But the truth of the matter was that Charles Leclerc was just another name on your list of men who disappointed you, and you didn’t want to see his stupid, perfect face ever again.

…

Charles was absolutely fucking baffled. 

He felt like he was missing a key bit of information in his own life, and no matter how many times he replayed the last week or so in his head, he couldn’t work out what he was doing wrong. 

After a season of disappointing races and a team that played with his strategy like a fucking water balloon being thrown around by a group of toddlers, Charles wanted an escape. He wanted a place away from journalists and fans and everyone who even knew who he was. He just wanted a break from his own life.

The vacation at The Chalet was meant to just be that, but it became so much more.

For the first time in a long time, Charles felt like himself again. He felt happy. He was excited for the new year, he was excited for the future, he was excited for what possibly lay ahead of him. He felt like he was in some dream, but it wasn’t a dream. It was his reality and he woke up every day eager to know what amazing thing would happen to him—to know what amazing day he would have with you.

But that dream seemed to crumble into pieces when he realised you were ignoring him.

He didn’t try to take it too personally when he headed back into the bedroom that morning, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold weather but eager to spend a few lazy hours with you in between the sheets. He was eager to make you smile and maybe kiss you, maybe do something more.

But disappointment hit his chest when he saw the empty room. 

He just assured himself that you probably had to head back to your room before your family and friends woke up, or maybe you wanted to freshen up. He assured himself he would see you at breakfast and everything would be fine. 

But it wasn’t fine because you weren’t at breakfast. He waited in case you came at the end, but you didn’t. 

He waited for you at the usual spot in the foyer, but you never came.

He waited for you at lunch and dinner too, but you never came. 

The next day, he almost expected the same and was preparing himself to ask one of your friends if you were okay, but he was shocked to find you sitting in your usual place at breakfast. He smiled at you, something in his chest easing as he made a step in your direction, but the dirty glare you sent his way was enough to make him stop in his tracks. 

You didn’t turn up to the foyer that day either but between the dirty looks from you and the fact he was pretty sure Harper tried to trip him up at the coffee stand, he knew something was wrong. 

He just didn’t know what.

And every time he tried to get near you, tried to talk to you, it was a pathetically failed attempt that left that competitive streak inside his chest blaring with annoyance. 

You were ignoring him and he didn’t know why.

And then he saw it, three days after you started ignoring him. He was making his way into the dining hall, having just showered after a day in the slopes his friends dragged him out for, when he saw you and Evan by the buffet. 

Your eyes found his and something in his chest sparked. 

And then his eyes fell to the way your hand rested on Evan’s arm, the way you leaned into him as you laughed, the way Evan’s arm was thrown over your shoulder as you both walked back to your table. He watched as you both sat next to each other, so close your thighs were probably  pressed together under the table and something bitter settled in his stomach. 

He knew he had no real reason to be jealous. Especially between the fact that you yourself had assured him everything between you and Evan was platonic (if not familial) and the fact there was no real talk of anything being between you and himself other than a shitload of chemistry. 

But even logic didn’t stop the jealousy he felt.

His appetite was gone after that, as he turned around and headed back to his suite that felt a little bittersweet after the amazing night and shit morning he had with you. But he wasn’t in the mood to eat or pine for you from a distance. 

Charles was sick and tired of you ignoring him, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. 

And the first step in his plan had everything to do with the blond you were currently laughing and touching. He just needed to get Evan alone.

…

It was Christmas Eve when Charles’ plan finally reached its final step—to finally talk to you.

It felt like an odd sense of deja vu when you woke up that morning, making your way down for breakfast before you got ready for the slopes that day. You thought nothing off the weird looks Evan was giving you or the way he seemed giddier than usual, because truthfully it was no different to how Evan usually was on Christmas Eve. 

You put down his eagerness to head towards the slopes under the assumption he probably had some weird challenge for you and Harper at the top. You just hoped this one wouldn’t result in another sprained ankle. 

“I’m riding with you today, Stormy,” Evan said as the three of you headed towards the ski lift.

“Uh, get in line, loser,” Harper spoke up as she stood on the other side of you. “I called dibs.” 

Evan narrowed his eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I did just now,” Harper retorted. 

“Does it really matter?” You questioned, amused as you glanced between the two of them.

“Yes!”

“No!” 

Harper and Evan turned to glare at each other, confusion from one of them and insistence from the other. However, you just laughed and shook your head. 

“Fine, first one to the lift wins!” 

You were already settled in the lift as you heard the two of them bickering to each other. You waited to see which one would win, to see who would settle in the spot next to you. However, what you failed to notice was the way Evan all but threw himself on top of his sister so she couldn’t reach the lift before someone else did. 

You turned, a smile on your face as you waited to greet the winning Montgomery, but instead you found yourself staring at a painfully familiar set of green eyes. 

And in an instant, your smile dropped at the sight of Charles Leclerc sitting next to you. 

But before you could even think about jumping off the lift and taking the next seat, the lift was already too high up for you to do anything about it. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he said to break the silence.

But you didn’t respond.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me but at least hear me out,” Charles continued, a hint of desperation in his voice. “This is all a misunderstanding.” 

You kept your gaze facing forward.

“Evan told me what you thought happened that morning.”

And just like that, your head snapped around to stare at him, a mix of emotions going through you right now—though the biggest was possibly Evan’s betrayal. 

“You weren’t lying when you said he was a big fan,” he said with a nervous laugh. “It didn’t actually take much for him to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

“You used my friend?” You questioned, the bitterness and coldness in your voice evident.

“I asked and he gave me information,” Charles corrected before his shoulders sagged a bit. “Look, don’t blame him. He heard what I had to say and—”

“And I don’t care what you have to say so go talk to Evan about it,” you spat back at him, watching the way he winced at your words.

“Cherie—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Stormy—”

“And definitely don’t call me that.”

“Please,” Charles pleaded as he looked at you with wide eyes, ones that held so many emotions you did not want to see. “That phone call was not what you think.” 

You looked away at the mention of the phone call, something quite like anger and disgust bubbling inside you at the mere reminder of the words you heard that morning. “Just…stop it, Charles. I don’t care, okay? You go about your life and I’ll go about mine.”

“No,” he stated simply.

You scoffed. “What? You need another girl in another city to have fawning over you? The hundreds of others not enough?”

“No, because I am not interested in my life not having you in it. I am not interested in a hundred other girls.” The words were stated like they were facts. “Stormy, I just want you.”

You scoffed again but a hand tugging yours made you look over at Charles, fully prepared to pull your hand away. 

“I wasn’t talking about you on the phone that morning,” Charles quickly blurted out before you had a chance to say anything. “Everything you heard on the phone that morning, it wasn’t about you.”

You blinked.

“It was about Melanie.”

Your brows furrowed together, a crease forming between them that Charles had the urge to smooth out with his thumb, but he resisted.

“What?”

“She—” Charles paused for a moment, like he was trying to gather the correct words. “She’s not my friend, not really.”

You blinked again. “She’s not? But she acts—”

“She acts like we are, yes. She’s a friend of a friend, and that’s about all there is to her. She’s…uh, how do you say? She seems to have gained a crush on me? Or maybe it’s some weird obsession. I’m not quite sure,” Charles admitted with a frown. “She asked me out once, almost a year ago and I declined. But she has latched onto the group ever since and I couldn’t quite shake her off.”

You didn’t say anything, instead letting him continue. 

“She wasn’t even meant to be on this trip,” Charles confessed. “But she said to our mutual friend that she was alone this Christmas and…I just couldn’t say no, right? But she’s spent the last year acting like I didn’t reject her and I didn’t like the idea of being trapped up here with her. But even with all our other friends, she was always beside me. She was always there. And when she started to throw tantrums to our friends and make up stories after I started spending time with you, I had enough.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock.

“Turns out she told all our friends that we were together,” Charles said with a grimace. “That we wanted to keep it a secret from the media, and that meant I wanted to keep it from everyone. She tried to make it out like I was a monster to our friends when I started spending days with you. Thankfully, none of them believed a word she said but…it was just too much.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why you heard me ranting on the phone about not seeing her after this trip because I have no plans to be around her ever again and I made that clear to my friends. You can even ask them if you don’t believe me,” Charles said as he finally let out a long breath. He looked at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I would never say those things about you. Not when you might just be the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your cheeks burned. “Charles—”

“I know you feel it too,” he continued, and that desperate note to his voice returned. “I know you’ve felt it all week. I know you felt it that night. I know you feel like this—us—could be something.”

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered, closing your eyes as you realised the agonsing and the pain and the ignoring over the last few days could have been avoided if you stayed in the bedroom a little longer that morning. Or if you had just spoken to him instead of letting the pettiness take over.

“You had no reason to think otherwise about me, cherie, and I get that,” Charles said as he squeezed your hand, almost like a tester to see if you would pull away or not. But you didn’t. “But I want to change that. I want to explore this. I want to show you that I would never do that to you. I want to give you reasons to trust me.”

“I would like that,” you murmured in a soft voice, but Charles heard you loud and clear as he grinned at you. 

“Yeah? You don’t hate me still?” He questioned.

You laughed, shaking your head as you did. “I don’t think I ever hated you, Charles.”

“Good, it makes this easier then,” he said before he leaned in, his slightly chapped lips pressed against yours—and something about it felt like coming home. 

You sunk into his embrace, your hand coming up to cup his cheek like you needed to believe he was really there (even if the gloves made it a little awkward). But feeling him smile against your lips was assurance enough. 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Charles.” 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Stormy. I hope it’s one of many with you.” 

And maybe Charles Leclerc became another one of the many reasons you loved The Chalet.

.

[gguk-n]

Hello! I would like to ask a Latina reader with bf Max where is Christmas’s and her aunts keeps asking her where the boyfriend at and why she doesn’t have a boyfriend until max shows up and greets everyone, also can we make her cousins fans of f1, can everything be based in Mexico? Please wand thank you, this is my first request and I’m kinda excited, I love your writing! ❤️

Thank you for the love!! Google translated Spanish

Imaginary Boyfriend

{Reader's POV}

If you asked my mother if I had a boyfriend, she would say that I was lying to stop her from setting me up with the nice men who were looking to get married. But really, I did have a boyfriend. It's just that my boyfriend had to travel a lot for work and our schedule's never matched.

It had been a while since I had been home for Christmas, having spent most of my time slaving away at my job. "mi nieto, I'm getting old. You should come visit soon with your boyfriend for Christmas" my abuela suggested. "I will try this year, prometo" I promised her. I could hear my parents laughing in the background.

"Maxie, my abuela wants to meet you" I said playing with his fingers one day. "Really?" he asked. "Yup" I smiled. "Can't wait.....so when are we going?" he asked almost bouncing. "Christmas" I replied. "Can't wait to eat delicious food" he said fist bumping the air.

After the season end, we packed our bags and I took a few weeks off and we were back at my home. Max would be flying in a day later since he had some work at RedBull head quarters. I just had to survive one day with all the nagging. Then it would stop forever, once they meet Max.

When I got home, "Where's that boyfriend of yours?" my mother teased. "He has work, he'll be here tomorrow" I said. "It's ok to be single, just don't live in fantasy land" my father told me. I just shrugged and greeted my abuela who was reading the news paper. My abuela was the only one who understood that my boyfriend had work and would be here the next day. "The poor girl is tired get her food, she said she'll bring her boyfriend. Mi nieto never lies" she defended me like she always did growing up. I kissed her cheek and went up to get changed.

My aunts weren't any better. Their questions were relentless. "Where's that boyfriend of yours?" my father's sister asked. "He'll be here soon" I replied with a smile. I heard someone whisper about how I always said I had a boyfriend but they had never seen or heard from him. "I can set you up with my neighbour's son, he just started his own business, great kid" my mother's sister said patting my back. "No thank you, that would be cheating" I explained. She turned her nose up and walked away annoyed. I think I would've popped a nerve had Max not walked in the moment he did. He threaded the crowd of people to find me and gave me a hug and kissed my forehead. "How'd you get in?" I asked laughing. "You're cousins" he said pointing at the group of teenagers who had opened the door for him. "I think I would've committed a felony if you didn't come now" I whispered breathing his scent in. The room had gone silent. My abuela walked up to Max with her walking stick, "You must be Max, mi angel talks about you a lot" she said. My cheeks were red and Max smiled and greeted her. She gave Max a hug. He was soon surrounded by my relatives who wanted to make sure I didn't just pay him to be here.

My cousins looked like they wanted to ask both Max and I something but didn't. Max had bought gifts for everyone which we distributed after a while. When it was my cousin's turn, "You're Max Verstappen, right?" he asked. "yes" Max nodded. "No way!! My cousin's dating a Formula One champion" he shouted drawing attention to us for the second time tonight. The room had gone silent. My family wasn't huge on motor sports, being football fans themselves. But they knew what Formula One was because of Ayrton Senna.

The younger kids surrounded Max asking for pictures and autographs while I was taken away by my mother and aunts, "Why did you tell us?" my mother asked. "You never asked" I stated. She face palmed herself, "this is stuff you tell, I don't need to ask" she said. "You're dating a rich and famous athlete and you didn't tell us?" my mother's sister prodded. "It never came up in conversation. Plus, I make my own money, I don't need Max's" I said. "yeah we know, but having a rich man helps" my father's sister shook her head. "At least now I can stop worrying about you, make sure you marry him though" my mother laughed patting my back. I was thankfully able to escape them.

My abuela was sat watching everyone like always, I sat next to her. "You must miss abuelo" I said. "oh, I do, every minute of everyday" she sighed. "I miss him too. He would've loved Max" I said. "I know, that's why I know he's a good choice" she said. I smiled hugging her. "I miss you too abuela when I'm away" I said still hugging her. "I miss mi nieto too" she said pecking my cheek. "He's a catch, reminds me of your abuelo when he was younger." she smiled fondly. "Whether you marry him or not, I hope you two are happy for the time you two are together. Whether life or death tears you apart, I hope your love never dies" she said. "That's the best blessing I could've gotten" I smiled. "I always pray only for good things for you" my abuela said wrapping me in a hug. Max had finally freed himself of the crowd and was standing in front of us. "Take care of her" my abuela said placing my hand in his. "If you hurt her, I'll beat you up with this stick" she said holding up her walking stick. Max gulped hard and nodded. "Bend down" she told Max, he did. She pressed a kiss on his forehead. "Now you're my grandson too" she stated patting his hand. I saw tears well up in his eyes.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - all too well

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly) - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: you & logan were a thing, but in the end it all fell down

WORD COUNT: 3462 (excl. song lyrics)

GENRE: angsty

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language, lowercase ahead, this is my third story soooo..., ik ppl say that the scarf is a metaphor, but here it's just a scarf <3

italics is a flashback <3

listen to 'all too well' (five minute version) from taylor swift for better experience <3.

‘i walked through the door with you

the air was cold

but something about it felt like home somehow

and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house

and you've still got it in your drawer even now'

the autumn cold bit at my cheeks as i stepped out of the car. i looked at the mansion before me, the x-mansion. i walked towards the tall doors where logan was standing. he took my bags as i walked through the doors. the old wood creaked slightly under our weight.

almost immediately i felt the warmth of the school. i took off my scarf with my gloves and jacket, it smelt like hot chocolate in here. reminding me of the times i used to spend christmas with my parents waiting on my chocolate milk my mom used to make.

professor x welcomed me with a charming smile. his school was spacious yet cozy, every nook and wall filled with complementing wooden furniture. i placed my bags by the stairs as charles led us into the living area. the room smelled even more of cinnamon and chocolate.

time flew by in that living room, sounds of loud laughter and chatting filled the whole massion. it was times like these i appreciated the most. students came wandering inside and outside, either sitting with us for a while or getting some snacks for their small gathering. charles told me that it wasn't always he let teens walk freely after curfew, but when it's the day before Christmas, who is he to say no to them?

i leaned my head against logan's shoulder, my stomach feeling content and full after consuming one too many cookies and chocolates. he placed a hand on my leg and asked if i wanted to go upstairs to rest, and i nodded in reply. so, we excused ourselves. teens were scattered around the hallways as the both of us walked towards my bags.

we reached the top of the staircase, and logan led me into his room. once we reached his room, we sat on his bed, and i opened my bag. i fished out my pajamas and turned around to change. after completely changing, logan appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around me and placing soft, gentle kisses on my shoulder.

'oh, your sweet disposition

and my wide-eyed gaze

we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

and i can picture it after all these days'

the trees blurred by as logan sped down the twisting country roads, the wold a swirl of amber, gold, and russet tones. my window was down, letting the crisp autumn air rush in, my hair was in braids so that no small strands would fly in my face. logan was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping along to the rhythm of the music. i wasn't even sure if he knew where we were headed; we'd veered off course miles back, but neither of us seemed to mind.

"do you even know where we are?" i asked with a grin, my voice raised over the music.

he glanced over at me, his eyes had a sparkle i hadn't seen in so long, but had become so used to. "not a clue, but does it really matter?" he replied with a light hearted laugh.

i shook my head, it didn't. nothing mattered in that moment except the rush of the open road and the way we were singing along to the songs. his hoarse but sweet, wild but calm voice carried the melody effortlessly, even when my voice faltered.

leaves were spiralling down in slow, soothing cascades, covering the road in a blanket of color.

we didn't talk much during that drive, just let the music carry us further, winding through the countryside as if we could do this forever and never run out of road or gas. i could still picture that moment now, after all this time - the way he hummed along, the way the leaves fell like pieces of a story we didn't fully understand yet. but thinking back, it didn't matter, it used to feel right.

'and i know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more

and i might be okay but I'm not fine at all'

it had been months since i had last seen him. people assure me that time heals, that i'll be okay eventually, and maybe i will be. every day is the same; i get up, go to work, laugh when expected, smile when someone asks about my well-being. but it's the quiet moments of silence that the reality intrudes, like a wave crashing down upon me.

the happy feeling that once filled this place - has vanished, vanished for a while now. yet, there are moments, brief fragments of days, when i can still feel it - like a phantom limb. i find myself searching for you in a crowded place, then the realization dawns on me - he's not here anymore. and there's a big chance he won't be coming back to me.

'cause there we are again on that little town street

you almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me

wind in my hair, i was there

i remember it all too well'

it was a late afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a tender, golden light. the small town we'd stumbled upon felt like a picture-perfect scene from a postcard - quiet streets lined with old brick buildings, trees bending overhead, their leaves tinged with the fading colors of autumn. we had been driving for hours, with no real destination in mind, again.

he was driving with one hand resting casually on the wheel. his gaze would flick between the road and me. every time his eyes met mine, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and i couldn't help but smile back, even though i tried act like i didn't notice. the windows were down, allowing the wind to dance through his hair.

the car slowed as we came up to a small intersection, the kind that didn't seem to need stoplights because the whole town was quiet - almost no cars to be seen. a red light was hanging above the street. it was as if his foot hesitated on the brake as his gaze lingered on me for just a second too long. i stretched out my arm towards his face, and redirected his gaze. the way he looked at me, almost took my breath away. the way he looked at me like there was no one else in the world, made me wonder what went wrong.

"you almost ran it, logan," i scolded him, half-laughing, as the car jolted to a stop just in time.

he chuckled lightheartedly in response, his voice carrying a sound that i cherished so much. "my bad, bub." his eyes twinkled in the red light.

i rolled my eyes, my heartbeat quickened, and i couldn't help the warmth that spread through me. the traffic signal changed to green, and he drove through the intersection. the town went by in slow motion, passing an old diner, a corner bookstore, and a nearby park where a few kids were running through the puddles and leaves, their laughter echoing slightly down the streets.

'photo album on the counter

your cheeks were turning red

you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

and your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

you told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me'

a photo album was lying between us, logan was seated next to me in my classroom. i was trying to ignore how my past was so different from his, i had a better childhood than most of people here. logan's memories were scattered, and most of them too painful to keep.

logan let out a breath, "i don't have much to show from my past." his voice was low, there was a certain tension in the room, but not a negative one. "i don't have any pictures, or any family stories."

unconsciously, i started leaning in, he never liked to talk about his past. he kept it buried most of the time, but it felt different this time. his gaze flicked to the photo album for a moment, then back to me.

"i wasn't born as logan," he started, his jaw was clenching as he closed his mouth. "my real name was james, back in the 1800s," he explained. i tried not to gasp, my boyfriend was almost 200 years old. "i grew up in canada, in a rich family. my father wasn't really my father, though," his voice dropped a bit. "i was just a kid when it happened. my actual father showed up, and it got violent, i killed him," he looked at me. "i didn't mean to, but after all that happened, i didn't know what to do. i was so lost."

"i've fought wars, and then i ended up in an experiment from the government. they took away what little i had left, wiped my memories, turned me into a weapon. i was barely human." he clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. "i spent years to figure it out, but never got anywhere close."

logan looked up, his eyes meeting with mine. "i didn't think i had a future, not until you. i don't know if i can ever escape what i was,' logan whispered hoarsely. "but when i think of the future, it's not as dark as it used to be, not when you're in it."

i swallowed hard, the weight of what he was saying pressed down on me. he wasn't talking about the past anymore - he was offering a piece of himself, a fragile piece.

'and i know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do

and i forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to'

the mansion was buzzing with students talking and wandering around. i stood outside jean's classroom, watching through the gap of the door as he spoke with her. jean. the way he softened his voice when he talked to her, the way he stood just a little bit closer, like he was pulled towards her without even realizing it.

he used to look at me like that.

but it felt as if he was miles away, even though i was only a few steps from him. by now i should've gotten used to it, the way he kept slipping through my fingers, always just out of reach. but everytime it hit harder, that feeling of being so close and yet so far.

i knew that when i was with him, it was something real. we had something real. the late night talkes, our laughter echoing the hallways of the mansion. the way he used to look at me, with that glimmer in his eyes that made me believe we were something bigger. but then he got to know everyone better, and so she came along. jean, with her fiery red hair and pretty face, and suddenly, i wasn't enough for him.

'cause there we are again in the middle of the night

we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

down the stairs, i was there

i remember it all too well, yeah'

it was quite late - well past midnight - the mansion was quiet. the only light came from the soft, yellow glow of the refrigerator door we'd left open, casting shadows that extended across the kitchen floor and island. i couldn't remember what had brought us down there in the first place. perhaps it was his restless energy, or maybe it was mine. we found ourselves standing in the refrigerator light, laughing over some long-forgotten jest, our bare feet resting against the cool tiles.

he was leaning against the counter, arm crossed, a crooked smile on his face, gracing his features. it was a rare thing, that smile - so much gentler than the stern and hardened expression he typically wore in public.

out of the blue, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, catching me off guard. i smiled softly, stumbling slightly into his chest as he started to spin me around. "what are you doing?" i asked, words bubbling out with a grin i couldn't keep off my face.

"dancin'," he smirked, his voice low and gravelly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

we swayed in the soft light, the gentle hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the room. our feet were moving in perfect sync with each other, our footsteps barely audible against the smooth surface of the kitchen floor. the world outside didn't matter in moments like these, it was just us, lost in something that felt so small yet so infinite at the same time.

'and maybe we got lost in translation

maybe i asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well'

the moonlight streamed through the large windows in the hallway, casting long, eerie shadows that danced menacingly across the floor. the tension between logan and i had been building up for weeks, months even.

after what felt like an eternity, he finally walked in. his face was hard, guarded, a familiar look he always wore when he didn't want to deal with something. i could feel anger rising in my chest, yet underneath it all, there was another feeling, raw and painful.

"what's going on between you and jean?" my voice sharper than i meant it to be. he stopped in his tracks, eyebrows knitting together. "what're you talkin' about?" he said, his tone flat, evasive.

i sighed and pinched my nose, "you know what i'm talking about logan." he shook his head, denying everything i was saying.

"i see the way you look at her. like she's the only person in the room, the world even."

his fists clenched at his side, but he stayed silent. that only made it worse, made the hurt cut deeper. i could feel the tears threatening to fall down any minute, but i swallowed them down, refusing to show how much it hurt.

"maybe it was stupid to think we could ever be something more, that we might've had a chance. but, logan, whatever we had - it was real, good," my voice wavered. "you ruined it."

logan's eyes flicked to the floor, his jaw tight. "i didn't mean for it to happen like this, it's just you and me, remember?" he muttered, his voice was low, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "jean...she.. it's complicated, i didn't-"

"didn't what?" i interrupted, stepping closer towards him. "didn't mean to get lost in her? didn't mean to make me feel like i was never enough? ignoring me, the moment she stepped in the room?" i scoffed.

"i was there for you. i was there when you told me everything, when you let me in, and now you're throwing it all away for someone who doesn't even see you the way i do. she's with scott, logan!"

his eyes finally met mine, and for a split second, i though i saw something - a hint of regret, of the man i knew. but then his walls came back up, and he stepped away, creating a distance once again.

"i didn't tear it apart!" he growled, frustration simmering beneath his words. "it's not that simple."

"but it is," i whispered, my voice barely audible now. "it is simple, logan. you just don't want to see it."

once again, we stood there, inches apart but worlds away from each other. silence becoming suffocating, with all the thing that were said and unsaid, all the pieces of us that had shattered somewhere along the way. i wanted to reach out, but i couldn't, he was already gone.

'and you call me up again just to break me like a promise

so casually cruel in the name of being honest

i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'cause i remember it all, all, all

too well'

it was cold and raining when i heard the phone ring - of course it was. the kind of rain that soaked through your clothes and settled deep into your skin. i sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the phone that hung on my wall, ringing. my stomach twisted in a familiar, painful knot. i knew that answering the phone would only hurt me even more, but i became so addicted to his voice, i couldn't stay away.

"logan," i said, keeping my voice firm and steady.

there was a pause on logan's end, i could hear his breath, heavy and uneven. my heart pounded in my chest, a small flicker of hope sparking against my better judgement.

“I wanted to talk,” logan said, his voice rough, strained. “About everything.” i let out a breath i was holding, letting his words sink in and physically melt from the sound of his voice.

my spine straightened, and that flicker of hope i'd been foolish enough to feel quickly died. a rustling sound came through from the other end. scott's voice came through the line, clear and hard.

"you need to stay away from jean," scott said without preamble, his tony cold. i shook my head, i did not need to hear this. this just made me question the fact that logan was still spending time with jean even more.

"she's not yours to run to whenever you feel like messing with someone's head, you've done enough damage."

i sighed, gripping the telephone tighter. i could hear logan protesting, but scott barely gave him a chance to talk. "and while you're at it, stay away from her too." scott's words hit like a slap to logan's face. "wh-"

"you know exactly who i'm talking about. you keep calling her, stringing her along whenever you can't figure out what you want, and i'm done watching from the sidelines. you don't get to hurt her anymore. so if you know what's good for you, you'll leave her alone," scott's voice was scarily calm.

i swallowed hard, i felt like i shouldn't be listening to this. scott's voice dropped lower, "and if you ever cared about her - about either of them - you won't call her again. don't show up. don't send a message. just let her be, logan." there was a long pause, and for a moment, i thought he'd hung up. "because if you keep calling her just to break her all over again, i'll make sure you never get the chance to do it again." i was surprised scott would talk for me like that. i never was really close with him.

"give me the phone, logan," and the line went dead.

i stood there, phone in my hand, i wanted to scream, cry, throw something, maybe even throw up. but i didn't, i just hung up the phone again and walked away.

'time won't fly, it's like i'm paralyzed by it,

i'd like to be my old self again.

but I'm still trying to find it.

after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own.

now you mail back my things and i walk home alone,

but you keep my old scarf from that very first week.

'cause it reminds you of innocence,

and it smells like me.

you can't get rid of it,

'cause you remember it all too well, yeah'

it was a week that seemed to stretch on forever, time moving as slow as it could. i stood in my small home, staring at the box storm brought me that came from logan. it sat on the kitchen table. i already knew the contents of the box, my things, probably stuff i gave logan as well that he wouldn't want to keep anymore.

i opened the box, a couple of shirts, an old book i'd left in his room, little reminders of the nights we'd spend together. at the bottom of the box i found the scarf i'd wore when i first came to the mansion.

i held it up close, the soft fabric taking me back to that one autumn two years ago. back when it felt like we had all the time in the world.

but time made it so hard to forget. i'd tried so hard to go back to the person i used to be, before i met him - to the person who didn't get so wrapped up in boys.

'cause there we are again when i loved you so,

back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'

i remember it was a lazy summer afternoon when the air was thick with warmth and the world felt content. we were lying on the grass near the lake behind the mansion, the sun casted a golden light.

logan has his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky, while i laid next to him, tracing invisible shapes in the clouds with my mind. i turned my head towards him.

"so, what do you want to do this summer?" i said with a small smile, my fingers playing with the blanket we put down on the grass. "what would you do if we could just... take off for a bit?"

logan tilted his head towards me, "summer?" he chuckled softly. "i don't really think that far ahead."

i nudged him with my elbow, "come on, logan. dream a little, where would you go?"

he sighed, glancing at the sky. "somewhere quiet," he said after a moment. "someplace where there's nothing but trees and mountains. no noise, no people."

i nodded in agreement. "i could get behind that idea, we could find a cabin somewhere, spend our days walking around or sitting by a fire at night."

"yeah," he mumbled. "maybe get off the grid for a while, forget about everything. i watched him, feeling the what the words settled between us like a promise.

“mhm,” you agreed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “maybe get off the grid for a while. forget about everything.”

"i've never done that before," he said. "let myself think about things like that."

i looked over at him, "what do you mean?"

"something good," he replied, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "something that doesn't end in loss or running."

"you don't have to run anymore, logan," i said softly. "we could make those plans real. it would be just you and me."

he didn't respond right away, but i could see how his jaw clenched slightly. "it's just you and me," logan nodded.

i laid back down, my head resting against the grass. i closed my eyes, the warmth of the setting sun on my face.

'wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all.

down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'

[lavendermunson]

red velvet - steve harrington

day 8 of leia's christmas tree farm

cw +18. a very drunk softie steve. steve's dad deserves his own warning. FLUFF FLUFF. some allusions to sex?. steve is head over heels. no use of y/n or body descriptions.

This always happens. Steve is too nervous to meet his dad at his annual Christmas celebration at someone else's big mansion. This isn't the first time you tag along, you have been doing this for a while not wanting to leave Steve alone with the people who torment him the most.

"I think that's enough" You take the cup of wine from his hand, his hair is starting to look disheveled and his pupils are already dilated. "You need to drive me home!" 

"I'm sorry, you know this is how I cope with my anxiety!" he slurs his words, shaking his head as his vision gets blurry.

Every time he was with his dad, he needed to be drunk enough to let his hurtful words fly away from him. Mr. Harrington had a special gift, where all of his words cut deep into Steve's heart, tormenting his mind for a long time, not just the moment he was talking. 

"We should go, everyone else is leaving. You can sober up in the car, let's go" you say, your arms traveling to his back to push him off the stool he was sitting on. He wraps his arm around your waist, pressing a peck on your cheek and making an effort to stand by himself to get going.

You help him walk to the car, waving to his parents goodbye and pretending he was still sober. He wasn't. 

Both of you sit in the back of his BMW, he parked as far away as possible to have some peace of mind when he arrived. Good thing he did, it's been a while since he has been sitting beside you. Eyes closed, shaky breath and his arms around you.

His wandering hands caress your waist, his fingers work to unzip your dress and his large palm finds your back, cold and soft hands in contact with your skin giving you goosebumps.

"You always make me feel so safe, baby" his head lifts from your shoulder, Steve's beautiful brown eyes lock with yours and you can see the happiness that shines in them. You mirror his emotions, rubbing his thigh.

"I'm always here for you, you know that baby" you whisper.

He looks at you, still rubbing your back with his gentle hands. He admires your features, the way your eyelashes make your eyes look bigger. The way the tip of your nose always looks so kissable, your lips always in a perfect shade of red. Your signature red lipstick that he buys for you anytime you need it.

He feels the warmth of your skin in contact with his hands, the way you melt against his touch as if it's the first time he is doing it. His mind wanders back to that night he made love to you for the first time, taking care of you and wanting you to feel good. 

But right now he feels at peace, his head is dizzy and the taste of wine is still present on his tongue. The bubbly feeling on his chest, he isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or you. The only thing he knows, it’s that he is too drunk to start playing with you, as you once said you are his little toy.

This time, in his car under the moonlight, the bright lamp of the street and the windows fogged, the only thing he can focus on is how much he loves you. On how much his heart beats for you, every pump of blood is dedicated to you because he is here for you.

To take care of you, to listen to you, to take you home and make breakfast when you stay at his house. Steve's heart is entirely yours, he gave it to you without a single doubt. Because in a world full of people who enjoy stabbing him in the back, you are here to remind him the only thing that matters is how much he has grown into the beautiful and sweet boy he is now.

"You make me so happy, princess. You have no idea"

You smile at him, his puppy face and glassy eyes make you pout. You hold his face in your hands, his eyes close involuntarily as he feels your lips pressing over his face. You leave pecks all around his cheeks, trying to kiss every one of his freckles and moles. You kiss the tip of his nose and laugh as he scrunches his nose feeling the tingles. You kiss his forehead like you always do before falling asleep. 

When you try to leave a peck on his lips he throws his head back and sticks his tongue out like a little kid. You giggle, admiring the marks of lipstick on his face, the tattoo of your red lips decorating his pretty face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't move, Stevie!"

You look for your bag, taking the polaroid camera out and holding it in front of him.

"Smile!"

Steve smiles, and when the camera clicks the picture slowly reveals itself. You show it to him and he laughs, loving how the marks are all over his face. 

"I think I'm going to get this tattooed, Eddie does tattoos right?"

"Baby, you can't get tattoos on your face!"

"But look how cute I am! All marked up by my princess" 

When you can't seem to stop giggling, Steve leans in, pressing his lips against yours to kiss you. His kiss is soft, like the silky duvet you sleep in. He takes his time to feel your lips against him, you let out a moan when his body presses against you. 

With your hands wrapped against his biceps, squeezing his arms with your fingers. One of his hands travels from your back to your cheek to hold you in place while his tongue makes its way past your lips to brush yours, he groans over the kiss feeling the vibration in your mouth.

You enjoy how his tongue presses against yours, you moan again savoring his taste. Wine, cigarettes, and a hint of his favorite cake red velvet. The one you always bake for him on his birthday.

Both of you break away from the kiss, lips red thanks to your lipstick and glossy from the mixing of the saliva. Hair messy and disheveled, your heavy chests and pounding hearts are the cherry on top.

"What's the name of your lipstick?" he asks, thumb caressing your cheek as you lean your face to the side. 

"Red velvet. Why?"

"Same as the cake you made for my birthday!" he smiles.

"Yes, I'll make that cake for you for the rest of my life" you bump his nose lightly with the tip of your finger earning a giggle from him.

"And I'll buy that lipstick for you for the rest of my life"

Now that he is sober, he can take you home. When you ask him to stay, he will say yes to wake you up with kisses and make you breakfast. For the rest of your lives too.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, remember you can still request a gift!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Holiday Spirit

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: You don't have travel plans for the holidays

Running away to play football in a foreign country wasn't one of your smartest moves but it was certainly one of your best.

You just wished that it didn't mean fielding questions of what you were doing for Christmas.

"When do you need to get back?" Lucy asked you one morning as you changed. She was leaning against your locker, typing away at her phone.

"Where? Home? I've got homework to do later. I think Mapi told Alexia that she would come over to supervise me. I can't go out with you."

"No, I mean for Christmas. When do you need to be back in England? Me and Keira are looking at flights. We're happy to take you back with us. Give you over to your parents when we land."

You laughed awkwardly. "Thanks but I don't need to fly back with you guys."

Lucy gave you a weird look before she nodding. "Your parents are flying out to spend Christmas here. That's nice."

You didn't have the heart to tell her that you hadn't spoken to your parents since they gave you permission to go to Barcelona and then promptly kicked you out. So, you just didn't answer her.

You were sure that it had been swept under the rug after that but Lucy must have brought it up in conversation because, as you pushed your lunch around your plate, Paredes slumped into the seat next to you.

You gave her an odd look. Irene didn't tend to sit on this side of the room. She usually kept to the older girls while you usually ended up squished between Ona and Salma - though both of them had been kept behind for media.

"Er...hi?"

She narrowed her eyes at you, like she was trying to work something out.

"Hello? If this is a test to get me to work on my Spanish, it's not going to work. I can sit in complete silence."

"When are your parents flying out?" She asked.

Your stomach plummeted and you placed down your fork. "Who told you my parents were flying out?"

"Lucy said that you didn't need to fly out with her and Keira."

"I didn't tell her that my parents were flying out," You insisted," Just that I didn't need to fly with her and Keira."

Technically, you weren't lying. That was what you told Lucy. You were already at rock bottom. You just had to get the pickaxe out and keep digging.

"Hmm," Paredes said, staring at you for a long while," You're an unaccompanied minor. Someone would have to drop you off at the airport. If you want one of us to take you there that's fine but Lucy and Keira would be the safer bet."

You just laughed awkwardly, not entirely sure how to bring up that you definitely weren't going home and your parents definitely weren't coming to you either.

"Ha, I guess so."

Paredes looked at you for a moment longer. "I want your travel plans by the end of the week. If you don't want to travel with Lucy and Keira, that's fine, but we need to know who's getting you to the airport."

Safe to say, you never did get back to Paredes about your non-existent travel plans. You hunkered down in the little apartment the club paid for and wrapped a blanket tightly around your shoulders.

Usually, the building was full of your international teammates but with Christmas in a week, everyone had already gone home - except for you.

You were content though, with all your lights off, dressed in fuzzy pyjamas as you cradled a cup of hot chocolate. A movie had been put on for background noise but you were busy skimming through tiktok on your phone so you weren't really watching it.

A knock sounded at you door.

You ignored it. You never opened the door when someone randomly knocked. Everybody knew to text you first.

Case and point: The banging got louder and louder and, honestly, you just hoped that the drunkard outside your door would realise they had the wrong apartment soon.

Your phone screen lit up with an incoming call.

You frowned.

"Hello?"

A sharp suck of breath came from Patri. "You're alive." She raised her voice. "She's alive! Where are you?"

"At home? Why?"

"Which home?" She asked urgently.

"What do you mean which home? To my knowledge, I only have one."

"Spain or England?"

"Spain. Patri, seriously, you're freaking me out here."

"Open your door."

"What?"

"Open your door right now!"

You didn't really want to, not with the drunk guy outside of it but something in Patri's voice made you obey her.

You swung open the door.

A body slammed into you, an arm around your shoulders and a hand cradling the back of your head.

"You're okay," Alexia said, sounding slightly choked up," You're okay."

You peered over her shoulder, seeing a group of your teammates behind her.

Patri.

Pina.

Paredes.

You could just about see Aitana and Marta making their way down the corridor too.

"Why...wouldn't I be okay?" You asked.

Alexia didn't release you, holding you close so it was Paredes that answered.

"Because we asked Keira if you had gotten back to your parents safely but she said that you never flew with her. So, we asked Mapi and Ingrid if they dropped you off but they said you hadn't even mentioned needing to go to the airport."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared, peering into your dark apartment.

"And I don't see your parents anywhere."

You glared back at her. "I never said anything about meeting my parents."

Patri and Pina winced and you knew that it was the wrong thing to say when you felt Alexia tense. She pulled back and looked at you.

"What do you mean you never talked about meeting your parents?" She asked sharply.

"Why would I meet with my parents?"

"It's Christmas!"

"Technically, it's a week before Christmas."

"Don't sass me!"

You shrunk a little under the weight of Alexia's glare and you wondered briefly if you could shove everyone out of your apartment and swing the door shut in your face.

But, given the way that Alexia was holding you, and the way that Marta and Paredes were guarding your door, you gathered that that wasn't a good idea.

Aitana, Patri and Pina (the little rats) had all made themselves comfortable in your house, flicking on the lights and helping themselves to your slightly lukewarm mug of hot chocolate - leaving you completely at the mercy of the older players.

The combined weight of Marta, Paredes and Alexia's stares had you awkwardly chuckling.

"Sooo...It's kind of late. I should probably head to bed, huh? We should talk tomorrow. Good? Good."

"And let you sneak out of that conversation too?" Paredes said," Not a chance. Where are your parents?"

"England, I assume. Unless they've fallen off the face of the earth which, admittedly, would be pretty cool."

"And why are you here and they aren't?"

You shrugged. "Because?"

"That's not an excuse," Marta said warningly when it look like steam was about to come out of Paredes and Alexia's ears," The truth, now."

"Why I'm here and my parents aren't? I don't know if you've noticed but that's always the case."

Patri, Pina and Aitana snickered on the sofa, flicking through your Netflix account for something to watch.

"No more sass," Alexia said firmly," I mean it or you're going to be in some serious trouble." She sounded pretty serious too so you just sighed.

"I...I'm not going back to England for Christmas."

"Obviously," You heard Patri mutter but you ignored her.

"And your parents?" Alexia probed.

"They're staying in England for Christmas."

Silence reigned through your little apartment although you knew that everyone had already suspected what you had said. It was just different when it was finally said out loud.

"Why isn't your Mama coming to see you?" Paredes asked, a mother herself so you gathered something like this hit close to home.

You shrugged. "We don't talk. I don't talk to either of my parents. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal!"

Alexia looked like she was about to burst into tears on your behalf which was something that you didn't quite understand but just kind of rolled with.

Aitana gently guided you over to the sofa like she thought you were about to break at a moment's notice, squishing you between her and Pina while Alexia, Paredes and Marta took refuge a bit further away on your armchairs.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Marta asked when it looked like Alexia had finally gotten a hold of herself.

"What's there to tell?" You said dismissively, swatting at Pina until she surrendered your hot chocolate back to you. It was practically cold now but you had made it using milk instead of water and you would be damned if you let it go to waste.

"Maybe about why you're avoiding seeing your parents?"

To your credit, your voice was more steady than you felt. "We don't talk anymore. They said it was either football or them." You gestured to your apartment, to the teammates scattered around your living room. "I chose football."

"And your parents were okay with that?" Marta asked.

"Well, clearly not, seeing as we're all sitting here, having this conversation." You scoffed in amusement. "In fact, I think my dad even said that if I ever showed my face again while playing football that he would swing at me."

It sounded harsh in the ears of your teammates but to you it wasn't. Your father always threatened bodily harm even against the most mundane of things like a driver cutting him off in traffic.

Alexia, in particular, looked stricken at your confession. You kind of understood. You knew that her father had been her biggest supporter and that each and every time she stepped on the pitch she wanted to do well in his memory.

You...not so much.

Anytime you stepped onto the pitch, it was a like a big middle finger to your parents (although you knew that they wouldn't even be bothered to watch any of your matches).

"That's not funny," Paredes said firmly," You father shouldn't have said that to you."

You just shrugged again, rolling your eyes. "Is this meeting of the Spanish Inquisition over? I've got a show to watch."

There was silence for a moment before Aitana spoke, sounding completely heartbroken.

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"Yeah? Sorry, did I not make that clear?"

"Don't be silly," Alexia said though, talking over you completely as she typed on her phone," Of course she's not spending Christmas alone."

You glanced over at Patri and Pina, just in case they were privy to something that you weren't but they both just look as confused as you.

"Er...No, I am. I just said that."

"And I just said that you're not."

You cocked your head to the side. "I-I don't think that's how it works. You can't just speak stuff in existence."

"I'm not. You're spending Christmas with me."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"You didn't need to." She held up her phone. "Mami already agreed. She's asking if you're allergic to anything?"

"Um, no...Wait, hey! You can't just kidnap me! I'm fine being on my own."

"You're sixteen," Marta said," Go back with Alexia. You can have a proper Spanish Christmas. Her mum makes good food."

"I don't need a proper Spanish Christmas and I don't need good food. Everything I need, is right here."

"Oh, yeah?" Patri teased," Powder hot chocolate and microwaveable meals. You're eating like a queen, really taking care of yourself."

You stuck your tongue out at her before looking back at Alexia. "Honestly, I'm fine here. Your mum doesn't need to make me food or anything."

"Funny," Alexia said though her tone made it seem anything but," I don't remember this being a discussion. Besides, I already told Mami. She'll be very upset with me if I don't bring you along."

You huffed, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this now. "You didn't have to do that. I was perfectly fine by myself."

"You're sixteen," Alexia replied," You shouldn't have be 'perfectly fine' by yourself. Aitana, help her pack her bags. Patri, Pina...I know you were planning to do it anyway but raid the fridge. Make sure nothing will go off while she's away."

"Wait, we're going now?!"

"Si, now. You said it earlier. It is late. You should go to bed. The sooner you're packed, the sooner we can go."

"Can't you just get me tomorrow?"

"No." She waved a dismissive hand as Aitana dragged you away. "Off you go. And remember to pack a scarf!"

[starry-hughes]

holiday disaster (luke hughes)

day 22 of star’s ficmas

luke hughes x reader

Jack walked onto the plane first, getting his ticket scanned and walking through. Before Luke could even have his ticket scanned he was stopped. The two brothers had arrived late to the airport and were last to board the flight. “I’m so sorry sir but this flight was overbooked and there are no more seats.”

“Jacky?” Luke called. The two were supposed to be traveling home for Christmas. “Is there another flight he can take? We are going home for Christmas.”

The attendant searched for a second and Luke was panicking. “There’s a midnight flight, last flight out.” It was noon. “Lukey, you can take my seat and I can wait.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll call mom and tell her.”

Luke made himself comfortable in a corner of the airport as Jack left on the flight. He had to break the news to his mom and call her. “I won’t be making dinner mom, I’m sorry, I’ll be home for Christmas Eve morning.”

You had been staring at the screen when the flight came up as canceled. You almost burst into tears when the flight attendant told you the only flight out was a midnight flight. You were convinced you might miss Christmas. All you wanted was to go spend the holiday with your family and now you were being delayed. Neither Luke and you wanted to leave the airport, the long security lines made you just want to stay, and Luke thought the same.

“Are you using the outlet?” you asked him. Luke looked up. “No, you can use it.” Luke watched as you hurriedly took out your phone charger. “Hi mom,” you called, “I’m sorry I’ll be late, yeah… eleven pm. I hope that flight isn’t canceled.”

Luke’s ears perked up as you said that. He listened to you end the phone call. The two of you sat in silence, doing your own things before Luke cleared his throat. “Can you watch my bag? I don’t really want to take it in the bathroom with me.”

You nodded and smiled as he got up. No one bothered you while he was gone. There were so many people in the airport but it was like the two of you had your own corner of life. When Luke returned, he had two bags of food in his hands. “Thought you deserved some food.”

Luke handed you a bag from one of the fast food places along with a water bottle. “I heard your flight was canceled,” Luke said. “Yeah, flying out to my parents and the one time I want to visit, it’s canceled,” you sighed, “thank you for the food by the way. Let me pay you back.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. My flight got overbooked. And my brother is currently on the way to our parents without me.” You frowned, “I’m sorry.”

The two of you ate quietly, hoping the hours would go by faster. “I have a laptop, do you want to watch a movie?” you questioned Luke. Shoulder to shoulder, the two of you watched a movie. Luke dozed off on your shoulder. As the day went on, there were less and less people in the airport. As the afternoon passed, both of you would get calls from family members asking how it was going. Luke told you about hockey and his job and his brothers. You told him about your own work and family.

“Hey,” you shook him gently awake, it was six pm. “There’s a restaurant down the terminal, do you want to go get dinner?”

In the airport restaurant, the least likely place to fall in love, you started enjoying time with Luke. You both tried random foods and shared plates. Laughing over dumb stories and joking about being stuck together. At the end of the night, Luke paid the bill and you tipped the waiter well.

You two still had time before your flights. Spending time sitting together and watching another movie or snacking on chips Luke bought. You checked your phone and realized you had to start getting to your gate. “I should get to my gate,” you frowned. “Oh,” Luke said, “I’ll walk you down.”

Luke dragged his suitcase behind him as he followed you. “You should get to your gate too Luke.”

He sighed and nodded. “Can I get your phone number?” You nodded and took his phone which he unlocked for you. You added yourself as a contact and took a picture of yourself for his contact phone. “Have a safe flight (Y/N), Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Luke.” He turned and walked back to the opposite end of the terminal to his own gate smiling.

[russellsppttemplates]

Christmas in Spain (Carlos Sainz)

First term is over so you go back home to spend Christmas with your family

Note: english is not my first language. Dad!driver always gets me fluffy (and let's pretend it's Christmas season for a bit - it was a bit tricky considering it's sunny and warm outside 😅)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"I hope you have fun holidays!", you waved to the kids as they got their backpacks and ran out the door, excited for the Christmas break.

Grades would be sent over e-mail and on the school platform and a parent-teacher meeting would happen in January, so for now all you had to do was tidy the classroom a bit so you wouldn't come back to a big mess.

"Do you need help?", one of the cleaning staff asked you as they pushed the cart along the corridor.

"No, I'm fine, thank you though! The classroom is not looking so bad - Mark thought it was funny to do the drawings I asked them to on the table, but I had him clean all of that out and I think we've finally won over that bug that was going around because the bin barely has any tissues!", you cheered like you had just won a championship.

"Just in time for them to go home and spend time with all the extended family and friends and catch some other bug, right?", the older lady joked and you laughed along.

"I tidied this the best I could so this one is hopefully quick for you to clean - thank you", you smiled as you grabbed your bags, making sure nothing important was left behind before leaving the room, "I hope your holidays are nice too, I'll see you in January!".

You got in the car and drove home, hoping to find a small chaos since Carlos said he would get everything ready for you to fly out to spend the holiday time with his family in Spain, volunteering to pick up the kids from school so he could get them ready to travel too.

"Mis amores, I'm home!", you gave them a quick shout before putting your things away in the office, having already packed them in separate bags so you could leave the backpack with the things you didn't need in the office and take only the things you needed already in the backpack you would fly with.

"Mama!", Clara was the first to greet you at the door, letting you pull her up so you could hug her, "I'm all dressed for the flight!", she smiled, twirling around in the tracksuit. Since the flight would arrive late, it would be best to have the kids dressed in comfortable clothes given that they would probably fall asleep and in the event that they would arrive at Carlos' parents already asleep, it wouldn't be too bad if they slept in them.

"I can see that, is papa getting the boys ready?", you kissed her cheek and walked up with her to the boys' bedroom.

Mateo was sitting in the play area, his fingers holding finger puppets while Carlos put Benjamín's sweater on, making you sit down with him.

"Why don't we show mama just how handsome you two look?", your husband said as he allowed him to go to the floor and join his brother in the cuddle you had him on.

"Mama! We're matching!", Benjamín said, leaving a splotchy kiss on your cheek and showing you the sweatshirt and sweatpants set all three kids had. When you spotted the Christmas themed Disney sets, you had to get them. While the boys had the dark blue version, Clara had the pine green one.

"You look really cute, guys! Are they comfy?", you wondered.

"Yes, feels nice, it's not itchy", Mateo offered and his siblings nodded before you pulled yourself up to your feet, Carlos helping you and landing you on his chest.

"Hello, beautiful", he greeted, kissing your lips after what felt like an eternity as he watched you and your kids. He would happily stare at the four of you forever, but a kiss was needed.

"Hey, amor", you spoke, "seems like you did just fine getting these three monkeys ready to go", you smiled.

"Don't be fooled by it - the boys were not happy they had to have a bath since they weren't going to bed yet, so there were some negotiations and some tantrums", Carlos chuckled.

"Mama, did you know we're flying tonight?", Clara asked, big brown eyes looking up at you as she pulled on your pants' leg.

"Yes, I did! We're going to see abuela and abuelo for Christmas!", you agreed, "which means I also have to go and put something comfortable on, pack what's left and then we can head out!", you clapped your hands.

Changing into an appropriate outfit, you put the last minute things in your luggage before heading down, Carlos already buckling the kids in their car seats while you fit the test of the carry-ons on the car boot.

Driving to the airport was a nice challenge since you wanted to keep the kids awake until you boarded the plane to make things easier and not change their sleep routine too much, meaning that you blasted every Bluey album you had, singing along loudly with the three children.

"Why can't I push the trolley?", Mateo asked as Carlos pushed the trolley with all the bags.

"Because it's to heavy for you, buddy - papa will do it and you hold my hands", you assured, stretching them out once your backpack was secured on, "Clara, stay close to papa, okay?", you warned.

It certainly wasn't the first time you were travelling all together - even though you didn't travel to races as much as you did when it was just you, the kids would often be in most of the European races and a few other ones outside of the continent too -, but your stress levels were still the usual.

"Relax, amor, I packed everything we needed, and if by chance something is missing, either my parents or my sisters will have it or we can go to the store and get it", Carlos tranquilized as you sat in the lounge, the kids happily eating some dry cereal from the bowl.

"I know, I think the school stress is still here somehow even though I've left everything ready and done with - I only have those reports to finish on monday", you sighed as your husband rubbed your shoulders.

"You don't have to worry, okay?", he assured, pulling you to rest on his chest until you got the flight call to board.

The flight itself was fine, the kids staying awake without making too much of a mess and entertaining themselves with their sticker books. As soon as you got to the car, though, everyone was out like a light before you left the airport parking zone.

"Welcome back!", Reyes was the first to greet you as Carlos' stopped the car

Putting his finger in front of lips so they wouldn't be too loud, Carlos spoke softly, "they fell asleep right away, if one of you could help us with them, please", he said as his father took Clara in his arms while you and your husband took each of the boys.

"I'll bring your luggage inside, dears", your moment in-law assured as you walked upstairs to the bedroom where the kids would sleep in.

Tucking the kids with some coos and shushes, you were able to come back to the kitchen and be met with some snacky bits Reyes prepared, "have something to eat and drink, I'm sure it will do you good", she smiled as you sat around the table, catching up for a bit before you retired to your respective bedrooms for the night.

.

"This year I decided I wanted to bake our own roscón", Reyes announced as she got the ingredients out of the cupboard, not missing the wide-eyed looks and scoff from her children and her husband, "why is it no one has faith in me to pull it off?", she reasoned.

"Mama - it's just, you've never done it", Ana reasoned as her siblings nodded.

"For you to be able to say you can do something, you have to do something you've never done before", the matriarch offered.

"I believe you can do it, abuela", Clara added, "mama always says that when we want to do something, we have to put our minds to it and work as much as we can for it!".

"See? At least someone thinks I can do it - you can be my sous-chef, cariño", she smiled at her granddaughter, "do you boys want to join us?".

"Abuelo said he has a new toy car that we can play with him and papa outside", Benjamín hugged her legs and Mateo followed and replied with "I know you'll do well, abuela".

"Off you go then - means I also get your mama all to myself because not only does she have a magic finger for baking - and I do need all the help I can get - and I won't have all of you stealing her from me", she giggled, tapping their noses and letting them go outside.

Reyes loved all her children the same, and her daughters were no exception to her love. When she found out her only son was enamoured by someone, she wanted to meet the young woman who had taken her boy's heart. Since then, you always felt included in their family activities and like you were her third daughter.

"How has school been?", she asked as you followed the recipe on the propped up iPad, measuring the ingredients and setting them apart.

"My little ones are finally able to do some independent work, they're confident enough to do it and that gives me more time to prepare different things to do with them - I've been really enjoying teaching this class", you smiled, helping Clara with the eggs to make sure no shells fell in the bowl.

"That's nice to hear - you know, Carlos used to worry a lot about you running yourself too much and overworking, especially now with three kids, so I can't hide the fact that I'm happy that it's becoming easier on you", Reyes stated.

"There are hard days - they will always be even if I work all day or no time at all -, but we've got a routine down with them, Carlos is spending as much time home as he can and so far, there hasn't so been much to worry about", you offered.

After kneading everyhting and waiting for the three hours the recipe recalled, you began decorating it.

"Abuela, does this one look good next to this one?", Clara wondered as she displayed the candied fruits on the dough.

"Yes, amor, it looks very delicious - we can only hope it will taste delicious as well!", Reyes kissed her cheek and mixed the sugar with water before sprinkling the mixture.

.

"Are we ready to start writing our letters?", Carlos Sr clapped his hands before joining the kids at the table, Mateo already holding the glue.

"Yes, we're ready, abuelo! Can you help me with my spelling, please?", Clara asked.

The boys were too young to write, so they chose to draw instead and your daughter still required some help.

"Tres Reyes Magos, my name is Clara Sainz, and this year I have been a good girl. I always did as I was told and I did really well in school too - Do you think that's good, abuelo?", your daughter wondered, wanting to know her grandfather's opinion on the start of her letter.

"That's good, cariño - now, you have to write to them what you'd like to get for a present", your father in-law praised, turning his attention back to the boys' letters, "have you two decided what you're going to ask for?".

"Yes! I want this game here", Mateo said as he showed his drawing.

"I really hope they'll bring me this book", Benjamín showed his best attempt of the cover his grandfather had seen you wrap the night before, smiling at the prospect.

"Let's hope they'll bring you those, then", the oldest Sainz in the room said.

"Are we going to watch the Cabalgata tomorrow?", Mateo asked, "I saw some photos from last year but I don't remember much from them", he admitted.

"Yes, if all goes well - we usually go every year, I don't see why we can't go and watch it again", Carlos Sr smiled.

[allywthsr]

TRAVELING HOME | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando travel home for Christmas

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: read this please, I don’t know when the rest is coming out, I’m writing as fast as I can 🫶🏼

advent calendar

”Lando, do you have everything?“

You two were standing in your hallway with the luggage and backpacks, ready to fly home. Or at least to Lando’s home. This year was the Norris‘ turn of hosting the Christmas dinner and morning, your family would join you tomorrow.

”I think so.“

”You think or you know?“

”Uhm, I think that I know.“

”I‘m gonna check again.“

You shook your head with a smile, you were anxious. Anxious that you would forget something, you didn’t care about clothes because you could borrow some from Lando, but if you would forget a present, that would be fatal. You couldn’t exactly just pop over and get it, so you check at least five times if you packed them, before closing the suitcase. For one last time, you went into the guest room to check it for remaining presents, the bed was empty, under the bed too, just like the closet and the floor. The guest room was where you kept every present and wrapped them too, Lando didn’t help you at all with the wrapping, but you knew he wasn’t good at it.

The first two Christmas you got presents that were self-wrapped, and boy did they look funny, the wrapping was all over the place and it was more wonky than straight, and let’s not start with the amount of tape he used to secure the paper. Now he gets it wrapped immediately in the store he buys it from, or lets his mum wrap it. You always told him you didn’t care what it looked like wrapped, as long it came from the heart, but he was fed up with Oliver making fun of his (non-existent) skills.

After double-checking the guest room, and the office, because you had to make sure no one placed anything there, you went back to Lando to the hallway and grabbed your suitcase after pulling on your winter jacket.

”Do you really have anything? Toothbrush?“

”Put it in my bag this morning.“

”Underwear?“

”I brought enough, I hope you didn’t bring any, makes it more thrilling.“

”Gross! Beanies?“

”More than enough. Calm down, will you? We’re flying to my parents, they have stuff from me still in my room, and even you‘ve left clothes there.“

You let out a shaky breath.

Lando opened his arms and you fell into them, holding him close to you. You wanted everything to be perfect, you loved Christmas and it should run smoothly.

”But we really have to leave now.“

You nodded and let go of him, opening the door and walking through it, Lando locked the door and you stepped into the elevator. Outside of your building, a taxi was waiting for you, you two got in and it drove you to the Nice airport.

Lando had a cap on his head and a hoodie, trying to disguise, so he wouldn’t get recognized by people. Normally he always took his time with taking pictures and talking, but you’re already late, and he wanted you to be safe, mobs of people didn’t care about you, and more than once it happened, that you were pushed and shoved until you were crying.

You gave up your bags and made your way to the security check-in, the line wasn’t long, so you didn’t have to wait as long as you thought. The duty-free section was something you always admired, you always bought a little snack for the plane ride, sometimes it was some gummy bears or a chocolate bar, but Lando always had a bite, or multiple, not that you would tell Jon about it. But now, it didn’t matter, Lando was free for the next few months and could devour a whole Kinder bar pack and no one would care, he still needed to work out a few times a week, but it was less stressful.

You still had about thirty minutes until boarding would start, so you sat down in a quiet corner and talked about the most random things, your head was lying on his shoulder and his hand was gripping your thigh, stroking it gently every now and then. You loved cuddling with Lando, it was your favorite thing to do with him, even in public.

When the flight was announced, Lando and you slowly made your way to the counter, you avoided the big crowds, just in case someone recognized Lando or you. Scanning the pass quickly, you two walked through the long tunnel with your backpacks in your bags, where important stuff was packed. The plane was packed, so Lando pulled his cap further in his face and hoodie higher, so he could hide his face more. Luckily you didn’t have to walk for long through the plane, Lando booked business class tickets. You tried to tell him, you two didn’t need this, but what Lando wanted, he got. That was his Ariana Grande ’I want it, I got it‘ moment.

He insisted you two flew in business class, because, one, you didn’t need to walk through the whole plane and the chance of getting recognized was smaller, and two, you had more legroom, which he loved. But you let him buy it, because it was his money, and he could spend it on whatever he wanted.

When the plane was in the air, and you were settled in comfortably, you couldn't wait to get home, even if it was Lando’s home, it was still home. The smell of Christmas always smelt different when the whole family was there, especially because Cisca went big on Christmas. Tons of cookies were waiting for you, hot chocolates and teas as well, and let’s not forget the beautiful Christmas dinner and breakfast she always did. And that your family also came, made things even better. Normally you would’ve hosted Christmas, but the flat was way too small for everyone to fit in, and Monaco was expensive, the hotel costs would’ve been unnecessary.

”I can’t wait to be home, see everyone.“

You hummed and thought about the last Christmas you spent there, it was the second Christmas you two were together and you decided you wanted to spend it together. The Norris‘s hosted it and it was like you always joined them, everyone had a small gift for you, they all welcomed you beautifully in the family, not that they hadn’t before, but now it felt official, and the whole mood was perfect.

When you arrived, you quickly got off the plane, to avoid the other people and waited for the luggage at the strap, of course, yours came almost at the end, you couldn’t wait to get out of the airport. London Heathrow was busy, very busy. While walking next to the big crowds and lines, you could hear mumbling ’Is that Lando Norris?‘ but you only pulled more on his hand and you two were almost sprinting through the halls, wanting to reach the exit where Oliver was kindly waiting to pick you up.

You greeted him with a hug, Lando did the same and you quickly got in his car and you were driving home for Christmas.

[hansensgirl]

🪽— 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱

summary. | Steve Rogers is a good man. You’re a good woman. Emotional affairs are harder than they seem.

pairings. | Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, fem!reader x OMC (brief), Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa

warnings. | ANGST, light smut, allusions to sex, cheating, emotional affairs, pregnancy (not the reader), crying, bad family, sadness, age gap, power dynamics (boss x employee), Christmas, heavy petting, kissing, broken vase (accidentally), sadness, drinking, smoking, nightmares, mild argument, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2.5k

author's note. | hi! i'm sort of back. i'm very sorry for my hiatus. here's a new fic! this is based on the lyrics from Phoebe Bridgers' Savior Complex, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. let me know what you think! taglist: @hansensfics. i might delete this one, but please don’t save it or upload it anywhere. thanks! MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

He’s your boss. You work directly under him.

He isn’t bossy. Really, it’s an issue. Every time he gives you a task, he says ‘sorry’ first and finishes the order with another apology. You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, but you’ve got the same problem as well. It’s always atonement for something you haven’t even done. You wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it hurt him.

Mr. Rogers is very nice. He has a secret office that he lets you stay in whenever you want. There’s a couch from one country and a desk from another. Each item is foreign in this room.

You’re always so tired, but he tells you to avoid caffeine. He gives you a blanket and tells you to lie down. You listen at first but can never relax. Not when you know he’ll be alone.

The honesty was a mistake at first. Mr. Rogers is so sensitive that he feels what you feel. He knows you so well that if something’s wrong, he’ll bother you until confession. You tell him almost anything, biting your tongue when you know you get too close to baring your entire soul.

The male friend of yours who keeps asking you out. The exams you study for to no avail. Your parents’ absence. Mr. Rogers—Steve, he insists—is a good listener and very wise. It makes sense. He’s much older than you and was on his own adventures when you were born.

The adventures are where he met his wife. Her name is Margaret, and she’s everything you aren’t. She’s headstrong and beautiful beyond words. She’s good with numbers and brilliant. She knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get them.

Peggy is a real keeper. The wedding rings on their fingers prove this well.

Nothing more than a few kisses and caresses have intertwined you and Steve. Nothing physical, at least.

You’re quiet around him. Never say anything more than a sentence. You shy away when your eyes met, especially if he says something sweet.

Words take up the space as you grow closer. Steve is particularly good with words, whereas you often stutter and blend words together.

And sometimes, there is complete silence. It’s contentful. He replies to emails, and you sort through the pile of mess in the corner.

You tell him your dreams, and he tells you the ones he’s already fulfilled. What he studied in school, his family, his friends, his favourite country he’s been to. Nothing about Peggy—neither of you can bear it.

Unless she’s done something that’s hurt his feelings—like when she swears she doesn’t talk to Daniel Sousa anymore, but he hears them calling late at night.

Sometimes, Steve talks for so long that it gets dark, and your shift is over. He pays you extra—or, at least, tries to. You never take the money because nothing was lost. You enjoy the little time you have with him.

He takes you home, wanting you to avoid walking down the street in the pitch-black evening.

His car is a mess—the same as his office. He apologizes sincerely and pushes everything in the front seat to the back. The directions consist of “take a left” and “keep going straight.” You assume he’ll forget it. You don’t know how much this means to him.

Steve stays parked outside your building when you rush to your room. You live on the bottom floor and are right by the entrance. You’re a movie’s heroine when you throw yourself on your bed and giggle, butterflies filling your stomach.

He is something. The scriptwriter has Steve’s dialogue under his name but with “CHARACTER: TBA” in parentheses. No one knows if the film will be completed. No one knows how it will end.

Mr. Rogers stays parked outside, forehead resting against his steering wheel, and he’s trying to get a hold of his nerves.

Eventually, he grabs his pack of cigarettes that he always hides from Peggy. She often reminds him of his mother—without the sagacity. She tells Steve what he should or shouldn’t do a lot. He hasn’t lived since he breathed you in.

He smokes with the windows up, tears flowing down his face because he knows this can’t happen. He cannot betray his wife, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Steve comes to you on a starry night. You can see the moon and something else twinkling through the trees, and he rings your doorbell.

When you open the door, he’s a large man cowering like a small child. He wants to cry—you can tell. His mouth is in a frown that won’t disappear, and his eyes are glassy.

He’s drunk when he practically falls on top of you. He is slurring apologies that you know are unnecessary. His breath smells of whiskey, and he’s very heavy. You’ve fantasized about him on top of you during restless sleeps, but not quite like this.

Somehow, you crawl out from underneath the older, married man. You know it would be fruitless to lift Steve up, so you drag him to your bedroom.

You keep the door to the bathroom open and bring a bucket as well. The water on your bedside table is his now, and so is the charger and landline. Anything he wants of yours, he can have. He doesn’t even have to ask.

It’s hard to sleep when the one you desire so profoundly is in your bed, sadder than he should be. He drifts off with ease, but he’s violent in his tossing and turning. He shines with sweat and tears, soaking your sheets with his scent. You’re not sure if you’ll wash them. It’s a nightmare you can’t rouse him from, one that you don’t dare to ask him about the next morning.

Steve must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s small, too small for his big being. Or maybe it’s his hangover—perhaps even hunger. You offer to make whatever, but he grumbles.

He’s not sure why he’s taking his disappointment out on you. He wasn’t trying to test you, but you should’ve turned him away. You should’ve told him to go back home to his wife with her expected child inside her womb, but you don’t know this terrible secret. If you did, it would tear you apart from the inside out. This, he knows, for sure.

Mr. Rogers doesn’t say much to you in the morning, drinking two cups of coffee and staring out the window. You sit across him, and he looks past your face—the very visage he can never seem to tear his eyes away from.

“You shouldn’t have let me stay,” he finally says.

“Why not?” you ask, “you came here yourself. I could never turn you away.”

“You need to. You need to go out and, I don’t know, spend time with boys your age. Boys who don’t have wives or girlfriends they won’t leave you for.”

You flinch as if he’s raised one of his gentle hands.

Steve sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I think the lines between us have blurred. We’re not doing the right thing here, honey.”

You can’t look up, can’t face him. You wish this wasn’t the topic. You wish he had told you about his dream instead, and you would have told him yours. The one where he leaves you, the one where he gets his happy ever after with Peggy, and you get nothing.

He gives you a kiss on the head and bids you goodbye. You’re happy you have a day off tomorrow.

It’s almost Christmas, about two weeks since the conversation. Steve tries to make things seem normal. Normal in the sense that he hasn’t made his employee fall hopelessly in love with him. Then, normal in the sense that Peggy doesn’t exist, and he can still keep you in his arms until a customer comes in.

You go on dates with your guy friend like Mr. Rogers has insisted, but they’re unfulfilling. He often prefers to stay home and rent a movie, followed by sloppy kisses and dry humping that is unsatisfactory for only you.

“You don’t have to go out with only him,” Steve reminds you one day. You’re in his lap and he’s just finished reading through his entire diary with you. Most pages are about the employee he’s infatuated with, few are about his wife.

“I know. I just don’t want anyone else but you,” you tell him.

Moments later, his mouth is on your neck and his hand is up your skirt. You’re just about to come when a delivery man walks in, calling your boss’ name.

The shop is closed for a week, and your father has invited you to visit him and his new family. Your step-sisters are older and runway-ready. They have wonderful jobs and husbands that aren’t seeing women younger than them.

It’s like a closed practice. An event you can only watch from afar. You have no place here, even if your stepmother cleaned the guest room for you. You book a new plane ticket so you can go home early. You don’t make an excuse because they don’t even ask why; they just bid you goodbye.

You land at a horrible hour. There are too many taxis that families need—families trying to have a nice, hurt-free holiday.

And so you call Steve, and he answers on the first ring.

“Hello?” he greets, and you can sense some kind of anxiety in his voice.

“Um, hi. Happy holidays,” you tell him, nervous beyond belief as well.

His voice is smooth like honey, crooning in your frost-bitten ear.

“Happy holidays, baby,” he says. Peggy isn’t nearby.

“Uh, I’m at the airport. I was with my dad’s family, but I left. I don’t know how to get home. All the taxis are taken up.”

“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, “thank you so much, Steve.”

“Anything for my girl.”

When he arrives, he finds a place to quickly park. He takes your sole suitcase out of your hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

It’s sudden.

Mr. Rogers—your boss, a married man—is kissing you like you’re his only lover. Like he’s your boyfriend, and he’s missed you dearly.

You lean in for more, and he pulls away. Smiling, he opens the car door for you.

He takes the long way home, the ones with few cars driving alongside.

“I didn’t know you left,” he eventually says.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was a last-minute thing.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I went to your place to say ‘hi,’ but no one was home.”

“I should’ve told you. I really am sorry,” you profess.

Steve places a finger on your mouth, shushing you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, and you push your face further into his palm.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you whisper, looking at him intently.

“I’m glad you called me. I missed you. I would do anything for you.”

You say nothing to that. You turn the radio on and the last song is one you recommended to him. You both hum the lyrics until it ends, and he turns it off.

“I always enjoy it when you drive me,” you confess after a while.

“Oh yeah? Why?” he smiles.

“You’re careful. You don’t go too fast or slow. You know what you’re doing. You’re such a pro at it,” you explain, slightly self-conscious of your reasoning.

“That all?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows.

“Hm… No… I love your hands.” You giggle.

“Yeah? I know you do, baby. Always starin’ at them. I bet you think of them touching you all the time,” he rasps, briefly letting go of the wheel to rub at his beard.

You squeeze your thighs, mind already turning with scenarios where Steve touches you like a starved man.

His hand on your face moves back to your mouth, thumb swiping your bottom lip before pushing in. You suck on the digit, giving it the treatment you would to his cock. When you reach out to touch him, the car suddenly halts.

He stops on the side of the road, eyes watering. Regret etches his features, and you know what’s to come.

“We can’t,” Steve says, pulling his finger out. “Not yet, at least.”

“I know” is all you have to give.

Peggy visits the store in early March. Underneath her shirt is a small baby bump.

When you see it, your heart stops.

Steve brushes past you to lead her away, examining your face for hurt. You’re behind the shelves and watch the couple, your mouth parted with your eyes threatening to leak. You turn and head towards the back, choosing to hide somewhere so you can fall apart in solitude.

Mr. Rogers watches as you leave. He wishes you would look back and give him something, anything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you this way. But he did, and he will try to make it right.

Peggy leaves eventually, and Steve closes the store early. He searches for you, listening for a sniffle or movement.

You sit on the floor, a broken vase next to you. He quickly nudges the debris away so you don’t get hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking down at you. You look up, eyes bloodshot, and you stare at him with something he can’t place. He envelopes you in a hug, and you can feel his erratic heart clamouring against your face.

“Come with me to the office, please,” Steve begs.

You shake your head.

“You ask too much of me, Steve. You have a wife and an innocent child on the way. We can’t keep doing this.”

“No, no. Please, just come. Please, honey,” he pleads once more. “At least hit me, yell at me, tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Why would I? I’m happy for you. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted.” Your voice cracks, and you force a smile. Steve sees through it all.

“No. I want you—I love you. But I don’t have you, do I? Listen, I’ll leave her. I’ll still be a good father, even though I know that’s not my kid at all. We’ll go elsewhere. Move into a nice home and do whatever we want,” he rambles.

Strong Mr. Rogers breaks apart in front of you. You take him into your arms, and you both cry together.

You’re the one that leads him to his office. You sit on the couch with him and notice that his wedding band is gone. He always wears it when Peggy comes by, but he didn’t this time.

“That night you took me in—I dreamt of you. I dreamt you weren’t mine, and you didn’t love me anymore. I messed something up and didn’t fix it. It was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had,” Steve admits.

You don’t say anything. As much as the whole ordeal hurts you, as terrible as what you’ve done to a woman and her child, you can’t let Steve go. Neither can he. It’ll have to end someday, just not now. Not yet.

[luna-andra]

StepDad!König Headcanons (SFW & Wholesome) ✨

Image @cozyhuii (@miss_bozo on Twitter)

Headcanons I thought up of König being a step daddy to reader's kid

A/N: Y'all got my very first König headcanon list to 600+ notes earlier today and I had to pump this one out. I had been in a writing rut for a while (still kind of am? But I'm finding my way back) and this is my way of showing my gratitude. StepDad!König originally was something I did for me (König being step daddy to my kid? YES PLEASE) but I made this gender neutral (& gn kid) like the other ones 🖤

Domesticated!König Series: Part 1 Part 2

I write other stuff too! Masterlist here 🖤

👑 His reaction was the better outcome you had thought up when König found out you had a kid from a previous relationship. Why would that deter him from continuing to date you? He was a man that didn’t view single parents as “spoiled goods”, and would quite frankly curb stomp someone if they heard them refer to you as such.

👑 He was aware of the possibility of you postponing and rescheduling dates, and unfortunately they did happen. “Sitter canceled? No problem.” “Mom/Dad bailed on their weekend? I get it.” You were so relieved by his patience and empathy for the times plans would fall through.

👑 It was clear to König that you were going to hold off on introducing him to your child. He had great respect for that rule, it meant you were very keen on not having a revolving door of people coming in and out of that kid’s life.

👑 As time went on, he would always show an active interest in your child by asking how they are doing in school? Did they still like [insert movie/TV show here]? He hoped they liked the treats he had bought at the PX on base.

👑 But the one time you seemed extremely defeated and bummed out about another postponed date, he took his chance and threw out the idea of hanging out - the three of you - at your house. You hesitated, but it had been nearly long enough for you to be okay with it. The guilt weighed on you considering it had been a hot minute since the two of you had any time for each other. König was such a sweetheart, reassuring you that this is how he wanted to spend his time, with you and your kiddo.

👑 Almost every date after that became an outing with the three of you. He was referred to as Onkel König by your child, a title that warmed his gigantic heart.

👑 Came to every sports game/martial arts competition/band or orchestra event/etc. Became as active as the bio mom/dad (if they were still around) in their extra-curricular activities. He didn’t want to miss a single thing.

👑 Speaking of bio mom/dad/ex-spouse, he made the conscious effort to be acquainted with them if they were still present in Kiddo’s life. As long as they were cordial, so was König.

👑 Spoiled the hell out of Kiddo for Christmas and birthdays. They wanted for nothing and sometimes you hated it but were also thankful that he has come to love a child that originally wasn’t his.

👑 We all know König is of older age given his rank of Colonel. It’s so funny when he has to ask you about lingo the younger kids use. “What is bussies and why do they want to go there so much?” That was fun explaining it to König as his face grew intensely pink at his ignorance. It’s best if he comes to you every time he hears something new fly out of that kid’s mouth.

👑 He always used German terms of endearment for the both of you, and Kiddo picked up German the more time they spent with König. It forced you to learn too (you were already learning but you were putting in extra hours after bedtime to stay ahead of them).

👑 100% a prankster. And oh god… did it get out of hand quickly. You had to sit both of them down to scold them about putting soy sauce in your coffee when you weren’t looking; that was the final straw. No one messes with the morning coffee. 

👑 Came home with a puppy from the animal shelter because Kiddo got an A on their test (failed to mention to König that it was a test they had already got rewarded for).

👑 The only time you ever saw this man cry was at Kiddo’s graduation. They said to their friends “Can you take a picture of me with my Dad? He showed up in uniform for this.” He held it together for the event, but let the tear loose on the way home.

Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others. Might do some for Ghost in the future ✨

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Harry/Draco Fluff Masterlist | fics with less than 5k words

long story short: my masterlist page is broken because I’ve maxed out the length of it because I have recc’d too many fics. So I’m taking a page out of @wizardingworldlibrary ‘s book and making masterlist posts which you can find and be directed to on the updated masterlist page. They will contain every fic ever recc'd on this blog, but will be searchable based on ship, genre, length, among other things.

last updated: 09/17/24 | links last checked: 09/17/24

A Fluffy Little Olive Branch by JulietsEmoPhase [T, 4k]

Harry comes into work one day to find a box with a baby owl inside sitting on his desk, and a note from a mystery well-wisher.

*Code-Cracking For Gryffindors by Saras_Girl [T, 4k]

Harry should know better than to conceal mysterious body art from dorm-mates who pay no heed to what happened to the cat.

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If asked, Harry Potter would categorize his high school senior year as normal: football, friends, and one devastating crush on his tutor, Draco Malfoy. When presented with an opportunity to help Draco, Harry rises to the occasion. Unfortunately, so does his dick. Sparks fly and alarms blare… and the Hogwarts Owlz Gossip twitter feed blows up. Or: the one where an inconvenient erection brings them together.

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Harry is baking christmas cookies and Draco really can't take this anymore.

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“For the love of—really Draco? Artificial leather?” The horror in his father’s tone was amusing. “You have money, use it. And what’s with the color scheme? Is that—oh Merlin it is—floral print? This is worse than I thought. You need to move back home. Clearly allowing you to venture out on your own was a mistake.” “I’m an adult,” Draco yelled, still laying on the ground, not bothering to care enough to move. He had chosen his furniture knowing it would haunt his parents. Petty spite did wonders for the soul Revenge, friendship, and a surprising romance kindle after Draco experiences a recent breakup. He just wants to discover who he is, and maybe the knowledge was there all along.

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“Calm down? Calm down?! Pansy, you recall that I have a dark mark don’t you? The final is half of our grade! I’m going to fail.” “You’re not going to fail,” she informed him calmly. “You’ll learn Draco, you have over three weeks.” “But I’m an ex-death eater,” he whispered, as though anyone could ever forget. “Death eaters can’t cast a patronus, you know that.” “That’s not true,” a voice behind them piped up, making Draco jump. “For Circe’s sake, Potter, stop sneaking around,” he grumbled. The other boy shrugged, “Sorry,” he said unrepentantly, “Couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying.” Draco rolled his eyes, “Oh, you just couldn’t help it, huh?” He flicked a careless grin at Draco, his dimple showing, and as always, Draco didn’t know quite what to do with that. “I’m just saying that death eaters could cast a patronus.” “How would you know?” Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Snape could cast one, and Merlin knows that you did far less horrific shite than he did,” Potter replied as he sauntered past them and into the common room. “I could help you, if you want,” he called over his shoulder before walking out of view.

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Kingsley has decided all his Aurors need muggle mobile phones. Draco has finally learned how to use his, and gets a hold of Harry's number.

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“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend until valentine's day is over. I detected at least three hexed objects in my mail and five attempts to poison me with love potion this week and I'm sick of it.” “To be—your boyfriend?” Malfoy's voice stuttered and Harry braced himself for the punch he was expecting. But it never came. Instead— “Fine. I'll do it.” Harry couldn't believe his ears. “Just like that?” “Yes Potter, just like that."

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Harry and Draco are in a secret relationship. When they are both invited to Ron and Hermione's house for dinner, will they give the game away?

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Remus turned to face his husband. “Your godson is engaged to a Malfoy. He’s used to the finer things in life and I, for one, would like to make sure this dinner is not only pleasant, but that he knows we are not peasants.” Sirius barked a laugh. “So the truth is, you want to show off for the little bugger!”

you've got something on your neck by liliette [M, 4k]

when will harry not have something on his neck?

*denotes personal favorites

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 8 (Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dp, skinny dipping, FLUFF, they love each other. They get to hang out with the readers best friend so she's protective <3

ANGST, not much (I know, weird! Lol), Boys hang out with reader and her bestie so she does quiz them a lot. Eddie talks about missing Wayne and gives reader more insight into his parents, Steve does that same.

Word Count: 4862

Series here/ Donate to Me <3

“Look, I’ve been her best friend since middle school so I’m not going to be as easy to suck up to as her parents.”, Mya announced making you smile beside her as you four continued to eat. 

“Pfft, that was easy?”, Steve asked playfully as he stuck a fry into his mouth. 

It had been a few days since the guys had shown up and in a couple more you would have to get ready to fly back home to get prepared for the new semester. The new year flew by with little to no fanfare and both men doubled down on your post by taking pictures with you and posting them on their socials. 

Their lawyers weren’t exactly thrilled stating they thought both men should lay low but they didn’t care. They wanted the whole world to know how much they loved you as a person and not because of what their ex was saying. Beside that one post you made, you still stayed away from your phone for fear of what you may read. You weren’t ready to handle any of that at a constant basis nor did you have any idea how you would handle it when you went to work but you decided you’d cross that bridge when you got there. 

Since he was the most recognizable, Eddie had his hair up and behind a cap as he ate but a few tendrils fell around his face almost dipping into the sauce of his plate before you reached over and moved it behind his ear. 

“Thank you, babe.”, he garbled with a full mouth making his friend roll his eyes as you giggled. 

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Mya and I were thinking we could go to the little carnival down the way here. It’s an annual thing that we used to go to all the time growing up.”, you beam as your best friend leans on your shoulder. 

“That sounds like fun.”, the mogul smiles as he digs into his wallet and places his credit card next to the bill that the waiter hastily comes to pick up. 

“I can pay for my meals, Steven.”

“I know, Mya. Think of it as a Christmas gift since I wasn’t able to bring you anything.” Quirking his eyebrow towards her, she smirks in amusement before giving in and nodding her head. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Munson.”, a little voice shyly asks as a small boy appears at the rockstar’s side. “May I have your sign?”, he continues, holding up his hand in a waving motion to signal he wants an autograph. 

“Yeah, buddy, uh…”, Eddie’s eyes scan around the table, thanking you when you reach into your bag to grab a pen. “What’s your name?”

“Wayne.”

Eddie blinks and you see his smile falter for a moment before it widens again as he signs the paper the little boy handed him. 

“You know, that’s my uncle’s name. He taught me to play guitar when I was a bit older than you. Can you play guitar to?” The child shakes his head and the man laughs. “You have to learn, little dude. Maybe one day you’ll be on stage with me when I’m old and gray.”

The boy laughs as he thanks him and runs off towards his parents who silently thank him with a wave. 

“That was cute…Did you hire him?”

“Yup. You caught me, Mya. That’s actually my illegitimate son and those people posing as his parents are from my entourage.”, he replies with snark without missing a beat. 

Your best friend glances your way as you beam up at her with a “told you so” grin on your face that makes her own smile widen.

“Point one goes to you gentlemen. Let’s go have some fun.”

***

You giggle as Eddie tries to “root” for his friend as Steve and Mya go head-to-head shooting basketballs into the basket in front of them. 

“Come on, man. You were MVP in high school. She’s kicking your ass.”

“You’re not helping, asshole.”, the mogul breathily laughs.

The buzzer beeps loudly and his head falls as your best friend claps, raising her hands high in the air in victory. 

“I’m ashamed of you.”, the rockstar sighs jokingly before laughing when Steve pushes his arm. 

After extending his palm as an olive branch, Mya shakes it with big smile on her face. 

“I feel like together we could be stronger, My. What say we kick their ass in bumper cars?”

“Sounds like a plan, Steven.”

Throughout the evening, your best friend had not only been listening to the guys but watching how they treated you, taking in every little thing they did. When you went to lunch not only did they pull out your chair but hers. While walking up to the carnival area, they made sure to be on the side nearer the street for you both and always ran ahead to open any door that needed to be opened. Their physical mannerisms seemed to display a radiance of protective energy. When they weren’t attentively listening to the stories you both were telling, their eyes were scanning the area to make sure everything was alright. 

Even now, she watched as Eddie held your hand to help you into the bumper and then once you were seated he helped buckle you in before making you laugh as he pretended to speed off as the car remained still. 

“Munson is going to be ruthless I hope you know.”, Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside Mya.

“I can buckle my own seatbelt, Steven.”

“I would hope so.”, he grins after clicking the strap and leaning back as he waits for the ride to start. 

“So can she.”

The mogul’s face straightened as he turned to meet her eyes that were scanning his features. He understood what she meant and you had explained the other night that Mya knew what you were into in your private life. You trusted her with something so personal and he appreciated that. That’s how he felt about Eddie as a friend when it came to things they did. He wouldn’t have entered a shared relationship with him if he didn’t. 

“We know she can. It’s one of the reasons we love her…because she can handle herself. We love her strength and her sassy ass which after meeting you and her parents makes a lot of sense.” Steve smiles when your best friend laughs. 

“After everything happened, I looked you guys up. I tried to tell her things but she insisted she’d rather hear it from you. Obviously she knows about Gina but does she know about your dad? Does she know about the expose he did on you after giving you his company?”

“If she read that she’s never said. Y/N isn’t much of a business person and that was almost 10 years ago.”

“He doesn’t seem to have any real empathy towards you or your mother.”

“What’s your point, Mya?”, he snapped before realizing his tone and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“No, no. I get it. Trust me, I get it. That’s why I’m so protective over her. Y/N’s family has been there for me through everything and I see her as my sister. Holden took her away from us and everything she knew before breaking her heart. She looks at you two differently than she ever looked at him. She feels safe with you…so if you ever pull that bullshit again I will come after you.”, she warns as she raises her eyebrows and Steve tries to hide his smile. 

“Noted. I promise if that ever happens, which it won’t, we’ll fly down here personally for you to kill us.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for yours as he leans back and waits for the ride to start. 

“She’s definitely grilling him right now.”, the rockstar grins as he gestures with his head towards your friends. 

“Oh, 100%. I’m sorry if she comes off as rough. She’s been through a lot and has a hard exterior but her heart is soft…kind of like you.”, you grin up at him as he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you, um, are you ok after talking to that little boy? You seemed kind of sad after.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. I just miss my uncle sometimes. He’s very much like my father figure, you know, and being in Indiana…I don’t get to see him as much as I want. He, uh, he adores you.”

“Me? Edward Munson have you been talkin’ about me?”, you tease.

“Maybe.”, he grins as he kisses your forehead. “Maybe we could bring you home one weekend or even during the summer so you could meet him and some of our friends. I mean…if you want to…you don’t…have to.”

Your lips tenderly kiss his as you rest your chin on his shoulder. 

“I’d love to.”

The car underneath you suddenly comes to life gradually moving you and everyone around you forward.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s kick their ass.”

***

“Were you nice?”, you ask Mya as you walk her to her front door.

“I was nice enough.”

“So no then?”, you laugh as she smiles. 

“They do seem to care a lot about you and they are genuine which I appreciate. Holden only met with me that one time and I never heard from him again. You think I would have with how long you two were together.” 

“I’m sorry for that…for leaving you…”

“No reason to be sorry, honey. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Everything alright?”, Steve asks after you return to the car. 

“Yeah, I just really missed her.”

You giggle as Eddie crawled over the middle console making his friend playfully huff as he tumbled into the backseat to sit beside you. 

“Maybe sometime soon we can invite her up so she can hang out and see New York.”

You grin as you lean towards him to place a tender kiss on his lips. 

“Can I show you guys something?”

########################

Both men’s eyebrows furrowed when you directed them to a college nearby but even more so when you guided them to a building that was locked. 

“Ok, Eddie, baby. Can you lift me to that window please?”

“No.”, he answered sternly yet with a hint of teasing underneath. 

“Oh, come on, Daddy. I would never do anything to get you in trouble.”, you joke with a smile before Steve finally steps forward and helps lift you into the building. After a couple of minutes, they heard the lock on the other end clink open and were met with your beaming face when you opened the front door, ushing them inside. 

“This is the college I graduated from. We kind of had this club of cool kids who were able to come here and hangout. If the window is unlocked that means no one is here. I locked it after climbing through so it’ll just be us. Apparently students have been doing this for decades.”

“Where are we exactly?”, the rockstar asked as you three continued to walked down the hallway. After entering another room, the smell of chlorine hit them immediately.

They hear what sounds like a button being pressed and suddenly lights within a large pool illuminate the area. 

“Oh, wow.”

Both men watch with fascination and amusement as you remove all your clothes before diving in the water. 

“Are you coming?”

After removing their own garments as well, Steve gradually slid in whereas Eddie followed your lead and jumped in making you giggle as water splashed around you.

“We used to come in here after hours and just swim…talk about the future…maybe have a beer or two.” When you laugh, they laugh with you. “This was such a highly guarded secret and hard to make it into the club to hang out here. I always felt safe here with Mya and my other friends.”

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Their heads turn as their gaze shift towards you, understanding the implications behind those words. Again, you were trusting them with something special to you and opening your heart. They needed to do the same. 

“We didn’t have anything cool like this at my college. I mean obviously we had a pool but…I went to a swanky business school which was my dad’s alma mater and I fucking hated it.”, Steve chuckles. “Ed kept me entertained through those four years, taking me to concerts and movie premieres when he got more popular.”

“Pfft, yeah it took a while. I think our first song started finding steam right when he was about to graduate.”

“When did your dad give you the company?”, you ask.

“It took about a year or so to pry it from him and even then he, uh, he struggled. He did an exposé on me a month after…the journalist asked him if he had faith in my ability. He said and I quote ‘If I had another Harrington to give it to I would but he’ll do fine I’m sure.’”

“Jesus. What an asshole. You showed him though with how far that company has gone.” Swiveling your head towards Eddie, your eyes meet his soft ones. “You didn’t go to college right?”

“Lord, no ma’am. My uncle wanted me to but it all sounded expensive and useless.”, he laughed as he swam closer to wall where you two were floating around. “Believe or not my dad went to college and he still ended up in jail. I just wanted to play my guitar.”

“I love the way you play. Even before I met you.”, you smile his way. “What was your mom like?”

“She, uh, she was kind and loved music. She was unbelievably funny, always making jokes that made me laugh.”, he grinned back at you. “To this day I still don’t understand why she fell for my dad. Probably why I’m terrified of becoming him.”

“You don’t have it in you…neither do you, Steve. With all the stories you’ve told me, you’re nothing like them. I think that’s why you both fell for Gina…because you think you’re capable of it. You attract what you fear sometimes… And just like with her and your fathers, I will kick your ass if you continue to think so negatively about yourselves!”

They chuckle as Steve grabs you and pulls you till your legs are around his waist. You sigh pleasantly as he kisses your forehead before you rest it against his own. 

“She asked to meet with me, your ex.”

His eyes shifted into that protective mode as the mogul blinked and cupped your face in his hands. 

“Stay away from her, Y/N, ok? Unless one of us is with you.”

“I’m not afraid of her—”

“This isn’t about fear, honey. She can do a lot more that physically harm you.”

“So, you can confront my ex but I can’t with yours?”

“You were with us!”, he growled before Eddie patted his forearm, signaling for him to let you go. 

“Do you want to meet with her?”, the rockstar inquired calmly.

As you tilt back against the mogul’s grasp, you shook your head. 

“I know she won’t tell me the truth. I just thought you two should know that she reached out to me personally. I haven’t looked at my phone since that thing I posted so I don’t know if she’s tried again.”

“Ok. Ok, sweetheart. If you change your mind, just let us know. We would prefer to be with you if that’s alright. We wouldn’t need to be in the same room just within the vicinity at least.”

Oh, vicinity.”, you tease trying to lighten the mood again. “Officer Munson kind of has a ring to it.”

“Pfft. Yeah it does. The way I would utilize those handcuffs.”, he groans as he grabs your waist and maneuvers you till your back is against the wall with your arms circled around his neck. 

“Like you don’t have some already.”, you grin. “I’ve, um, never made love in a pool before.”

Eddie blinks as his head playfully ticks to the side. 

“Didn’t we fuck you in a jacuzzi?”

“Oh my god, that does not count. It’s not a pool!”

“It’s an area filled with water.”

“Oh, oh, ok Steve. I’d like to see you swim laps in a jacuzzi!” As you giggle almost uncontrollably, you pull the rockstar into your embrace and hug him tightly to you. When your laughter subsides, your fingers thread through his hair as you feel his nose graze your neck. “I love you, Eddie.”, you whisper, softly smiling when he tilts back to pet your head. 

“I love you to, sweetheart. Fuck, I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”, he exhales almost breathlessly before his lips kiss yours. As you reach between your bodies, his eyes close as his head dips back as you gradually run your palm along his cock. 

“You wanna see something?”, Steve murmurs, kissing your cheek when you nod your head. Tugging you lightly away from the wall, the mogul adjusts you so you’re floating on your back with his hand cradling the back of your neck. “I got you, honey. Daddy’s right here.”

Water lightly moves beneath you before you suddenly feel your legs resting on Eddie’s shoulders with his cheeks graze your thighs. His warm breath is an interesting contrast to the slightly cold water you three are floating in and you can’t help but moan as your pussy clenches around nothing. Steve’s mouth attaches to your neck as the rockstar’s tongue flicks against your clit making your eyes roll shut. 

“F-Fuck, that feels so good.”

“I think this is the closest I’ve gotten to you riding my face, princess. That was one of the—God, you smell amazing—first things we talked about, remember?”, Eddie asked in a husky voice as his nose continued to prod at your little bundle of nerves. 

“Yes, Daddy. I remember.” The mogul’s large palm reached over to massage your breast as the tips of his fingers ran along your nipple. “Please… I want to cum.”

“And we just want to play with you, baby.”, Steve smiles as your mouth falls open and Eddie begins devouring your cunt, his hands digging into your hips to hold you against him. “Maybe when we get back home, we can utilize those restraints and just keep you in our bed all day. Can you imagine that? Just…tune out the outside world for 24hrs…and keep you with us for one day to play with.”

As he spoke, his lips trailed kisses down your skin till his tongue found the erect bud on your tit causing a loud moan to leave your mouth as he lightly pulled it with his teeth before swirling his tongue along the sensitive area.

“To play with you whenever we wanted and really get to know your body.”

“I-If…you don’t know…my body by now…I’m worried.”, you breathily laugh, feeling them both smile against your flesh. 

Eddie’s tongue rapidly licked in and out of your core as your fingers roughly clung to Steve’s hair and your back arched. 

“Oh, we know your body, honey, but we want to learn and discover more of you in ways no one else ever has. Things you didn’t even know about yourself.”

Your legs around the rockstars neck trembled as you came. 

Pushing your limbs down and around his waist, Eddie pulled you up till your arms were around his neck and floated with you back towards the edge of the pool. 

“Can I have you both?”

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Let me just…” Keeping a strong hand on your back, he swims with you to stairs nearby and sits high enough so the top of his chest is visible above water. “Your knees aren’t scrapping the asphalt of the steps or anything right?”

“No, Daddy.”, you pant as you kiss his lips and lower yourself onto his length. 

Subtly rocking your hips, you allow your body to get comfortable as you wait for the palm that places itself on your shoulder. 

“Ready, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you, Steve.”

With a soft smile, his fingers lightly grip your chin to tilt your head and deliver you a tender kiss.

“I love you to, Y/N.” His gorgeous eyes remained locked on yours as he carefully began guiding himself into your ass. “Mmph—no, no, no, baby. Keep those beautiful eyes open for Daddy.”

It was so hard to follow his command as they both slowly started thrusting into you but desperately did everything you could to follow through. You loved watching their faces every time they took care of you. In a sexual realm, their faces would scrunch differently in ways you found utterly fascinating. Steve’s perfect head of hair would fall along his forehead or frame his face as his eyes would roam your body. It was almost calculated which would make sense with the business minded man he was. He would physically take in any little movement, jiggle, or moan and store it in his memory to utilize whatever he did to please you again in the future. As he got closer to his release his jaw would tighten and his eyes would close as he fully succumbed to the feeling of you with grunts and an eagerness that drove you crazy. 

Eddie was all feeling and passion in more ways than one. His hands and lips always wanted to be on you especially when he was inside you. He wanted his senses to be absorbed in everything in the moment. He wanted to see you fall apart, hear you scream his name or title, touch your sweat tripping skin, taste your lips, and feel you shudder around him as you came undone. Sometimes he wanted those things so bad that his brain would almost shut off and he would lose all self-control as he pounded into you not caring if the bed banging against the wall was too loud or both your moans mixed together could wake people in their building. 

When they were taking care of you out in the world, it was more or less the same. Steve would take note of the surroundings to make sure you three were safe anywhere you went. His eyes would follow you when they took you shopping and made mental notes of every item you mentioned or even touched as you absently grazed it with your fingers. You figured out pretty quickly that he learned all your tells for when you were hiding things especially to make them feel more comfortable. 

 “You don’t like this, do you?”, Steve asked while you three were watching tv one Saturday. 

“No! I like this show a lot.”, you defended making him smile at your incessance. 

“Uh huh. You’re doing that thing you do with your hair when you’re zoning out.”

Narrowing your eyes his way, you can’t help but giggle as you sigh. 

“I like the show…I just don’t like the host. He comes off like a huge asshole being mean to these contestants who probably worked really hard to be here.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, baby. We can watch something else and he IS an asshole by the way.”, he jokes.

“You watch stuff you don’t like to make me happy.”, you pout. 

“Says who? Everything you’ve shown us we love.”

“Like RuPaul’s Drag Race.”, Eddie added making you laugh as he started singing the theme. 

Eddie wanted to experience everything with you and did everything he could to keep a smile painted on your lips. Whether it was something small like a joke or a grand gesture like taking you to a concert where he danced and jumped around with you by his side, he savored it. With every hug, kiss, cuddle, or a gentle pet to your head, he felt like he was in heaven and would do anything to make you happy. 

“Hey, um, I’m working on this song and I was wondering if you could tell me what you think.”

“Ok.”, you beam as you take a seat in front of him on the floor near his windows. 

As he softly strummed his fingers along the guitar and his voice filled your ears, you realized the song he was playing was about you. When his eyes met your teary ones, he chuckled as he reached out to caress your cheek. 

“It’s beautiful, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s not finished but—”

“But it’s perfect already. Thank you so much.”, you coo as you tackle him and he laughs harder, falling onto his back with you in his arms. 

Eddie’s open mouth kisses against your chest had you mewling as you leaned your cheek on top of his head and your hands clung to the bottom of his neck. Little waves around you seemed to sway you forward and back into them as the pumped their hips a bit faster against you. 

Reaching around, you pressed your palm to the back of Steve’s head, holding him to your shoulder as he warmed your skin with his grunts of pleasure. Trembling between them, you whimpered their title as you came, loosely holding on to them as they chased their highs.

“Jesus fuck—“, Eddie whined with a strain in his voice before wrapping his arms tightly around you as he filled you up. Steve followed shortly after suffocating his moans into your neck as his fingers dug into your biceps. 

No one moved and you were fine with that as you held them to you. Tender kisses and soft murmurs of love gave you a comfort you never wanted to lose again as you silently prayed they would continue to keep their promise to you that what happened before would never happen again. 

“Do they have showers? Definitely not a good idea for you to go out in the cold with cold, damp hair.”

“Aw, thank you, mom.”, you tease causing Steve to playfully bite you as you laugh. “Yeah, they’re in the side there.”

###############

Your mom smiles at you from across the table as you sip your coffee and stare past her into your memories of the day before with a little smirk on your lips. 

“I know that look.”, she murmurs getting your attention. “When your father took me out on our first date, I couldn’t stop smiling when I got home. Your grandma noticed and said ‘Yup. That’s the boy she’s gonna marry!’” You both laugh till it tapers off and she meets your eyes with a softness you know all too well. “You can’t marry them, honey. You know that right?”

You slowly nod.

“But you would if you could? Reputation be damned.”

After thinking for only a moment, you nod again. 

“Things with that bitch Gina Frost are probably about to make things harder. Add in their fans, her fans, and the world who ALWAYS has to have an opinion.”, she rolls her eyes. “Are you ready for all that.”

Biting your lip to stop the small quiver as your eyes become watery, you honestly shake your head causing your mother to nod. 

“But to you their worth it and you trust them to be there for you every step of the way.”, she responds matter of factly as if she already knows the answer. 

You firmly nod your head. 

“I already warned them that I won’t do…this…again but I trust them when they say they’ll never put me in that position again. I love them, mom.”

“Yeah… It’s disgusting isn’t it? Love.” 

“Oh, absolutely. Just fucking gross.”, you giggle as she laughs with you and grabs your hand. 

“What’s gross?”, your father asks as he comes in from smoking and takes a seat by your mother. 

“You are, dear.”

“Mhmm. I love you to.”, he beams as he leans forward to kiss her lips. “Now where are those pretty boys of yours. Breakfast is getting cold. EDWARD AND STEVEN! I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY DO IT IN YOUR MANSION IN NEW YORK BUT HERE WE EAT BREAKFAST AT 8:30AM!”

“I was trying to let them sleep in, dad.”

“Mhmm, no special treatment here. They want to be a part of the family then this is how we do things.”, he scoffed making you smile at his gruffness.

He liked them. 

Eddie appeared first with Steve gently pushing his back to guide him into the room and into a chair. The mogul leaned over and tenderly kissed your cheek before taking a seat on your other side, immediately placing his arm around the back so his fingers could casually run through your slightly messy, bed head hair. 

As you threw one of your legs over the rockstar’s, his eyes cracked open meeting your glowing ones as you tried to hide your laughter in your coffee cup. Lightly pinching your cheeks, he pulled your lips to his before leaving his palm on your knee where he would occasionally rub your skin through throughout breakfast as he slowly woke up. 

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@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

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[joekeeryswife]

ballet recital - m.m

a/n: hello honeys! how cute is this concept! loving the idea of Mason being a girl dad (sorry not sorry lol). i didn’t know how to end it lmfao. if you have any requests send them through!! anyways enjoy reading 🩰

taglist: @noturbabe22 @luvvtrent @peterparkerbae @masonreds

“are you excited for your ballet recital honey?” you heard Mason’s voice as he spoke to your 5 year old daughter Margot.

“yes daddy i am. are you still coming?” she had been excited for this recital for months and so had Mason.

this was a big deal for all of you and it just so happened that her recital landed on the day after Mason’s football game for England.

The squad had travelled to Portugal for the game and you both hadn’t even realised it at the time. “i’m sorry sweetheart, you know i’m in Portugal for a game but i promise i’ll make it next time”

she pouted and looked defeated but she understood that her dad had to work and nodded. but what she didn’t know was you and Mason had planned for him to fly home the day after early in the morning and surprise her.

“you know i would love to be there angel and i will be there next time. don’t get upset, it hurts my heart” she put on a brave face and showed him a tight lipped smile.

“i know daddy. love you” she handed the phone back to you and ran off to her room, you knew she was upset and that hurt you. “she looked heartbroken. that made me feel awful, you should go check on her” you nodded and smiled softly.

“we will be watching your game tonight. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” Mason nodded and smiled back at you “i love you” he said and brushed his hand through his hair.

“i love you too. be safe” with that you ended the phone and made your way to your daughters room. you knocked on her door carefully hoping to not frighten her.

you could hear the cutest voice on the other side say ‘come in’ so you did. she was on her bedroom floor playing with her barbie’s she’d gotten for christmas a couple months before. “are you okay sweetie?” you sat down next to her and ran your hand up and down her back.

she nodded and continued to play with her dolls. “would you like me to face-time daddy whilst you’re preforming?” she shrugged, you could tell she was upset and wanted her dad to be there.

“you’ve got so many people coming to see you remember? you’ve got not your nanny’s, grandads, uncle lewis and auntie jas and your cousins are coming” she looked up at you, her eyes filled with sadness. “it’s not the same” you nodded, agreeing.

“it’s not but daddy wouldn’t want you to be sad would he? he’d want you to be excited about this baby. he’s very proud of you” your hands went to her cheeks and stroked them softly. “do you think he’d want us to facetime him? he wouldn’t get annoyed?” you frowned.

“why would he be annoyed honey? he would love for you to facetime him” you were confused “but he has football and we would be interrupting him” even though Margot was only five she was so smart, one of the smartest in her class.

“absolutely not. your father would not be annoyed at all, i bet you he’d be crying on the phone whilst watching you” you lent in and kissed her forehead. “don’t you go worrying about it sweetheart, we can do whatever you want and if you want me to facetime him whilst you’re preforming then i will” she nodded.

“you are so beautiful Margot, do you know that?” you blushed and nodded again “i love you mama” your heart melted. “i love you more sweet girl”

-♡-

Mason had landed an hour ago and was now on his way to the dance hall, he was messaging you every so often to give you updates on where he was and how long he was going to be and it looked like he was getting there ten minutes before it was Margot’s classes turn to preform.

you met up with your parents, your siblings, Masons parents and his siblings at the front of the dance hall. Margot was dressed in her pink leotard, tutu and ballet shoes. “wow look at you pretty girl” Lewis said as Margot ran up to him.

he picked her up and showered her in kisses, careful to not mess up her bun. “thank you uncle lewis” you were lucky that both of your families were close, everyone got along. “you excited to preform honey? you’re gonna do so good” your mum kissed Margot’s cheek where a deep red blush spread on her cheeks.

“i’m super excited” she squealed “we should go in and find our seats, Margot do you want to go find your teacher?” you asked as Lewis put her down. she nodded. you knelt down in front of her and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“you’re gonna do so well, you’re beautiful, the best ballerina i’ve ever seen. no nerves, no tears because you are gonna do amazing. and, i’m going to facetime your dad as soon as the show starts okay?” she smiled and nodded. Margot got nervous easily which sometimes made her cry but you knew today she wouldn’t, she was going to do great.

you all entered the dance hall and was greeted by Margot’s teacher who pointed you in the right direction to your seats and took Margot backstage. you were all practically front row and it was shocking as there was so many people here.

you saved a seat for Mason next to you and the hall quickly filled up. it was 5 minutes before the kids got on stage that Mason finally came through the doors to the hall and was searching around for you all. he spotted you and quickly walked to you all and kissed your cheek. “hi honey” he made you jump but nevertheless you knew who it was and quickly turned towards him.

you kissed him and he sat down next to you “i missed you” he said, placing his hand on your thigh. “you were gone for one day, you couldn’t of missed me that much” you rolled your eyes but blushed slightly. “one day too long, i wanted to come home as soon as the game finished. i’m never going away without you both again” you giggled at how precious he was.

the lights in the hall dimmed and the curtains opened to a stage which was decorated beautifully. your eyes focused for your little girl who stepped out with her classmates, they all stood in a line and looked around the room for their parents.

Margot locked eyes with Mason and blushed brightly and waved at him, seeing her on the stage made Mason tear up. his first born was growing up so quickly and this made him realise it. he waved back and blew her a kiss and the music started playing.

the class started preforming their ballet routine and your heart melted. seeing Margot dancing after practicing for months was the cutest thing you’d ever seen. she looked so comfortable as she danced.

you looked over at your mum who was recording the whole thing with the biggest smile on her face. you grabbed Masons hand which was on your leg and squeezed it tightly. you looked at him and he had a few tears rolling down his cheeks which you quickly wiped away and kissed his cheek.

“she looks so cute” he whispered, his eyes never leaving his little girl. “she’s doing amazing. she practiced so hard for this, it’s nice to see the final thing” he nodded as he squeezed your hand. you’d only ever seen Mason cry a handful of times since you’d been together.

nothing to do with the societal view of men crying makes them look weak, he just wasn’t a big crier. you’d only ever seen him cry when he’d watched the notebook with you, the birth or Margot, her first birthday and a couple other times.

the dance recital wasn’t very long, 30 minutes to be exact as there was two classes. after the recital had finished everyone was instructed to wait outside so they could collect their child and you stood waiting with Mason, hand in hand.

Margot was the first one out, running straight toward Mason who accepted her with open arms. “oh my girl you did so well” he picked her up and hugged her tightly. your daughter loved surprises and you knew this one would mean a lot to her.

he kissed her head and everyone awed at the two of them. “you said you weren’t coming” Margot said as she squeezed him tighter like he was going to disappear if she let go. “you really think i’d miss it? no way”

“you did so amazing poppet, you looked so beautiful” Debbie said making her look up from Masons neck. “thank you nanny” she was blushing. “do you think we should go out and celebrate? have some food together?” Mason said making Margot nod.

all of you decided on a food place and celebrated your little girls performance. Margot and Mason had sat next to each other and he had never felt love like this before. surrounded by the people he loved celebrating his daughter.