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marvelsswansong · 1 year ago

Text

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

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two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

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three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

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four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

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five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k

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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago

Text

The Winning Pitch

Kenji Sato x Cheerleader!Reader

Synopsis: At college, Kenji Sato gets to know you during your trainings. When the university’s big game approaches, both you and Kenji strive for success in your respective teams. A heartwarming conclusion celebrates both victory and love.

Word Count: 1,975

Author’s Note: Kenji x reader requests are open! ⭑.ᐟ Send them through Ask (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

MASTERLIST

Kenji Sato: student-athlete and campus crush. He’s an aspiring baseball star who was very determined for that title. To add to that, hundreds of girls are pining for him. Which makes you wonder how lucky you were to have landed on this guy.

You guys met at university—in college. It started one sunny day at training. The sports field was wrapped in a golden glow as the sounds of athletes training and cheerleaders practicing filled the air.

Kenji, the star, was in the middle of a batting practice. He was focused, his eyes never leaving the ball as he swung with precision and power.

On the adjacent field, you were rehearsing a new cheerleading routine with your squad. The upcoming game was a big one, and everyone was working hard for it to be perfect.

You were on top of a cheer pyramid when your captain blew her whistle and then clapped her hand. “Almost there!” She said. “We just need to work on the trembling, (y/n).”

With that, the girls on the base helped you get back down on the ground. “And, bases, we need to work on how we’re gonna dismount that,” she added as she watched.

“Alright, team,” she announced once you’ve reached the ground. “Be back after 5 minutes for strength training.”

With that, the team temporarily parted. You walked past others who were doing stretches as you headed toward the drinking fountain.

On your way, your eyes drifted towards the baseball field. There, you saw the face everyone was talking about. You knew Kenji Sato. Who doesn’t? You guys haven’t talked to each other, though.

You watched as he hit another home run, the ball sailing over the fence with ease. Impressed, you found yourself smiling.

Kenji suddenly turned and caught your eye. He smiled back, a little surprised but pleased to see you watching. Suddenly, you see him walking over to where you were.

You felt a soft warmth rise to your cheeks. You quickly turned around to drink at the fountain as you were supposed to.

“Hey there,” Kenji greeted, now standing nearby. You turned the faucet off and wiped your lips before turning. “I’ve seen you around. Cheer squad, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And you’re Kenji Sato, baseball star.” You smiled up at him as you crossed your arms in front of you.

Kenji chuckled. “I wouldn’t say star, but I do my best,” he said. His eyes drifted to look behind you where you began hearing your teammates gasp and squeal.

“You guys look great out there,” he said. “Must be a lot of hard work.”

“It is,” you admitted. “You’re pretty impressive yourself. That last hit was amazing.”

“Thanks,” Kenji said, his smile widening. “Say—“ but before he could continue, you heard your captain call. You looked behind to see your team gathering together.

“Time’s up, Sato,” you looked back and smiled at him. “See you around.” With that, you turned to jog back to training.

But Kenji didn’t leave yet. He stayed to watch a little longer. He saw some of your teammates gather around you squealing and asking you about him. You just gently brushed off their questions as you bent down to do stretches.

Those small talks in between trainings and during breaks became frequent. It had become a familiar scene to both your teams to see you two by the water fountain, chatting.

There are times he’d arrive there before you; and there, he’d wait. Sometimes, he’d be on his phone. Other times, he’d watch you finish your routine from the distance.

As the day of the game was nearing, your practices became more grueling. The captain called for a break and you sighed in relief. You headed over to the fountain to rehydrate as you’ve always done so. However, as you turned it on, no water came out. You turned the handle on and off repeatedly yet nothing changed.

Frustrated, you wiped your forehead. The heat of the afternoon sun clawed on your skin and you felt your throat dry even more. Just as you were about to turn back, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Here,” Kenji said, holding out a water bottle.

Surprised but grateful, you smiled and took it. “Thanks, Kenji,” you said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Gotcha,” he said with a wink. “I was here earlier for your short break. However, it seemed like practice is more intense lately and your breaks have been reduced.”

Every day, he did this. He memorized the time of your breaks so he could come over for a chat.

You took a sip of water, feeling the cool liquid refresh you. “Yeah, they are,” you replied. “How’s practice going for you?”

“Well,” he replied, taking a sip from his bottle. “Just working on my swing and some drills.”

You nodded in response before chugging the contents of the bottle down to half. Just then, the captain called for the squad to regroup.

You placed a hand on Kenji’s bicep. “Thanks again for the water,” you smiled, looking up at him. “I’ll see you around.”

You turned to walk back to your team before you could even see the small blush that crept on his face. The same goes for him; he did not see the little grin you had on as you went away.

These small moments with Kenji were becoming the highlights of your day. Each day you grew excited for it and started looking forward to where it could lead.

The next day, you arrived at the field earlier than usual. You found yourself scanning the area to see if Kenji was there early, too.

He was, practicing his swings. He stopped when he saw you. With a grin, he jogged over, holding out another water bottle.

“Just in case the faucet’s still broken,” he said with a wink. You laughed, taking the bottle, “Thanks, Kenji.”

“So hey, uhh,” he said as he did a bit of stretches here and there. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime? Maybe grab a coffee or catch a movie?”

You immediately smiled at the invitation. “That sounds nice,” you said. “But how about this? If you win the upcoming game, I’ll go out with you.”

Kenji’s eyes lit up with determination and amusement. “Well then,” he replied. “Better start getting ready for that date then because we’re going to win.”

You grinned, enjoying the playful banter. “We’ll see about that,” you said. “Good luck, Kenji.” You knew Kenji and his team had a good chance. Your squad makes sure you guys have, too.

Counting the time left before the game, the weeks turned to days, to hours, until it was only a matter of seconds before your squad headed out into the field to perform.

The stadium lights blazed brightly. Fans cheered for their respective teams, as the anticipation built.

You stood with your team at the edge of the field, lining up into position as you all waited for the cue to start. One signal from the facilitators and you guys were up and running to the center of the field.

As the music began, you and your squad moved into formation, executing sharp, precise motions in perfect synchronization. The crowd’s cheers grew louder, a testament to the flawless execution you and your team worked tirelessly to achieve. Every jump, every tumble, every lift was met with applause.

Kenji stood with his teammates near the dugout, eyes fixed on you. He watched in awe seeing that your training paid off. He had seen you practice from his spot in the field, but it was truly magical to see you perform under the bright stadium lights.

The music shifted, signaling the climax of your performance. Your team smoothly transitioned to the pyramid. The bases positioned themselves. The middle layer climbed into place. And finally, it was your turn. With a deep breath, you ascended to the top, standing tall and confident.

At that moment, Kenji couldn’t contain his excitement. “Go, (y/n)!” He shouted, rendering his teammates amused. You guys were supposed to cheer for them, not the other way around.

Hearing him, your smile grew bigger. You extended your arms into a high V, holding the pose with perfect balance.

Kenji continued to cheer, his voice carrying over the crowd. “You’re amazing!” He yelled. “Keep it up!”

Just when everyone thought it was done, you transitioned into a heel stretch. The stadium erupted in applause, Kenji’s voice among them.

The captain called for the dismount. With flawless coordination, the pyramid began to lower. You descended gracefully, each layer in perfect harmony until your feet touched the ground.

As the routine was concluded, you and your teammates high-fived and hugged each other. The audience’s applause was deafening.

You glanced towards the dugout, meeting Kenji’s eyes. He was beaming with pride and happiness.

As your team retreated out of the field, you jogged over to him. “That was incredible, (y/n)!” He said enthusiastically. “You guys are amazing!”

Breathlessly, you smiled. “Thanks, Kenji,” you said. “We gave it our all.”

Kenji’s eyes shone with admiration. “That fired me up, (y/n),” he said. For a moment, he cleared his throat. He leaned a little close to whisper, “I hope you’re not forgetting your end of the deal.”

You chuckled at him. “I know you’ll do great, Kenji,” you said. “We’re all cheering for you guys.” You gave a wink before running back to your squad.

Soon after, the game began. As the first pitch was thrown, Kenji stepped up to the plate. He sure was going to win this game tonight.

It had been intense. The scores were close and the stakes were high. Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

Kenji stepped up to the plate, the stadium quieted in anticipation. The opposing pitcher glared, ready to deliver the next pitch. Kenji tightened his grip on the bat, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the ball.

The first pitch flew, a fastball right down the middle. Kenji swung with precision, the bat hitting it with a satisfying crack. The ball soars through the air, heading towards the outfield. The crowd cheered as Kenji sprinted towards first base.

“Go, Kenji!” you shouted from the sidelines.

Kenji’s heart pounded as he rounded first base, watching the outfielders scramble to catch the ball. He approached second base. The ball hit the ground, bouncing past the outfielders, and Kenji knew he had a chance.

“Keep going!” his teammates yelled.

Kenji didn’t hesitate. He sprinted towards third base, his eyes fixed on the coach’s signals. As he neared, the coach signaled him to go for home. He rounded third base, heading for home plate.

The outfielder finally retrieved the ball and threw it toward the infield. Kenji could see the catcher positioning himself, ready to tag him out. He pushed himself harder, sliding into home plate with all his might.

The dust settled, and the umpire’s voice rang out, “Safe!”

The stadium exploded into cheers. Kenji��s teammates rushed towards him, lifting him into the air. He had scored the winning run, securing victory for his team.

As the team celebrated, Kenji’s eyes searched the crowd, finding you among the cheerleaders. You were beaming with joy, cheers echoing through the noise.

The team set Kenji down, and he jogged over to the sidelines. Without a second thought, he pulled you into an embrace.

“You did it, Kenji!” you exclaimed, jumping in his arms. Kenji grinned, his heart still racing. “That was an incredible game! You were so good out there!”

“Thanks, (y/n),” he said, letting go of you. He looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “So, how about it?” he asked with a grin. “You, me, and a celebration dinner?”

You smiled warmly, nodding. “I’d love that,” you answered.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@lostwsoo

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot

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lustspren · 4 months ago

Text

family ties ft Chaewon.

length: 10.3k words✦

Male reader, Male Character (starring Luke Newton cause idk) X Chaewon (playing Anna).

genres: incest (GoT (not it’s not sister-brother) and HOTD (no it’s not uncle-nephew) fans this one is for you), double blowjob, threesome, hard sex, carry fuck, double penetration, spitroast, facefuck, anal, british chaewon btw. ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Going to the Egerton family gatherings wasn't exactly one of your favorite things in the world; you preferred to stay away from them, that way you avoided uncomfortable questions or sharp hints towards yourself, something you were used to in a family whose lineage was always focused on only one lifestyle. Kind of a black sheep was what you were, but you were never treated differently, luckily.

Still, it was exhausting having to feel different all the time. Out of place. You loved your family, and they loved you, but you just felt like you didn't fit in. That was why of five meetings you were invited to, you went to two at most.

But this time the situation warranted your presence, and you couldn't be so rude as to reject the invitation. It was a party for your cousin, who recently graduated from Cambridge University with a degree in medicine, enough merit for a big celebration. You just had to go. Not only because it was the morally right thing to do, but because her brother, also your cousin, had been trying to convince you all week.

So there you were, alone in your room while you finished getting ready to go out. You expected that they would force you to dress formally for the occasion, as was always the case when a big celebration was held at your cousins' house, but this time they gave you complete freedom—within certain limits, of course. Your cousin's insistence, perhaps, but you were grateful.

The start of the party was at 8 pm, and it was already 6:40. You lived in Northampton, a city about an hour west of Cambridge, if you wanted to arrive on time, you had to hurry up and leave at that precise moment. And so you did it. After making sure you were as presentable and handsome as possible, you grabbed your phone, your wallet, and your car keys to finally head to your destination.

That damn mansion never ceased to amaze you, even after having visited it countless times throughout your life. It consisted of two floors, with a subtle and perfect mix between modern and Victorian architecture, especially in the windows, which abounded in every corner, and the pair of chimneys that protruded from the mansard roofs.

You parked your car outside, in front of the short black fence that separated the sidewalk from the big lovely garden that preceded the house. Parked near you were a few cars that you recognized immediately, some from your uncles and great-uncles, and others from distant relatives who always attended these types of gatherings. There was only one that you didn't recognize, but you assumed it was some friend of your cousin, so you didn't give it any more importance.

When you got off you looked towards the right side of the house, towards the patio where the barbecues were always held and where the guests used to gather. Apparently you had arrived just in time, because you could see some of your other cousins barely greeting your uncles—the owners of the house—and their sons. So you rushed to join.

You walked down the long polished granite path that led to the main entrance of the house, only to then step onto the lawn and cross the garden. When you arrived at the patio, the first to notice your presence was your cousin, Jaime. As handsome and smiling as always.

"Ayeeeee! You made it!" he said with a wide smile, arms open as he walked down the steps of the small deck that led into the house. "I knew you'd come!"

Before you could say anything, Jaime caught you in a tight hug, almost causing you to drop the bottle of wine you had brought for the occasion. You laughed, and reciprocated his hug with a smile.

"It's not like I have a choice, right?" you joked, patting him on the back a couple of times. "It's great to see you, darling."

After hugging Jaime you now focused your gaze on Elena, his sister, and the reason why you had come from so far away. She greeted you with the same enthusiasm as Jaime, with a warm hug and words of relief for your presence. Then you went to the dining table area, where you also greeted your aunt and uncle, Jaime and Elena's parents.

For the next five minutes you stood there, greeting all your relatives and the guests who kept arriving. Everything was going normally, until out of the corner of your eye you noticed how inside, in the living room, a girl you had not seen before appeared. You turned around with your forehead wrinkled, confused. What your eyes saw was such a surprise that you stopped paying attention to Elena as she spoke.

"Huh? Is she… here?" you asked, ignoring what they told you.

Inside the house, on one side of the dining room table, was Anna Kim. A distant cousin that you could easily haven’t seen for four or five years since she was studying in Korea. You were never close to her; you only met at specific family gatherings since her father, apart from not being a direct member of the family, was an extremely busy man who did not last long at the meetings before having to leave with his daughter. Father, who, by the way, you had not seen anywhere when you arrived. Was that car hers then?

"Oh, Anna?" Jaime asked, following your gaze. Now you both watched her while she adjusted her earrings and choker. "Yeah, she arrived yesterday. She must have fallen asleep, I think."

You definitely remembered a few interactions with her, but damn, you didn't remember her being so… stupidly beautiful. She wore her long brown hair up in a high lace bun, with a few strands purposefully messy to complement her pretty bangs. Perhaps she was a little overdressed for the occasion, wearing a heart-shaped white top whose strips of sparkling sequins reflected the overhead lights and made her look like some kind of gem, and a short, slightly pompous black skirt that showed off a pair of long and sexy legs.

She looked graceful like the most beautiful and elegant of swans. It was obvious that she had turned out just like her mother, a woman from the Egerton family, and not like her father, a vulgar Korean man who lacked any kind of class. You couldn't stop looking at her for fear that she was some kind of angelic apparition that would disappear when you took your eyes off her. But you were forced to do so when she turned around and started to walk outside, straight towards you.

"Shit, keep it cool," you told Jaime, and tapped him in the stomach with the back of your hand to make him turn around.

You both turned around with your hands held behind your backs, pretending to watch the meeting. Anna stood right behind you, and in a polite gesture she cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said from behind you. "You are doing an excellent job being the bastions of beauty in the family. Behind me and Elena, of course."

The first thing you noticed was that her accent was completely different from yours. The Egertons had a mainly Cockney accent. But Anna's accent sounded like that of a duchess; a beautiful, elegant, crystalline posh accent that, combined with that sweet voice, was like music to your ears.

Jaime turned around, and consequently so did you. From that distance, somehow she only managed to dazzle you even more with the unmatched beauty of her. She looked both of you in the eyes, hands clasped at the level of her belly.

"Well, you certainly make it difficult for us," Jaime said, with a smile. "You look stunning, I must say."

Anna smiled and nodded her head in thanks.

"Thank you, darling," she then looked at you. "Wow, I haven't seen you in a while, right?"

"Indeed," you nodded with a smirk. "Not since you left... four years ago?"

"Five," she corrected you. "But it felt like forever," she subtly spread her arms out to the sides. "Reunion hug?"

"I could never refuse."

Unlike your previous hugs with Jaime and Elena, Anna's hug was more reserved and careful, but still warm enough to feel the affection in it. She had her arms wrapped around your lower back, while yours went behind her shoulders. You weren't surprised to smell the expensive perfume she was wearing. Miss Dior, surely.

"You better hurry up and greet the guests," Jaime said. "You and Elena are the only girls in the family, you must look radiant."

Anna finally pulled away from you and stood on tiptoe to place an affectionate kiss on your forehead, followed by a rub with her thumb there. She then looked at Jaime.

"Looking radiant is the best thing I do, dear," she winked at him, and walked past the two of you to go down the steps to where all the guests were. "Wait for me and we can go inside for some drinks, will you?"

"Mother will have you constantly on the go," Jaime said with a chuckle. "Good luck with her," he motioned with his chin for her to leave.

"Bloody hell," you said, watching her greet your uncles and her friends. "What did they feed that girl?"

Jaime laughed and patted you on the back.

"I have no idea mate," he admitted. "But she is certainly a beacon in the night."

"You've been with her since yesterday," you turned to look at him. "Is she still as disastrous as she was as a child?"

Jaime remained silent, lowered his gaze and tried to hide a smile that made your suspicions skyrocket. You knew your cousin well; it was just the way he acted when he had done some mischief.

"You could say that, yeah," he said, and then he turned to look at you. "But she is a lovely girl, and an excellent fashion advisor by the way."

You narrowed your eyes and held his gaze.

"Sure," you said. "She advised you personally, I suppose."

Jaime laughed and returned to his classic position, with his hands behind his back.

"Why do you think I'm so good looking today?"

"Because you're an Egerton and because that's the minimum that auntie asks of you?"

"Believe me, mother doesn't care about me today. Elena has the deserved focus," he looked at his sister, who was talking to a boy that you didn't know but that you knew must be her boyfriend. "If it weren't for Anna I would look like a commoner."

"You've never looked like a commoner, Jaime."

Jaime raised an eyebrow, and took a few seconds of silence to look at you.

"Do you suspect me in any way, little cousin?" he asked, and narrowed his eyes.

"I have strong reasons for doing so," you nodded. "But I wouldn't dare make an accusation."

Jaime held your gaze for another few seconds, and in the end you both smiled. He then gave you a couple of pats on the cheek.

"Always so clever, aren't you?" he said. "There's a reason you're a private detective. When are you moving to London? I don't think there are so many opportunities in Northampton."

"Why? Don't you like having someone around who can know immediately when you're up to something?"

"That's exactly why, yeah. Elena is enough of a pain in the ass."

You both laughed, but he prolonged his laughter longer than you, so you took advantage of the moment to stare at both him and Anna, who was still with your uncles. Something had happened between the two of them, you were sure of that, but you were going to force yourself to not care. You'll be back home later, and Anna would probably leave back to Korea tomorrow. It wasn't relevant.

You and Jaime stayed there talking for a few minutes. It was a normal conversation, like the ones you always used to have. Even your uncle, Jaime's father, joined you at one point to talk about the last Arsenal game. But the debate about football lasted until Anna was finally able to get rid of your aunt and went with you.

"Finally free from your captivity?" you joked, as she stood next to you.

Anna sighed.

"Apparently so," she said. "Shall we go inside? My throat is already asking for something cold after so many presentations."

"Are you planning to miss your cousin's celebration by going inside to drink?" your uncle asked. "We have wine out here!"

Anna gave a small smile and squeezed your uncle's forearm affectionately.

"Take it easy, old bean," she said. "I have a lot to talk to my cousins about! I promise it won't be much."

"Your aunt won't be happy if she doesn't see you here," your uncle replied, and then looked at you and Jaime. "Same with you two."

"Why does she want us here all the time?" Jaime asked. "She has Elena and her boyfriend right there, and I'm sure her friends are about to arrive."

"Yes, she has enough to worry about," you came to Jaime's aid.

Your uncle let out a tired breath and shook his head to look at Anna.

"I have my trust in you, young lady," he told her, with a finger raised between the two of them. "If you're not here for the cake you'll be in serious trouble."

"Uncle, you know I would never miss cake," Anna replied. "You have my word."

"Alright, off you go," your uncle said, and he put his hands behind his back before returning to the gathering of people.

Anna stepped forward to take the space your uncle had left, and she gestured into the house with her chin.

"May I?" she said.

"Go ahead, miss," you said, and both you and Jaime stepped aside for her to pass.

Anna passed through the entrance that was right behind you, the one that led directly into the kitchen. You followed her.

"What does your father keep here to drink?" she asked, as she walked around the island and stood in front of the enormous wooden wall, filled with tall, rectangular panels behind which the pantry was stored. "I don't want wine today."

You rested your arms crossed on the island counter, on one side of the stools. Jaime on the other hand also circled the island and stood on Anna's side. He then pulled one of the panels towards him, to reveal a shelf filled with bottles of all kinds.

"The old man doesn't even drink often," he said, picking up a bottle of Hennessy Cognac. "He collects all these things because he no longer knows what to do with so much money."

Anna scanned all the possible options carefully, her pretty face illuminated by the shelf lights. She finally grabbed a bottle of Macallan M Whiskey. You immediately looked over your shoulder to make sure your uncle wasn't watching.

"A bold choice, if I may say so," you said with a giggle, and turned again to look at her. "That thing costs like seven thousand pounds, and uncle loves whiskey."

"If he loved it so much he wouldn't have it here collecting dust, don't you think?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. She then walked over to the island and placed the bottle on the counter.

"The poor man is 76 years old, and mother makes sure that he drinks only on special occasions," Jaime said as he opened another panel, which corresponded to the refrigerator. "Do you want something for the whiskey?"

"Hmmm, I don't know..." she said, and looked at you. "What would you choose?"

"I'd choose not to drink Cedric Egerton’s whiskey, of course," you shrugged. "But, some ginger ale would be wonderful with that particular one."

You looked at Jaime, who looked at you with a smile and snapped his fingers to point at you.

"That's why you're my favorite cousin," he said, took out three bottles of ginger ale and then closed the refrigerator.

You laughed and shook your head.

"I don't think that's too difficult," you said, as Jaime grabbed ice from a freezer next to the refrigerator.

"It is," Jaime stated, and then poured ice into three small glass glasses. "We Egertons are a big family," he looked at Anna with a sly smile. "We even have a member studying in Korea."

Jaime began to fill the glasses with the drink. He poured three fingers of whiskey, and filled the rest with ginger ale.

Anna let out a giggle, classy and contained.

"That just makes it funny," she said, as she took the glass Jaime had extended to her. You did the same. "A woman from the Egerton family marrying a Korean man? Your grandfather must have been twisting in his own grave."

You and Jaime shared a loud laugh. Then you took a sip of the drink. Anna imitated you.

"I don't think your mother was one of those who cared about family opinion," Jaime said, leaning on one elbow on the opposite corner of the counter where you were. "She saw her man, tied him up and here you are. A beautiful full-fledged Egerton woman."

Anna's smile faded away.

"It's a shame my father wants me to make my life there and not here," she said, stirring the ice in her glass as she stared into space. "I'll be forced to be Anna Kim for the rest of my days. Not Anna Egerton."

"But you can change that, right?" you asked. "I mean, legally."

"Yes, I could," she looked at you with a tired expression. "But then my father would murder me."

"Do you owe that man anything?" Jaime butted in.

Anna looked at Jaime and raised an eyebrow.

"He has given me everything since my mother died," she said. "Is that a bit for you?"

"Of course not," he quickly said. "But I'm just saying that you have more of a future as an Egerton than a Kim."

"And do you think I need a last name to show my worth?"

You noticed a subtle tonal change in Anna's voice. Nothing too remarkable, but she did sound more severe. Jaime was entering swampy terrain, and as always you had to go and get his feet out of the mud.

"What Jaime means is that here in England you could have double the contacts and support from your family," you said. "No one doubts how successful you can be on your own."

Jaime nodded, and Anna relaxed her posture. Then took another sip of her drink.

"I don't know," she said, and lowered the glass to look at Jaime. "There would have to be a good reason to stay... and so far I don't have one."

She and Jaime stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence. You wrinkled your brow, looking at each of them. In short, something was happening there.

"But anyway," she continued, finally blinking with both eyebrows raised. "Why don't we go take a seat? We're here for everyone to see."

Just to your left was a large open living room, with a big sofa where you would be more than comfortable. But Jaime took you two to another place not so exposed to the eyes of everyone else: to the living room that was right behind the dining table, separated from it by a wall that in its first half had a small bonfire and in the other a counter with a dishwasher and a bucket full of ice.

Anna crossed the small space and sat on the sofa in front of the window. You and Jaime each sat on the individual sofas on your side. Now you two were separated from her by the short glass table right in the middle, which had a bowl full of fresh grapes. Anna leaned forward to pick one and put it in her mouth.

"Mmmm..." she frowned as she chewed. "These grapes are magnificent. In Korea they taste like cardboard."

Between you and Jaime there was a small pedestal-table that reached your waist. You put your glass on top, but Jaime put it on the edge of the glass table.

"They're from father's vineyard in Florence," Jaime said, also picking one up. "You should go see it someday. Beautiful lands."

"And are you going to take me there?" Anna asked.

"As long as it's your wish," Jaime smiled, picked up his glass and looked at you. "We could even bring our little cousin."

Anna's gaze also fell on you. You shrugged your shoulders, and looked away towards the bowl of grapes to grab a couple. You kept them in your palm.

"Well, I could use a visit to Tuscany. I haven't been there since my uncle forced me to go with him and Jaime to learn about a business that I don't care about," you said, then you put a grape in your mouth and accompanied it with a little of your whiskey.

Your worry blossomed again. Now they were making plans and including you in them. Maybe you would end up caring about whatever was going on there, but if your job had taught you anything, it was to be empirical and rational. You would judge later.

Anna smiled at your response, and then looked at Jaime.

"You see?" she asked. "That's a reason to stay. But not enough."

"Is Korea that bad?" you asked, before Jaime could open his stupid mouth and say something out of place. "I'd love to hear about that. I wasn't as fortunate as Jaime was to enjoy your presence since yesterday."

From the corner of your eye you noticed how Jaime changed his position on the couch, and how he looked down, once again, to drink from his whiskey. A more than clear indication to revive your suspicions. Poor fool. If he were accused of something serious, he wouldn't last five minutes in an interrogation.

Anna's smile, on the other hand, lost some of its shine. But it could simply be because of your question and not because of the real reason for your words. You noticed her less breakable than Jaime, but still, her eyes when she saw him gave her away. Funny as well as worrying.

"It's... different," she said. "Studying there feels like hell where you are constantly elbowing each other with your mates. Nobody is... civilized. There is no unity."

She raised a finger to signal that she hadn't finished and took her glass from her to take a sip. This time she kept it in her hand instead of leaving it on the small table.

"People think they own your life..." she continued. "They think they can mold you to be what they want you to be. There is no such thing as your own path; everyone else puts it there for you."

Anna looked up to see a pair of faces filled with deep dismay. She then laughed and gave a low giggle.

"My apologies, I didn't want to go too deep down the rabbit hole," she said. "It's bad, yes. Modern in many ways, but archaic in everything else. Disgusting sexists, above all."

"I read that women don't want to have children with Korean men," you mentioned. "Big protests and all."

Anna shrugged.

"I don't blame them, no one would want to have children with those prats," she said, and she gave Jaime a quick glance before looking at her glass. "Besides... they're terrible in bed."

You two laughed. Jaime more than you. He wanted to hide something else, surely. Maybe it was something as stupid as him having found it more fun than you. But his eyes were the door to the soul. You knew how to read them better than anyone.

"Small cocks I assume," you said with a mischievous smile, and then drank from your glass with your gaze fixed on Anna.

"Embarrassingly small," she clarified. "On top of that, they don't care about a woman's pleasure."

"A big difference with the Europeans, it should be noted," Jaime intervened. "Don't you think that's a good reason to stay here?"

You frowned and turned to look at Jaime. That was out of line.

Anna looked at Jaime and gave a mocking laugh.

"Not while I've proven it myself, Jaime," she replied, and she picked up another grape to eat.

You'd already had enough of those two, and you were ready to get to the bottom of it by asking the question you didn't want to ask yet.

"Guys," they turned to look at you. "May I know what's going on between you two?"

Jaime and Anna looked at each other. Their faces showed that they were not prepared for that question. But they also looked embarrassed as they realized that perhaps they had given you just enough reasons to ask that question.

"I don't know what you mean, little cousin," Jaime responded with a nervous chuckle. "Wouldn't it be extraordinary to have our lovely cousin around?"

"Indeed," you nodded, stirred the ice in your glass and took a sip. The whiskey was already less than half full. "It's just that your irrepressible enthusiasm catches my attention, cousin. There's nothing to worry about... right?"

You and Jaime maintained eye contact. You didn't blink, seeking to force him to confess voluntarily. But that would never happen with Anna in that room.

"Noah?!" A new voice was heard inside the house. Elena. Looking for you. "Noah, where the hell are you?"

Elena's voice was heard closer and closer, until she found you. Jaime, Anna and you turned to see her. She seemed elated, excited.

"Here you are!" She said, and stood behind you to take your shoulders. "There's a friend of mine I want you to meet, come on!"

You looked up at Elena and then gave a helpful look to Jaime. He absolved himself of responsibility by shrugging his shoulders and waving you away. Convenient for him, to say the least.

"Is it very urgent, darling?" you asked Elena.

"It is!" she responded. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here! Come on, get up!"

Damn, what a damn bad time. You had no choice but to grab your glass and stand up with a sigh. You looked at Anna and Jaime. Cheeky bastards, they were saved for now.

"Sorry to leave you, folks," you said. "My presence is extremely in demand lately."

You looked at Anna and winked. She blew you a kiss with her hand in response. Then you stared at Jaime, not saying a single word as you left with Elena outside.

The person Elena wanted you to meet turned out to be a girl. You combined very well with her; she was very pretty, but also quite shy. That didn't mean anything bad for you, on the contrary it made you more interested in her. Within half an hour you had already exchanged numbers, and within an hour you were sure that you would see her again after that day.

The rest of Elena's friends also generally turned out to be a group of good lads. Some more chaotic than others, of course, but overall you were relieved to know that your cousin had a healthy and pleasant inner circle.

At that moment you were still talking to them, while drinking wine like everyone else, when your aunt approached you and put your hand on her shoulder.

"Oi, dear," she said, and you turned to look at her. "Have you seen Jaime and Anna? It's almost time to cut the cake and I don't see that pair anywhere!"

Fuck, Jaime and Anna. You had forgotten about them completely.

"Uh… no," you looked towards the house. "Not for like an hour."

Your aunt let out a tired breath and shook her head.

"Please go get them darling," she asked, squeezing your hand. "There can be no delays!"

"It will be done immediately, aunt," you nodded. "Just don't despair and keep your husband quiet."

"Go, then," she said, and let go of your hand.

You turned to Elena's group of friends.

"I'll be right back lads," you said, and looked at Elena. "Blame your irresponsible fool of a brother."

After saying goodbye you turned around, and with a sigh you walked straight towards the house.

As expected they were nowhere to be found on the ground floor. But, in the living room where the three of you were, there were still the glasses from which they were drinking. With just a little inspection you could tell that they must have left a short time ago, as the ice inside the glasses was barely melting, the sofas still had slight dents in the seats, and most importantly, you could still perceive Anna's unmistakable perfume in the air.

They had to still be right there inside the house, so you hurried up to the second floor.

As soon as you went up the stairs you had a good range of possibilities to investigate, since it was a level almost as big as the first. Fortunately for you, just to your right was the first and most notable objective.

Jaime's room.

The silence in the house, especially there on the second floor, was absolute. A needle could be heard dropping onto the wooden floor. You weren't going to risk being overheard, so you walked as carefully and slowly as you could to the door of the room. It took about five steps to be in front.

You were going to knock on the door, but that would announce your presence, so you just pressed your ear against the cold varnished wood of the door.

Inside you heard moans. Male moans. And sounds of...

Without thinking twice you opened the door. Inside you found something that you expected, but that you still weren't ready to see.

In front of the lower edge of the bed were those two. Jaime was standing, and Anna was kneeling right in front of him. With his cock in her mouth.

As soon as they noticed your presence Jaime turned around to cover himself and Anna jumped to her feet.

"May I know what the fuck you guys are doing?!" you screeched, frowning. "Have you gone crazy or what?!"

"Noah!" Jaime exclaimed, already turning towards you once he put his cock back in his pants. "We can explain it..."

You walked into the room and slammed the door behind you.

"Oh yes, I'm just excited to hear the reason why you had your cock in your damn cousin's mouth!"

"It was my idea!" Anna intervened, putting herself between you and Jaime. "I'm sorry! We were really horny and... and..."

"Bloody fucking hell," you let out a snort, and put your hands over your face for a moment before looking at Jaime. "It's your sister's damn graduation celebration, mate, wasn't there another time?"

Anna stepped forward and placed a hand on your chest. She was now very close to you, and she was looking into your eyes.

"Again, it was my idea, Noah," she said, her voice lower and more reassuring. "Don't be so hard on Jaime."

"Anna, this is wrong," you said, matching her tone of voice. "I don't even have to explain why."

She was silent for a few seconds, and then looked down to scribble on your chest with her index finger.

"Is it really that bad?" she finally asked, and brought the scribbles up to your neck. You frowned. "I mean... we're not even close cousins, I've seen you guys like four times in my life."

"What the hell are you talking about? You share blood!" you said, somehow not being able to step back and walk away, even though you knew it was all wrong.

A giggle escaped her, and she looked back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Looks like you forgot that too, darling," she said, her voice now husky and sultry. "You've been staring at me all night..."

You immediately looked away. Your heart began to beat harder. Your clenched fists are a sign of how embarrassed you were for not being able to hide it even for a moment.

"Ah, you thought I wouldn't notice?" Anna asked. "You're terrible at dissembling. Unusual for a detective if you ask me."

"I... I think I should go," you said.

You took a step back to turn around, but Anna grabbed your hand and pulled you back to her. This time she pressed herself against you.

"Already?" she asked, with a tone of false surprise. "But you haven't even heard my proposal!"

Having her tight body pressed against yours short-circuited all your systems. You just wanted to run away, escape from that damn temptation that took hold of you with every second you spent near her in such an intimate environment.

"What fucking proposal, Anna," you said, reluctantly, avoiding putting your hands on her no matter how easy it was. "Jaime, can you put an end to this damn madness, please?"

But Jaime was not even remotely interested in doing so. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning on his hands while he watched Anna's progress with interest. Damn idiot. Every day you were more sure that your aunt drank too much damn brandy during her pregnancy.

"Oi oi, don't be so grumpy, darling," Anna said, with a couple of pats on your chest. "Listen to me well..." she stood on tiptoe and got dangerously close to your lips, but in the end she reached your ear. "You can just forget that I'm your distant cousin and let me suck your cock... or walk out that door and miss the opportunity for the rest of your life."

That had to be a damn joke. The hidden camera must be somewhere, you were sure. How the hell did you end up in a situation like this? If you had told your self from five hours ago he would probably have told you that the joint you had smoked had been way too big and thick.

However, if you were honest with yourself, you were crazy about that damn woman. But that was your heart—and kinda your cock—clouding your thoughts. Your brain, on the other hand, was screaming at you and pulling you by the ears to convince you that it was a bad idea, that it was very wrong. You had to agree with him on that, obviously.

But fuck it, you only live once.

You sighed, and turned around to walk towards the exit. Anna may have thought you would leave, but what you did was lock the door.

"Only if the little pillock is okay with it," you said, turning around, and pointed your chin at Jaime.

He frowned and pointed at himself.

"Yes, you," you nodded. "Give your bloody opinion before I regret it."

"You ask as if you don't know the answer."

You looked at Anna, and rubbed the side of her face with the back of your hand.

"You've got the green light, darling," you said, and lowered the back of your hand to her shoulder, and then gently down her arm. "Make it worth it."

She gave you a sly smile and with a gentle movement she put her hand on your bulge, squeezing it and massaging it a few times while biting her lower lip. At first you felt something strange, perhaps the still lingering knowledge that it was very wrong. But it was quickly overshadowed by your lust.

"Everything I do is worth it," she said, and then she kissed you without even hesitation.

Even after feeling her lips against yours, you couldn't help but put some opposition to your desires to touch her. But as Anna deepened the kiss and continued massaging your cock, your moral ties gradually went to hell. You ended up wrapping your arms around her tight body and clinging to her small waist.

After a few brief seconds Anna separated from your lips, and with her hands on your chest she subtly fell to her knees. Jaime stood next to you, and Anna adjusted herself so she was between the two of you. She then brought a hand to each hard bulge to squeeze them.

"Don't even think about looking me in the eyes, Jaime Egerton," you said, just watching as Anna unbuttoned both of your pants and lowered the zippers. "I want to completely forget that you are in this room."

"Bold of you to think that I want to see your dumb face while I have sex, little cousin," Jaime responded, as Anna now pulled down your pants and boxers, your cocks now free and right in front of her face.

You were about to retort to Jaime, until Anna took you inside her small, pretty, warm mouth. Then your words were replaced by a small moan. You closed your eyes for a moment, to enjoy how she sucked those first centimeters; when you opened them you found her gaze fixed on you, while she reached the middle of your shaft with sensual pumps.

Seconds later she did the same with Jaime. It seemed strange and perhaps uncomfortable to see your cousin's cock so close, especially under those circumstances, but all your attention was drawn by Anna, who despite being in the middle of such a lewd and carnal act, still maintained that elegant air that was natural to her, with slow, graceful and deep movements.

Anna pulled Jaime out of her mouth and moved towards you. She grabbed you by the base and pressed your cock against your abdomen to kiss and lick the entire backside.

"Mmm, it seems that good size comes from genetics," she said with a small moan, and put one of your balls in her mouth to suck on it while she slowly masturbated you, just like she did to Jaime with the other hand. "I wonder how good you would feel deep inside my pussy."

With that she returned you into her mouth, and continued with those deep, sensual pumps until she was halfway down your shaft. She increased the speed, but despite this she kept it to a clean blowjob, devoid of messiness. That didn't mean it didn't feel good, but on the contrary, your fists were clenched as well as your jaw, a clear sign that you were going crazy.

A few glorious minutes passed as she alternated between each cock, sucking each one with dedication and with moans that became increasingly needier, both from her and from the two of you. Then you, already crazy to see more of her, reached behind her back and, finding the zipper of her top, you pulled it down and took it off her. A pair of small, round, firm tits were left free; you took your hand to one of them, and Jaime took the other. You both then kneaded each breast and played with her nipples.

Anna's response was to moan into your cock and then take it out for a moment, to also take Jaime's cock and take both of them into her mouth at the same time, in an act of oral flexibility that left you pleasantly surprised. She used her tongue to lick both shafts, while she pumped her head a little faster. Seconds later she pulled you both out of her mouth, and then she gave you both slow deepthroats separately.

"Fuck, enough," she said, pulling you out of her mouth as she masturbated you. "I need one of you two inside of me, immediately."

Anna stood up, but just when you were going to put your hands on her to finish undressing her, three knocks in a row were heard on the door.

Your soul left your body, and your heart stopped beating for a second.

"Jaime?" your aunt's voice from the other side. You three were paralyzed with fright, with horrified expressions. "Dear, are you there?"

You and Jaime exchanged glances. You could only gesture for him to respond quickly.

"Y-yes mother!" he responded. "I'm here with Noah looking for apartments in London, but we don't know where Anna is."

"Well then go out and look for her!" she exclaimed. "It's time to cut the cake! Hurry up!"

You waited a few long, tense seconds to make sure your aunt had already come down. Only after making sure she wasn’t up there, you started dressing quickly.

"Don't think you'll get rid of me," Anna said, walking toward the door once she was dressed. "We'll continue later. And you'll fuck me so hard I'll have to stay another day because of the pain."

She didn't even let you respond; she blew you both a kiss, opened the door and left. You and Jaime stayed silent for a few seconds.

"Noah..."

You raised your arm and finger to signal him to shut up.

"I don't care and I don't want to know, Jaime, now let's go."

"Yes," he nodded with a sigh, and the two of you left the room shortly after.

The rest of the celebration continued as normal. No one suspected anything about the three of you, and it's not like you left too many clues; even though you felt the tension, you made sure not to give any signs that might raise suspicion. What was true was that you were dying to fuck that damn woman, and this time you didn't bother hiding your eyes, so she knew it very well, and she let you know it with the little mischievous smiles that she gave you from time to time.

Your initial plan wasn’t to stay the night that day, so at the end of the party you had to put on a little theater to achieve your goal.

"Oi, auntie," you said, approaching her. "My car broke down, and I'm afraid I won't be able to fix it until next morning, I was wondering if I could stay tonight."

There was really no need to use that lie; you could just stay and that's it. But you wanted to use what little modesty you had left to have a decent excuse.

"Of course you can, darling!" she told you, patting both of your arms. "You know very well that you are always welcome with us. But you will have to stay with Jaime; Anna is using the guest room."

"Oh there’s no problem, thanks aunt! I'll go upstairs."

You turned around and walked towards the house.

"Just don't make a fuss, you cheeky monkeys!" she said behind your back, and you walked inside with a chuckle.

You went directly to Jaime's room, where he was lying on his bed, looking at his phone with one leg resting on the floor and the other up on the mattress.

"Know?" you said, closing the door behind you. "You're a big lad already, why the hell do you still live here?"

"Because I don't have a wife, because I work with father and because mother won't leave me until I get married," he answered without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Makes sense," you nodded, and walked towards his closet. "Where do you keep the inflatable mattress? I'm sure you had one."

Jaime didn't respond, and when you turned your head to look at him he was pointing under his desk, where the mattress was folded.

"Ah, how thoughtful of you."

"I don't think you'll need it tonight, anyway," he replied, as you picked up the mattress and carried it to the side of the bed.

Sure, Anna. You almost forgot.

"Is she...?" You nodded towards the wall to your left—behind it was the guest room—, as you unfolded the mattress and grabbed the air pump from inside.

"Yes, but we can't go right now. Everyone is still awake."

"I thought Elena was going with her friends tonight."

"And she will, but father must be giving them some boring lecture about life."

You sighed, and grabbed the air pump to connect the nozzle to the mattress and start inflating it.

"We'll wait, then."

Unfortunately that was what you had to do for the next three hours. You two avoided talking about the subject, not wanting to make the atmosphere uncomfortable with moralistic and ethical debates at this point; you would have time for that later, when that damn madness you were about to commit happened.

It was 2 in the morning when you were sure that everyone in the house was already asleep and that Elena had already left. You and Jaime left the room, finding yourself face to face with the now dark second floor. It wasn't necessary to turn on any lights, and you didn't want to do it either to avoid attracting attention. The guest room was right next door, so you only had to walk along the wall until you reached the door. You were the one in charge of opening it, and as soon as you entered, your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at what you saw to your left.

Anna was lying on her back in the center of the bed, one leg over the other while she looked at her phone. She was completely naked, and with her brown hair now down. The only thing she still had on was the diamond choker. But everything else was visible: her long toned legs—with a sexy mole on one of her thighs—, her flat, toned tummy—another mole there, above her navel—, and the pair of pretty tits that you had already groped a few hours ago.

She looked at you and giggled mischievously at your stunned faces as you walked inside and closed the door behind you. She then left her phone on the nightstand and turned to lie face down, to also show you a wonderful small but round, firm and beautifully shaped ass.

"I thought you'd never come, gentlemen," she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. "I was starting to get cold."

"It's time to warm up a little, then," Jaime said, taking off his shirt. You imitated him.

You both stood at the edge of the bed, and Anna knelt up to get closer to the two of you. She went straight towards you to crash her lips against yours, and then the groping on both sides started right away. Her hands each went to your cock and Jaime's, squeezing and massaging each bulge above your pajama pants. In response, one hand of yours went to her ass, to grab that firm, perfect piece of meat, and the other went between her legs, to finger her perfectly shaved and smooth little pussy. Jaime also made his part, with kisses on her long neck and his hands on her waist and her tits.

"You brought condoms, right?" She asked against your lips, and then she pulled both cocks out of your pants, while you rubbed her clit and her folds. "I'm not going to fuck without protection."

You took your wallet out of your pocket and threw it on the bed next to her.

"We don't want an Egerton Egerton in the family, don't worry," you said with a giggle.

She laughed too, and she pulled both of your pants and boxers down to the end of your thighs to free your cocks. You took your hands off her so you could undress quickly, and when you were all completely naked, you continued touching her everywhere.

Anna was now kissing Jaime while she stroked both cocks. You were now able to concentrate entirely on kissing every part of her that you had not had the joy of kissing before, from her neck, her shoulders and finally her tits; you brought one to your mouth to suck and lick while you shoved two fingers inside her tight and already wet pussy. She moaned against Jaime's lips, and to get another moan out of her, you brought your free hand between her buttocks to also rub her butthole with your finger.

You fingered her for a few long seconds, taking the full length of your fingers in and out of her with gradually faster pumps. You also stuck a saliva-soaked finger into her butthole, which to your surprise presented almost no opposition as you pumped it.

She moaned again and again, her tight body writhing slightly with pleasure at the three fingers pumping into two of her holes. But after a few seconds she separated from Jaime's lips with a squeal and put her hand on your wrist.

"Oh, for heaven's fucking sake," she complained. "I need a cock inside me, right now."

"I'll do the honors," you said immediately, before Jaime beat you to it, and you pulled your fingers out of her pussy and out of her ass.

Anna moved away from the two of you and moved towards the center of the bed, settling on her hands and knees with a perfect curvature of her back, making her small, round ass look like the eighth wonder of the world. You climbed onto the bed and positioned yourself behind her, while Jaime did so in front of her.

The first thing any other man desperate for cum would do is put on the condom and dive right in, but that perfect wet pussy was too stupidly tempting, so before you gave her what she demanded, you leaned down and you planted your mouth directly on her slit.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned, tensing with her fingers gripping the sheet. "I thought I told you that..."

The next thing you heard was a choking sound and small gags. Jaime had put his cock in her mouth to shut her up, and from what you could hear, Anna had gladly accepted it, since now only sucking sounds combined with cute moans could be heard.

You then concentrated entirely on eating that deliciously soft pussy, with both hands on her buttocks, squeezing firmly as you kissed and licked between her folds. Anna was absolutely loving it; she pushed her ass against your face, smothering you between her buttocks. In response you moved your tongue up to her butthole, causing even more squirms from her, and just to spice it up a little, you gave her a little spank.

After a few seconds of licking, kissing and feasting on both her pussy and her ass, you finally knelt up and grabbed your wallet to open it, take out a condom, open it and quickly put it on. Then, with your cock ready, you placed a hand on her left buttock and rubbed yourself between her folds a few times before slowly entering her.

Anna let out a high-pitched squeal against Jaime's cock, who had her hair in a ponytail as he began pumping his hips and fucking her mouth faster and faster. You soon joined in the effort, placing both hands on her buttocks before beginning to fuck her pussy.

"Holy shit," you gasped, watching your cock slide in and out of her pussy, which had the hell of a grip. "So fucking tight."

After a few seconds, both you and Jaime put burning coal in your engines and made a sudden gear change. Now you were both fucking her from both sides in a frenzy of thrusting and moaning. On one hand you could hear the gagging sounds thanks to Jaime's cock constantly hitting her throat, and on the other the sound of your pelvis in non-stop collisions against her ass.

A little over a minute passed before Anna latched onto Jaime's thighs and exploded in an intense wave of spasms and screams that made her pull his cock out of her mouth. She was moaning a little too loudly, so Jaime grabbed her hair and shoved two fingers into her mouth until her orgasm dissipated.

"My turn," Jaime said, and you knew he was talking to you.

You reluctantly pulled out from inside Anna's pussy, and swapped places with Jaime. But first he grabbed her by her waist and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide for him, and made eye contact with you.

"Are you having fun, handsome?" she asked in a husky, sultry tone of voice, her chin stained with saliva. Jaime, meanwhile, put on a condom.

"I'm the one who should ask you that question," you replied, and put your cock on top of her face to rub it from side to side. "You seem to be in paradise."

"Looks like you're not the only one who's horrible at dissembling, then," she said with a giggle, and in one of those she grabbed your cock to suck on it with the condom still on.

Seconds later Jaime took his cock inside her, and Anna moaned around your cock. He grabbed her thighs and pressed them back, while you put your left hand on her neck, and your right on one of her tits, before you started pumping your hips up and down and fuck her mouth.

Anna became a mess of moans and writhing when Jaime began to fuck her hard, and all that feedback was enjoyed by your cock, which received constant vibrations inside her warm mouth. That made you moan with pleasure, the fingers of your left hand tightly clinging to her neck and your right hand now on her attractive midriff.

Jaime on the other hand was stronger and stronger. Now he had brought Anna's legs together and placed her ankles over his right shoulder. He hugged her thighs, and between gasps he hammered her pussy as fast as he could.

You were also going at full speed, your cock entering and leaving her mouth at a pace that could perfectly be harmful to her, but she seemed to love how your cock reached her throat and bulged it, because she even used her tongue on the back of your shaft, and spit all the accumulated saliva upwards to make it a sloppy mess.

That was feeling way too good, and your orgasm was right around the corner, so you waited a few seconds before pulling out of her mouth, taking off the condom, and fucking her mouth again until you exploded inside her throat.

The timing was perfect, because just as you shot your huge, hot load into her mouth, Jaime made her reach a second orgasm in which she couldn't even moan, only wriggle like a rag doll and tense her muscles, choking on your cock and your cum.

Apparently she was squeezing like hell, because Jaime also came a few seconds later, fucking her through her orgasm. He then, a moment later, pulled his cock out of her and removed the cum-filled condom to throw it on the floor. You also left her mouth.

"Oh god… god!" she moaned after taking a deep breath. "Please don't stop, take my ass!"

"You're lucky I have a condom left, darling," you told her, caressing the side of her face with the back of your hand.

"Me too," Jaime mentioned, still panting. "Have you ever had two cocks inside you at the same time?"

"I haven't had the pleasure, dear," she replied, looking at him. "But I would love for you two to please me."

Jaime grabbed his pants and took out one last condom, which he put on in a matter of seconds. Then he went and lay down next to her.

"Come and ride me then, princess," he said. "Noah, you take her from behind. I know you love that view."

"I told you not to fucking talk to me, Jaime," you reiterated with a sigh, reaching into your wallet to pull out another condom.

Anna mounted Jaime after putting extra effort on her legs, which were already shaking. She adjusted her thighs on either side of his waist, while you put on the condom and positioned yourself over Jaime's legs and directly behind her.

"Don't you need lube for these things?" you asked, and spit between her buttocks to spread the saliva on the outside and inside of her butthole.

"Saliva will do it," she said, lifting her hips so that Jaime held his cock straight and she could impale herself on it. "Mmmgh!" she moaned, again with a cock deep in her pussy, then she looked at you over her shoulder. "You just fucking do it, I love doing it raw."

You laughed and pressed the tip of your cock against her butthole, while Jaime pumped his hips up and down in and out of her pussy.

"You'd think Anna Egerton was an elegant and refined damsel even in bed," you said, pressing forward to take your first few inches into her ass.

Anna threw her neck back and let out a painstakingly suppressed scream, followed by a grunt of pleasure, nails digging into Jaime's chest as you slowly sank to the bottom of her butthole and he fucked her patiently, knowing that you hadn't started yet.

A few seconds later, when you were completely inside her and you gave her a few pumps to get her used to it, the real debauchery began, dirty and disastrous.

You and Jaime fucked her mercilessly, hard and fast, him destroying her pussy and you destroying her ass. Jaime had one of her tits in her mouth, and both of his arms wrapped around her torso to hold her tightly. You, for your part, had her long, beautiful, shiny brown hair in a messy ponytail, with your free hand placed on one of her buttocks.

After a few long seconds you didn't even care about regulating her moans, no matter how loud they were, you were so absorbed in pleasure that the possible consequences of making too much of a fuss and being discovered did not cross your mind. In a way you could be somewhat calm, since that room was quite far from the master bedroom, but still, you were playing with fire.

But you knew perfectly well that you were playing with fire, and you were loving getting burned with it. Anna's body was a damn delight, a complete confection baked by fucking Aphrodite herself. It was simply hot in every possible part, but without a doubt your favorite part was that beautiful ass, which at that moment you were jiggling with every thrust.

"Mmmgh fuck fuck fuck yes!" she moaned, her neck going back from the force of your pull. "Hard, fast! Destroy me like a fucking filthy whore!"

That was certainly not the expected behavior of a refined damsel with duchess wood. Funny, to say the least.

You gave her another spank, and then another harder one on the same buttock. She loved that, as she screamed in pleasure and looked at you with lust-filled eyes every time your hand hit her skin. You soon brought her to a third orgasm, but that didn't stop you.

"Come here," you ordered, and you climbed out of her ass to go and stand on the side of the bed.

They both looked at you and were ready to get up, but Jaime had to carry Anna out of bed, because her legs were so shaky that it would be impossible for her to stand up.

Jaime released her in front of you, and you wrapped your arms around her body to pick her up and hold her by her thighs. She immediately rested her back on Jaime's chest, so her weight didn't fall solely on you. Her arms went behind, holding on to Jaime's head with her eyes on you, while you entered her pussy and Jaime entered her ass.

A new segment of using Anna as a cute, submissive sex doll began, only this time you had the privilege of looking straight into her eyes while you fucked her tight ass at full gear.

Her legs just wouldn't stop shaking, and she wouldn't stop writhing between desperate moans, tears in her eyes. She let her head fall back onto Jaime's shoulder, allowing herself to be manipulated by you like a rag doll while she pulled him on his hair. Then she brought a hand to her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut as a fourth orgasm hit her.

Anna instinctively bit the side of her hand, muffling loud screams and moans against it. She did it perhaps too hard, because when she let go of her hand, she left all of her teeth marked in an intense red on her own skin, one of the marks even letting out a droplet of blood.

She then simply collapsed and became heavier, so that you and Jaime had to double your efforts to hold her up in the air. She was still conscious, as her eyes were open and she was biting her lip, but she wasn't blinking, and she wasn't moving either, she was just so overwhelmed with pleasure that her brain didn't react.

Fortunately for her you didn't take long to give the last few thrusts to her pussy before you exploded, in what had been one of the most electrifying and mindblowing orgasms you had ever experienced. Jaime followed closely behind you, also cumming between slow pumps in and out of her.

You filled Anna's tits with kisses and hickeys, while Jaime kissed her neck and the side of her face, treating her like the princess she was. After a few seconds you both came out of her, while her body was still shaking as if she were being given mini electric shocks.

"Maybe..." she said in a small voice. "Maybe I will end up staying here in the UK."

Then, only then, you looked Jaime in the eyes. Curiously you met his worried gaze, a reflection of your own. You didn't say anything, but you knew that that damn woman would have a noose around your neck for a long time.

You were screwed.

---------------------------------

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warrioreowynofrohan · 8 months ago

Text

Reading Tolkien’s annotated translation of Beowulf, and learning all kinds of things about LOTR and the Silm from it!

First:

Leave here your warlike shields [from Beowulf]

[Tolkien’s commentary; bold mine:] Note the prohibition of weapons or accoutrements of battle in the hall. To walk in with spear and shield was like walking in nowadays with your hat on. The basis of these rules was of course fear and prudence among the ever-present dangers of a heroic age, but they were made part of the ritual, of good manners. Compare the prohibition against drawing a sword in the officers’ mess. Swords of course also were dangerous; but they were evidently regarded as part of a knight’s attire, and he would not in any case be willing to lay aside his sword, a thing of great cost and often an heirloom.

This gives me some perspective around Tolkien’s probable intended tone for the moment in Meduseld in The Two Towers where Aragon strongly protests against being told to leave Andúril (a sword of very great value and ancientry, and very much an heirloom) with the door-warden. From a contemporary perspective it’s easy to read it as Aragorn being unnecessarily prideful and combative, but this passage strongly indicates that Tolkien intends it to be Théoden who is being unreasonable in that event, an indication - along with many others in the scene, prior to Gandalf dislodging Saruman’s influence - that Théoden is being discourteous and behaving in a manner unworthy of a king who is recieving heroes offering aid. (The fact of Meduseld being a ‘golden hall’ like famous Heorot in Beowulf may be deliberate to strengthen the parallel.)

Second (immediately following the above commentary):

But against this danger [from swords] very severe laws existed protecting the ‘peace’ of a king’s hall. It was death in Scandanavia to cause a brawl in the king’s hall. Among the laws of the West Saxon king Ine is found: ‘If any man fight in the king’s house, he shall forfeit all his estate, and it shall be for the king to judge whether he be put to death or not.’

This adds context to the incident in the story of Túrin in The Silmarillion where Saeros taunts Túrin in Menegroth and Túrin responds by throwing a heavy drinking-vessel at him and injuring him (it’s indicated the injury is serious, so I’d take it along the lines of him giving him a broken nose and knocking out some teeth.) It is stated in at least some versions of the story that death is the punishment for drawing weapons in the king’s hall, in line with the historical customs mentioned here. This gives a further emphasis that what actually happens - Túrin is not punished at all and Mablung strongly reprimands Saeros for provoking him - illustrates that Túrin is, Saeros’ behaviour notwithstanding, in very high favour in Menegroth. (Saeros as the king’s counsellor is also in roughly the same position as Unferth in Beowulf, who taunts the titular character - Beowulf responds heatedly but without violence. Tolkien may be setting up a deliberate contrast here.)

Third:

The word hádor is an adjective meaning ‘clear, bright’…it is almost always found in reference to the sky (or the sun or stars). But that association is in description of brightness…

This was one a lightbulb moment: oh, in the name of Hador Goldenhead (the ancestor of Húrin, Túrin, and Tuor in The Silmarillion), ‘Goldenhead’ isn’t an additional name/epessë so much as it’s a glossed translation of ‘Hador’! The guy with bright, golden hair.

Fourth: Going back to the Rohirrim - Edoras, the name of their capital city/royal court, is basically just the Old English for ‘courts’:

under was very frequently used in describing position within, or movement to within, a confined space, especially of enclosures or prisons, ‘within four walls’. Cf. in under eoderas (eoderas being the outer fences of the courts), ‘in amid the courts’….‘eoder’ means both ‘fence (protection)’ and ‘fenced enclosure, a court’.

I’m also learning a lot about Beowulf - Tolkien’s notes are clarifying a lot of tone and nuances, not to mention the political/diplomatic relationships between the different kingdoms, which were confusing me - but it’s amazing how much it reveals about ways that Tolkien’s knowledge informed his legendarium!

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings #rohan #aragorn #theoden #turin #hador #edain #beowulf #translation

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demifiendrsa · 3 months ago

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EGOT winning american film, television, and broadway actor James Earl Jones has passed away on September 9, 2024 at the age of 93.

Jones made his film debut in Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove. He received a Golden Globe Award nomination for Claudine. Jones gained international fame for his voice role as Darth Vader in the Star Wars franchise, beginning with the original 1977 film. Jones' other notable roles include in Conan the Barbarian, Matewan, Coming to America, Field of Dreams, The Hunt for Red October, The Sandlot, and the voice of Mufasa in The Lion King. Jones reprised his roles in Star Wars media, The Lion King (2019) remake, and Coming 2 America.

Jones' television work includes playing Woodrow Paris in the series Paris between 1979 and 1980. He voiced various characters on the animated series The Simpsons in three separate seasons. He then was cast as Gabriel Bird, the lead role in the series Gabriel's Fire which aired from 1990 to 1991. For that role, he won the Primetime Emmy Award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series and was nominated for his fourth Golden Globe Award, this time for Best Actor in a Television Series Drama. He played Bird again in the series Pros and Cons, which ran from 1991 to 1992; that earned him his fifth and final Golden Globe Award for Best Actor in a Television Series Drama. He then had small appearances in the series Law & Order, Picket Fences , Mad About You, Touched by an Angel, Frasier. His role in Picket Fences earned him another Primetime Emmy Award nomination, one for Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series. His later television work includes small roles in Everwood, Two and a Half Men, House, and The Big Bang Theory.

Jones' theater work includes numerous Broadway plays, including Sunrise at Campobello (1958–1959), Danton's Death (1965), The Iceman Cometh (1973–1974), Of Mice and Men (1974–1975), Othello (1982), On Golden Pond (2005), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (2008) and You Can't Take It with You (2014–2015). He was also in various off Broadway productions and Shakespeare stage adaptations such as The Merchant of Venice (1962), The Winter's Tale (1963), Othello (1964–1965), Coriolanus (1965), Hamlet (1972), and King Lear (1973). His roles in The Great White Hope (1969) and Fences (1987) earned him two Tony Awards, both for Best Leading Actor in a Play.

#James Earl Jones #Star Wars #Darth Vader #The Lion King #Dr. Strangelove #Conan the Barbarian #Coming to America #Field of Dreams #Matewan #The Hunt for Red October #The Sandlot #film #television #broadway #obituary #R.I.P.

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eddiethebrave · 3 months ago

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you're alright

Steddie’s Back to School Bash (@thehairandthebanished) Summer Fling | you're alright | Rated M | CW: recreational drug use, injury, blood, implied drugging | Additional Tags: hurt/comfort 777 words

After waiting an hour and a half in the trailer, Eddie moves outside. When another half hour passes by with no sight of Steve, Eddie takes his pity party to the roof.

He's not disappointed. He’s not. Why would he be? Harrington blew him off, probably to take some girl to the Fun Fair. So what? It’s fine.

It’s fine. Great, actually. Now he has ample time to himself.

He should have known better than to trust Steve when he said they’d have their first real date tonight. They were gonna go to the fair and play all the cheesy games and sit in the ferris wheel and maybe even kiss at the top like a movie.

Stupid.

Eddie pays no mind to the tears blurring his vision as he lights up and inhales deeply. When he lets the smoke go, his breath comes out shakily, but he pays no mind to that, either.

It’s well over an hour later, after the fireworks and probably after the fair is closed, that Eddie is laying on his back and looking up at the stars.

He’d planned to bring Steve up here after the fair for a little night cap, but now he’s wrapped up by himself in the blanket he’d hauled up here back when he thought he had a date tonight.

Eddie listens to the sounds of the trailer park as he drifts. Someone has their TV up way too loud for this time of night, but Eddie isn’t exactly one to judge with how loud he blasts music when Wayne is on his night shift. There’s a dog barking coming from the direction of one of the trailers with a fence. The soft rumble of an engine and then footsteps on gravel. A knock.

A voice.

“Eddie, I’m here.” Another knock. “Baby, please.” A voice crack.

Eddie hauls himself up and maneuvers his way back to the ground. He lands with a thud and rounds the trailer to see Steve standing on his front steps with his forehead pressed to the door. He’s still in his work uniform, which pulls a small smile onto Eddie’s lips despite the circumstances.

He must have given up on trying to get Eddie’s attention because he’s no longer knocking or calling out for him. As Eddie gets closer he hears a low murmur, though. “Please, Eddie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please.”

Eddie’s heart breaks hearing the quiet pleas.

He stands at the bottom of his stairs so he doesn’t spook him. “Steve?”

He whips around and Eddie’s heart drops. He doesn’t even have time to take in all of the injuries before Steve is throwing himself down the stairs. Eddie catches him, all the air punched out of him as their bodies collide.

Steve isn’t crying, but he’s clinging to Eddie like he’s on the verge.

“Sorry, sorry. I missed it. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie knows he won’t get answers from Steve while he’s in this state. He rubs his hands over Steve’s back soothingly. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s okay. I promise. You’re alright.”

Steve still has his head buried in Eddie’s neck and as much as he doesn’t want to deny the comfort right now, they have to go inside.

He worms his hand into Steve’s hair and if everything else didn’t clue him into the fact that something is very very wrong, the fact that Steve lets him touch his hair at all is a sure sign. He tries not to let the worry and panic seep into his voice as he eases Steve’s head back just enough to see him properly. He tries his best not to react to the blood and the swelling and the black eye and and and.

“Let’s get you inside? Hmm? How does that sound?”

Steve blinks his eyes open and Eddie takes note of the blown pupils. Steve nods his assent and they head in.

After he gets Steve cleaned up and into new clothes, they cuddle up on the couch with a movie playing in the background. (Steve has a drawer with various clothing items he’s left behind over the weeks, but he’d quietly asked if he could wear something of Eddie’s. And what was he supposed to do? Say no? Yeah right.)

Eddie strokes Steve’s hair to help lull him to sleep and eventually the boy dozes off.

Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck happened but what he does know is that he’s not letting Steve out of his sight for the foreseeable future and he will do everything in his power to protect him and keep him happy.

Maybe they’ll even get to reschedule that date.

#thought i'd give it a shot #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #SBTSB24

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ckret2 · 3 months ago

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Chapter 66 of that fic about human Bill but he's not in this chapter so forget about him: Ford and Dipper go cryptid hunting!

This is pretty much a standalone chapter so if somehow you stumbled on this without seeing the rest of the fic, u can just, read it by itself as a standalone Dipper and Ford adventure. It's funny. Promise.

####

The camera turned on to reveal Dipper, illuminated sunset orange and cast in heavy shadows, holding the camera out at arm's length. "Welcome back to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained, anomaly #175: the Fremont Nightwigglers!" He held up a paper title card in his free hand. "I'm Dipper Pines, and today I'm honored to introduce our special guest star—" he turned the camera around to focus on Ford from behind, "—the one and only Dr. Stanford Pines, PhD times twelve—"

Ford laughed self-consciously. "Dipper, nobody's going to recognize my name outside of a few highly specialized academic fields—"

"—the scientist who developed the Theory of Weirdness—"

"That paper isn't even ready for peer review yet, and I can't take all the credit—"

"—and the coolest dimension-hopping monster-fighting mystery-investigating great uncle in the world!"

Ford paused thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll take that one."

"Tonight, we're on the trail of the Fremont Nightwigglers." The recording cut to CCTV footage from a much higher-budget cryptid-hunting show (which Dipper had recorded by aiming the camera at the TV). The footage showed two marshmallow-like creatures that seemed to consist solely of heads, long legs, and feet—smooth, ghostly white, and featureless except for black eyes. They wore denim jeans that covered their bodies from ankles to waists, and their legs seemed to bend jointlessly, like an octopus's arms or an elephant's trunk. "These weird armless creatures have been seen up and down the west coast states, leaving behind a wave of jeans thefts at clothing stores; but by the time local law enforcement has ruled out any human suspects, the true culprits are always long gone."

The recording cut back to Dipper, who'd taken the lead so he could turn around the camera and aim it at both himself and Ford. "Based on investigative research done by Dr. Pines in the 80s, we believe the Nightwigglers have a migratory route several years long that passes through California, Oregon, Washington, and Canada. More research is needed to find out if they travel as far as Alaska or Mexico. Locals believe each Nightwiggler creates an individual burrow around a communal gathering spot to hide in during the day, and at night they assemble in the communal spot to travel or forage in nearby towns."

Ford threw in, "Based on what the townspeople told me about their habits, they've been in Gravity Falls much longer than usual. It typically takes them a week or two to pass through the area, but this year there have been sightings for more than a month. Perhaps we'll find out why."

"And thanks to a hot tip from an in-the-know local"—the recording cut to a few seconds of footage of Wendy proving she could do a handstand on the split-rail fence around the Mystery Shack—"we know which assembly spot they're currently camping around! Tonight, we're trying to get the first deliberate footage of a Nightwiggler..." Dipper lowered the camera and turned toward Ford, "Hey, what'll we call a group of them? A flock? Herd? Meeting? If we're the first investigators to officially document the species, we get to come up with the name , right?"

Ford considered the question. "What about a wobble of Nightwigglers? Since their legs are so... wobbly."

"Sure, that works."

"Is this really your 175th episode?" Ford asked. "I've missed quite a few."

"Ye—well..." Dipper lowered the camera. It recorded his shoes as he walked. "So far I've got a list of 175 anomalies I want to do an episode on, but I've only recorded and posted thirty-something. I think you've seen them all except the two I've done this summer." He sighed. "I'm... kinda disappointed by it, honestly."

"Why? You should be proud of your work so far! You're the only person in the world who's caught footage of the Hide Behind."

"By accident."

"Because you learned how to identify its call, chased it through half the forest, and were prepared with the right equipment to record it. That wasn't luck, Dipper—that was your hard work."

"I guess," Dipper said grudgingly. "I just... wanted to have a lot more produced by now."

"Wh—You started these last June? That's about one every two weeks. That's a very impressive output."

"I made most of them last summer, I hardly did any over the last school year or this summer."

"You've been focusing on your studies, that's good."

"Yeah, but what about this summer? All I've done so far is borrow some of Robbie's music video footage to make an episode about zombies and record some footage I haven't edited yet about Pacifica's alpaca thief. I didn't even get any footage of the haunted doll crane game before it disappeared. Most of the time I've been just... hiding in Soos's room playing Bloodcraft: Overdeath"—(under his breath Ford muttered "Blood-craft over death?")—"or hanging out with Wendy and her friends, or helping Soos with the Mystery Shack, or just trying to avoid..." He trailed off, suddenly conscious of the camera still aimed at the ground. It had started recording footprints drying in the mud after the recent rain: soft indents like the pads of paws, but with no distinct toes, about the size and length of human feet. Dipper lifted the camera to better record the trail they were walking down.

"Well... there's nothing wrong with taking a break during the summer," Ford said. "Especially considering that your last summer was... quite a bit more exciting than most kids'—"

"That's just it!" Dipper said. "Last summer I did so much! I investigated your disappearance, I filled half of your third journal, I helped stop the apocalypse, I wrote a book with Mabel about solving mysteries and doing fun stuff, I recorded like twenty Guides to the Unknown... Compared to that, this summer I feel like I'm—falling behind."

"Falling behind what?"

"I don't know. But—I just—I... feel like..." He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."

Ford offered, "Maybe, like you're not living up to your own potential?"

"Yes! That's it," Dipper said. "I'm not trying to grow up too fast, I'm just worried I'll grow up before I've done all the stuff I'm supposed to do now. Like I'm already running out of time."

"Hmm..." Ford let out a long, thoughtful sigh. "Dipper, I'm probably the wrong person to be giving this advice, considering that I'm not exactly... the paragon of moderation when it comes to pursuing professional ambitions. But—remember that you're only thirteen. Right now, you don't need to be worried about graduating valedictorian and starting up an anomaly-hunting show and doing groundbreaking research into previously-unknown strange and wondrous creatures," Ford said. "You just need to focus on graduating valedictorian first. That's all I did with my high school years, and after that I still managed to rack up multiple PhDs before age 30. You've got plenty of time!" He said this with the confidence of a man who didn't realize having his life derailed by a manipulative alien villain was the only reason he didn't burn out hard by 1984. "Outside of that, just... worry about being a kid."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said. "I keep worrying, though. I keep thinking, what if I'm wasting all my time on stuff that... just... doesn't matter? What if nothing I'm doing is actually important?"

Ford was silent a moment. "That's... a very existential question for your age. How long have you been worrying—"

Dipper hissed, "Grunkle Ford!" He jerked his camera up. "Is that fire?!" There was a faint orange glow in the distance between the trees.

"I think it is!"

Dipper whispered, "That's where I found the Nightwigglers' abanadoned campsite last time!"

"Did you see any signs that they knew how to start fires? Remains of a campfire?"

"I didn't notice anything."

"It could be a Scampfire..."

As quietly as they could, Dipper and Ford edged through the trees, Dipper all the while pointing the camera toward the light, until they found a narrow gap between two trees from which they could peer into the clearing.

There were three or four dozen Nightwigglers milling about in little clusters. Several had lit torches—sturdy sticks with the ends wrapped in fabric—which they carried by sticking the ends of the torches into their jeans' pockets.

"Dipper, look at the tops of their torches," Ford hissed. "Is that shredded denim?"

The camera zoomed in on the nearest torchbearing Nightwiggler. "I think so."

"We already knew they wore clothing—but they can make tools, too? How advanced are they..."

Ford trailed off as the clustered Nightwigglers separated, spreading out evenly into several rings. As the camera recorded, they began emitting a synchronized muffled humming; and then they began dancing, kicking their legs and turning in circles together. "Whoa," Dipper whispered. "Is this some kind of ritual?"

"What's its purpose?" Ford whispered back. "Recreation? Religion? Some sort of cultural event—?"

"Hold on. I think I recognize the song."

Ford and Dipper fell silent, watching in silence as the dance repeated a couple of times.

The Nightwigglers were doing the Hokey Pokey.

"Fascinating." The camera lurched sideways, and then turned toward Ford. Ford had stolen Dipper's journal from out of his vest pocket and was hastily taking notes on a blank page. "I had no idea Nightwiggler culture was so influenced by human culture. An hour ago, we didn't even know Nightwigglers have a culture. When could they have observed and learned the Hokey Pokey? It's not exactly a nighttime dance—do they spy on humans during the day?"

Dipper said, "What if we learned the dance from Nightwigglers?"

Ford stopped writing, looked up, and stared at Dipper, mind blown.

Dipper jerked the camera back toward the Nightwigglers as they filed out of the clearing. "Hey! Where are they going now?"

Dipper and Ford waited until the last Nightwiggler had left; and then they quietly followed.

####

After several minutes of silence except for the sound of footsteps, Ford said, "Are we headed toward Mabel's Fault?"

Dipper groaned. "I got enough of this place last week."

"Agreed."

"Hey, you know Bill said we should rename it 'Bill's Fault'?"

Ford huffed. "Did he really? I don't believe it."

"Yeah. He tried to play it off like, 'oOOoh, I just want creEDit—'"

"That sounds like him—"

They came to a stop as the camera spied the Nightwigglers standing in the clearing around the fault, then they quickly moved off the path into the brush and crept closer. "What are they doing?" Dipper asked as they inched up to the tree line.

"I don't know—they're packed too tightly together for me to see."

"I've got an idea. Hold this." The camera bounced as Dipper passed it to Ford, who watched as Dipper climbed up one of the pine trees around the clearing.

"Careful! There aren't a lot of low branches that can hold your weight."

"It's okay, Wendy showed me how to do this." Dipper held out his hand for the camera.

Ford passed it up to him. "What do you see?"

The camera foused on Mabel's Fault. "The Nightwigglers closest to the fault are taking off their jeans, ripping them into two separate legs, and... tossing them in the fault? Have you ever heard of this?"

"Never."

"Like a dozen have done it so far."

"Perhaps that's why they have to steal so many pairs of pants? But why..."

Dipper gasped. Tiny Nightwigglers had begun squirming out of the fault, each wearing a single denim pant leg, crawling around like inchworms with half the pant leg trailing behind them. The bigger Nightwigglers picked up the little ones with their feet and swaddled them in the excess fabric. "They're—I think they're baby Nightwigglers! Coming out of the fault!"

"Amazing! Is this how they reproduce?" Ford asked. "Is that why they travel the west coast—are they following the San Andreas Fault and the volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest?"

"Maybe that's why they've been in town so long," Dipper said. "Mabel's Fault wasn't here the last time they passed through."

"We'll have to find out what other towns they stay in the longest. How far is Fremont from the fault line—?"

"Hey," Dipper said, "A bunch more Nightwigglers took their jeans off. They're tying them in a circle." One of the torchbearer Nightwigglers knelt down and bowed forward, setting the jeans ring on fire; and it was tossed into the fault. The Nightwigglers that weren't carrying infants formed a circle and began Hokey Pokeying toward the fault.

"That definitely looks like a ritual," Ford said, "but why? To celebrate the births...?"

The ground rumbled. Dipper gasped and slipped several feet down the tree before he caught himself. When he refocused the camera, Mabel's Fault was several feet wider, and a fiery glow was rising up from within.

An enormous Nightwiggler, fifteen feet tall, climbed out of the fault. It wore a crown of flaming denim and tattered pants formed by stitching together many pairs of decades-old jeans. The Nightwigglers bowed down.

"Good lord," Ford breathed. "What is that? Did they summon it, or—or was it always down there?"

The giant Nightwiggler watched regally as its subjects danced around it. As they spun around and completed another repetition of the Hokey Pokey—that's what it's all a-BOUT—the giant punctuated the end of the dance with a ground-shaking stomp.

Dipper lost his grip on the tree. He and the camera crashed to the ground with a yelp.

"Dipper! Are you alright?!"

"Ow... fine, probably just bruised."

The camera caught Ford kneeling to help Dipper sit up, and then Dipper grabbed the camera again as he stood. He pointed it back at the clearing.

Every single Nightwiggler, babies and giant included, was staring at them with wide black eyes.

Ford said, "Uh oh."

The giant let out a bellow like a muffled hunting horn.

The Nightwigglers charged.

Dipper and Ford ran away through the brush, screaming.

####

Dipper pointed the camera at his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks and arms were covered in small branch scrapes. "Still works," he reported to Ford.

"Great," Ford said. "That thing's hardy."

The camera jerked as Dipper tried to set it on a tree stump.

"Well, we got away with our lives," he said. "But... not without some losses."

He got the camera settled and backed up. He was wearing his vest zipped up around his hips like a skirt. Ford's trench coat was conspicuously buttoned up, and his legs were bare between his coat and boots. They both looked sheepish.

Ford said, "We've acquired some invaluable anthropological data, though."

"I'm calling this investigation a triumph," Dipper said.

Ford offered a hand. "High six!"

In the background, a skinny-legged Nightwiggler wearing Dipper's shorts darted through the trees.

####

(It's about time Dipper get a little personal attention. Hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

#dipper pines #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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coff33andb00ks · 6 months ago

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Rule Breaker - Pt 2

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this

The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.

"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.

"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.

"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."

"Marketing?" The other man guessed.

Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."

"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"

"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."

Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"

"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."

"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.

Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."

"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.

Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."

"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.

"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."

"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.

"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.

"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.

"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."

"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.

"Well it's working, I'm charmed."

A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"

"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"

She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"

"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.

"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.

"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."

As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—

He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.

Fuck.

Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.

She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.

"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."

"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."

"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning. Already working?"

"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."

"You walked the track?"

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."

Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"

"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."

"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.

He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."

"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."

"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.

"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."

He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."

Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."

That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."

"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."

"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."

"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"

Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."

That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."

"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."

"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.

"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"

"Are you saying you don't love your job?"

She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."

"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.

"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.

"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.

She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"

"I like to think so."

"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "

She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."

"Why?"

"Why?" she echoed.

"Why did you pick it apart?"

"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.

"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.

"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."

"Why?"

"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."

Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.

"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."

"Y/n."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"

"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.

"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."

His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."

She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"

"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."

"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"

"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.

"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."

"That's good."

"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.

"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"

"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."

"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"

"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.

Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."

*-*

He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.

"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.

Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."

"And racing is life."

"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.

"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."

"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."

She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."

"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.

He choked on a laugh. "You what?"

"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."

"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.

"Yes," she groaned.

"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."

"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."

"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.

"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."

He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."

She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"

"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."

"Max—"

"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."

"I'll wake you."

She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.

Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, we just— Who's this?"

"Max. This is Ellie?"

"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"

Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."

Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."

"Is everything okay with Kevin?"

As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."

"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."

"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"

She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.

"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.

Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?

Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."

"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"

He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."

His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"

"Yep."

"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."

What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—

You do.

—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.

Wasn't it?

And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.

"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.

"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.

Witchcraft.

"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.

"Of course," he answered automatically.

She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."

Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."

"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."

Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.

"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"

Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.

"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.

"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.

"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.

"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.

"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.

"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.

"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"

"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."

"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.

"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."

Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"

Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."

"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.

"He made a man out of 'em."

"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."

Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"

Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"

"I—"

"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.

"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.

"Yay!"

He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.

"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.

*-*

"So…"

Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"

"He had coffee with you."

God, here we go.

"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"

"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.

"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.

Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.

"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.

"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.

"He's cute."

"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.

"You know—"

"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"In a heartbeat."

"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.

"I'm not here for that."

"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."

"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."

"Exactly."

It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."

"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."

She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"

"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"

"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."

"Only until they fuck a baby into you."

"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.

Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"

"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."

Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"

"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."

"Christ! Get it away from me!"

Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.

"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.

"Don't care!"

Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."

"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"

"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.

"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.

"Shut it."

"I didn't say a word."

"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.

"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."

"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.

She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.

"True…"

"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"

"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"

She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—

"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."

"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I�� Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.

"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…

"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.

She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."

She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."

She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."

"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."

She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"

"As you should." He brushed past her.

She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—

"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.

Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"

Please go up, please go up, please go—

"What's wrong?"

Goddammit.

"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."

"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.

"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"

"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"

"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."

Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.

"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."

"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."

"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."

"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."

"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.

"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."

"I don't want to cause a fuss—"

"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"

"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"

"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."

Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"

"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."

"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."

"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.

"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."

"I really do hate social media," he snorted.

"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."

"For hating social media? You're welcome."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

anytime

javier peña x f!reader

summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”

wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.

Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.

For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.

You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.

Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.

You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.

In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.

Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.

For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.

You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.

Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.

When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.

The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.

It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.

He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.

Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”

Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”

Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.

One. Two. Th—

Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.

And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.

Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.

One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—

Why are you even single? How are you?

You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.

Now, it’s all he wants to ask.

Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—

“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”

He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.

“I’ll go with you.”

He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.

He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?”

Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.

Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.

Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.

You look like a fucking dream.

A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.

Close your mouth, Peña.

I’m chewing gum, solecito.

Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.

It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:

JUST FRIENDS.

Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.

Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.

Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.

But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”

Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”

“Rude.”

Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.

Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.

“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”

Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.

And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t.

Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—

“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”

You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.

But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.

“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.

Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.

He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.

This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.

It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.

The ceremony will start soon.

He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.

“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.

“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”

He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.

One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.

Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”

“You got any idea what’s right?”

You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.

You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.

Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.

So far, he’s found none.

Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.

It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.

You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.

He even told you about the boats.

A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.

That should have been the first sign.

He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.

Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.

Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.

Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.

A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.

“Hey, Peña.”

“Hey solecito.”

You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.

“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”

“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”

He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.

If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.

Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.

“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.

“Sure.”

It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.

He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.

You make it easy.

Make it all bearable.

But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.

“You look really pretty.”

Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”

Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.

Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.

And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.

Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.

“Anytime, cariño.”

“Anytime, really?”

Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”

Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I could…”

Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.

The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.

“But?” you ask, delicately.

Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.

Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—

“You don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”

Snorting, he smiles.

“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”

Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.

And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.

an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.

#javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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