#hello; the bitch has arrived

[tojisteddy]

Ruthless

or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.

cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader

a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot

part 2!!! <3

You were running like your life depended on it.

It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.

You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.

It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.

Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.

Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.

The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.

They called him Ghost.

There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.

No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.

You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.

Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.

They’d do it again.

But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.

Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.

No fucking way.

Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.

You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.

Well duh, babe. Move those feet!

And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.

Oh you were definitely in for it now.

You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.

Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”

Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.

Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.

“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”

Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.

And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.

He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,

“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.

“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.

“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.

You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”

He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.

It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.

What other option did you have?

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.

“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.

You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.

Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.

“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.

“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”

With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.

“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.

“Spray painting my fences,” SMACK!

“Tryin to egg my house,” SMACK!

“‘Nd Ruinin my fuckin crops?!” SMACK!

“You’ve lost,” SMACK! “you’re damn,” SMACK! “mind! little girl!” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.

And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.

Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.

Oh— you're crazy.

You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.

He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.

“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.

But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”

You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.

You whine, “Mr. Riley-“

“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”

Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.

He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.

“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”

And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.

“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.

You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.

“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.

He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”

“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.

“I do.”

And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.

He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”

He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”

“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”

“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.

A baby.

You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.

“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.

“Wha-“

“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”

He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.

Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.

“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”

You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.

“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.

“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.

So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.

“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.

“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”

God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“

“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”

All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.

The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.

Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”

It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,

Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.

“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.

“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”

a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon

most recent masterlist

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[superhoeva]

so happy you liked my "you're soaked, sweetheart" with robby and jack sexting because i really really loved what you wrote you're feeding me some good stuff here love your writing girrrrl. as a thanks: when you wrote about her inviting robby for her weekend with jack i had a vision!!

robby arriving a bit late at her apartment, but he has a spare key, there's some snacks on the living room and tv still on forgotten, but he can hear her moans and jack grunts. when he enters her bedroom he finds jack fucking her from behind, pounding her ass as she begs for more, while he uses the vibrator on her pussy and clit. "finally, her pussy been waiting for you, man."

🤒 just jack fucking her silly while robby finger her dumbly at the same time until she's a crying mess begging to one of them fill her pussy with a dick

ANON YOU'RE KILLING ME BABE <3

tw(s): mmf threesome, m/m kiss (AND WHAT ABOUT IT??), penetrative sex, female pronouns/anatomy used, butt stuff/anal, double penetration (mentioned), bodily fluids, language, dirty talk, bratty!ready, toys (vibrator) spanking (like 1), you got fuck bad bitches at the same damn time like... they're obsessed with you fr. 18+/mdni. (w/c: 1.1k, my bad)

you can barely breathe. jack’s got himself halfway stuffed into your ass, and your body is releasing more air than it’s taking in.

you’re face down, ass up atop the mattress, clenching jack and the covers as he ruts into you with a bit lip from behind.

“fuck, jack. d-don’t stop. please,” you drool out against the sheets beneath you, and jack’s mouth bends with a slight smirk.

“wouldn’t dream of it, gorgeous,” he voices, hands grabbing at your hips with rough palms. his jaw drops a little at the sight of you as he hammers his hips to your’s, much too distracted by the rippling of your ass to notice robby’s and his quirked head at the entrance of the room.

the other man stands frozen, gaze zooming to where you and abbot meet as one. the image flushes his skin with a lingering heat, rattling an echo that shakes all the way down to his cock. robby squirms at the way he starts to chub in his pants, and the floor squeaking under him is what finally gives him away.

flicking his eyes across the room, jack continues his pounding of you with a hello to robby in the form of a jutting chin.

“nice of you to finally join us,” jack winks just as you drag your head from the bed to glance across the room. your eyes twinkle a little when robby’s face melts into a warm grin at you. “pussy’s been waiting on you, man… isn’t that right, baby?”

you nod, completely dazed, with your hands reaching out to call robby further into the room. he floats to you instantly, crawling onto the bed with a grunt to kiss at the lips you pucker his way. pecking you twice, he pulls back to look at the way jack keeps the driving of his cock inside you.

“j, wa–fuck, hold on…”

“thought you didn’t want me to stop?” abbot’s teasing would’ve been funny if you could think straight.

“i-i don’t–it’s just. wanna talk to robby for a sec,” you whine out shakily, but jack doesn’t let up. you groan, throwing your head back face-first into the bed with clenched eyes. robby keeps his giggle silent as he looks over you and abbot, who just grunts through a smirk at your squeeze around him.

“and what am i? chopped liver?”

“jack…”

“fine, doll,” jack huffs a laugh, blowing out a breath as he slows his hips to a smooth stop before popping his cock from your asshole with a hiss. you nearly choke at the sudden emptiness. blinking, you take the second to rub your damp forehead and sniff. 

“hi, mikey,” you finally slur out, popping yourself on your elbows with shaky arms while jack rubs smoothing circles at the small of your back.

“hi, sweetheart,” he coos, unable to resist the urge to kiss you again. “you doin’ okay?”

jack snickers behind you, palming at your cheeks with a greedy grab as you answer.

“mmhm… you’re late, though.”

“i know, ‘m sorry,” robby rubs a delicate hand across your cheek. “got caught up with a few charts, but jack’s been takin’ good care of you yeah?”

you bob your head. drunk on robby’s attention and jack’s heat at your rear.

“always. you forgot his kiss, though… and you’re too dressed,” you pout, causing robby to release a deep chuckle.

“oh, did i?”

sure did, jack mumbles from behind you and robby bends his neck to stare at abbot. the two catch eyes as robby rises from the bed, and you make sure to throw a stare over your shoulder to catch the incoming sight.

��a toasting feeling settles nicely at the pit of your belly when robby plants a hand at the base of jack’s neck and yank him in close, their tongues and lips tangling in a deep snog. they only pull away when they hear the whimper that tumbles from you, jack’s eyes darkening at the sound.

“see something you like?”

your purposefully slow nod earns you a smack on the ass from jack, and robby’s chest rises with an unexpected breath. the air subsequently traps itself when you flick your eyes to him. he wants to groan when you switch on the puppy dog eyes but doesn’t.

“mikey?”

fuck. he can taste the sweet dripping from your tone, and it nearly buckles his knees. jack just laughs at the expression on his face, already knowing that the man was going to break…

aaaand it takes a measly six minutes for jack to be proven right because… he’s always right.

sitting at the head of your bed now, jacks holds your arms tight while you thrash with your back at his chest.

it’s taking everything in him not to grunt any louder than he already is with the way your ass is squeezed back around him–even tighter than before despite the fact that robby pulled the vibrator away already. jack can’t blame you, however, as robby’s switched to slurping a mess at your slit with a tongue that all three of you know he’s a master of working.

you whine and cry through your parted legs and helpless squirm, begging for the men to finally fill the hole that’s been leaking since jack kissed you at the beginning of the evening with a wine-flavored tongue.

“please, mikey,” you plead, eyes rolling at just how full your ass feels with jack’s thickness pulsing inside. “want you inside me, too. wanna feel both of you so bad.”

jack holds your chin, tracing a thumb across the skin as robby flicks his tongue from you with a throat-bobbling swallow. licking his lips, his beard shines slick with your juices as he gazes at you through his.

“want your pussy nice and full, too? hm?”

uh, yeah. yes, what are they not getting? robby pairs the inquiry with a harsh rub to your clit after you sob out a teary yes. he holds you open when your legs try to clench, planting one last dip of his tongue inside your slit before raising to palm at his hard cock. he jerks himself, only sliding the tip inside you before pulling away with a quick look at abbot.

“gotta stretch you first a little, baby,” jack murmurs in your ear, allowing you to sag against him in an understandable sulk. the tiny but ‘m already ready from you makes no difference, and robby’s words hit you with resonance due to the two fingers he slips inside you while speaking.

“that’s what you said last time, angel, ended up having to call off from a shift last time you took both of us, remember?”

“well, it’s not my fault your dicks are so big…”

your sass is immediately met with a subtle shuffle of jack, and you wail at how his cock shifts inside you. robby flicks his stare from the way you pussy devours his fingers to your face, his eyebrows raised and voice raspy in a knowing warning.

“keep it up and you’ll make him make me just finish you off that vibrator over there…”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Thank you for coming with us, Mal.

Malleus: There is no need to mention it, child of man. I am equally curious to meet your spouses.

MC: *chuckles*

Luke: *stares suspiciously at Malleus*

Malleus: Hm? Is there something on my face?

Luke: ...

Luke: You. Are you sure you're not a demon?

Malleus: Demon?

MC: Ah, well, we have demons in the Devildom, and they have horns like yours.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Pardon?

MC: *worried frown*

Malleus: ...

Luke: What's taking them so long?

MC: ...

Malleus: Child of man, is it not getting late? It is already past the time you mentioned.

MC: Did something happen...

"It's true! Haha! You are really here!"

"Careful, young master."

MC and Luke: ...

Luke: Wait. Those voices—

*Diavolo and Barbatos emerged from the Dark Mirror in their demon forms, appearing before MC, Luke, and Malleus.*

MC: Dia—

Diavolo: *hugs them*

MC: *blinks in confusion*

Malleus: ...

Luke: Barbatos!

Barbatos: *smiles* Hello, Luke. It’s good to see you doing well.

Ace, Deuce, Epel, Malleus, Lilia, and Trey: ...

Ace: Dang.

Deuce: Oi, Ace. Quit staring.

Ace: They're hypnotizing. *was staring at Dia's chest*

Epel: Bitch— They're fucking covered! What's wrong with you?

Lilia: *is impressed* MC! *chuckles*

MC: ?

Luke: Lord Diavolo! You still haven’t explained why you and Barbatos came here instead of Solomon and Simeon! Did something happen to them?!

Diavolo: *chuckles* No, nothing happened. It's just that Simeon was suddenly summoned back to the Celestial Realm, while Solomon, on the other hand, was kidnapped by Lucifer and his brothers.

Luke: ...Poor Solomon.

MC: Looks like there's something more to that...

Barbatos: You're right. To be honest, the young master and I came here to test a hypothesis.

Trey: A hypothesis?

Barbatos: *looks at him*

Trey: Oh, sorry. I'm just curious. Haha...

Barbatos: Do not worry. Feel free to listen. As I was saying, prior to our arrival and that of the young master, Lucifer and Satan attempted to cross dimensions but were unsuccessful. Solomon then speculated that demons might not be able to pass through, but given that we succeeded…

MC: I see... so that's the case...

Malleus: Can you please elaborate?

MC: I'm sure you've already heard that, in my world, I made pacts with seven powerful demons. Based on what Barbatos just mentioned, they were unable to get through because of my connection with them.

Deuce: Um... But aren't they part of the seven?

MC: *smiles* No. Diavolo is a demon prince, the sole heir to the throne, and Barbatos is a superior demon who has pledged his loyalty to Diavolo.

MC: Given those circumstances, I can't, and out of respect, I won't.

Ace and the others: ...

Ace: Wait a damn minute— Did you say "prince"?

[syrupfog]

The Straw Hats don’t have a cook. 

They’re starting to think of it as a bit of a cursed position, really. No one they’ve picked up has lasted longer than an island before declaring they can’t deal with Luffy’s stomach and running off. 

Luffy’s a bit put out about it.

On the first half of the grand line, they went through about seven cooks. After Saboady, they briefly had Camie, although she made a lot of takoyaki. 

They carried Law with them from Punk Hazard to Dressrosa to Zou to Wano, and he made a LOT of onigiri.

It was delicious, but did get a bit old after a while. And he was never meant to stay, after all. 

After Kaido’s defeat and the subsequent party in Wano, they leave Law behind and are once again cook-less. 

But Luffy has a plan. It’s a plan that Zoro rolls his eyes at, but a plan nonetheless.

Jinbei had explained Big Mom’s intense love of sweets, and the island’s name — Whole Cake — is a promising one. Luffy is convinced they’ll be able to find their cook there. 

Zoro isn’t so sure. Cooks and bakers aren’t the same thing, and he’d be loathe to let a *baker* on the crew.

If he has to eat SWEETS for every meal, he’s going to lose it. Absolutely not. 

But he doesn’t argue with Luffy, because there’s never been a point in arguing with Luffy. It’ll either happen or it won’t, after all.

They arrive at Whole Cake and it’s… a terrifying experience. Everything has faces. Everything is SMILING. Zoro scowls, just to be contrary. 

Luffy wants to walk right up to Big Mom and demand a fight, but that’s easier said than done.

They end up in town, all eight of them, squished together in a little bakery with a sweet-as-honey baker who calls herself Pudding. “

That’s it!” Luffy tells after his first taste of pie. “You’ll be our cook!” 

Pudding blinks, and then titters a laugh. “Silly!” she says. “I can’t!”

“Why not?” Luffy asks with a scowl that matches Zoro’s. Zoro hasn’t touched the pie. He’s glad Pudding isn’t entertaining this.

Pudding waves her hand. “I have a business to run!” she giggles. “And besides, I’m married!” 

A large diamond ring glints on her finger. Luffy sinks back into his dessert.

“Fine,” he pouts. “We’ll find somebody else.” 

They do not, in fact, find anyone else. 

Mostly it’s excuses about not wanting to leave Big Mom. They’ve not seen her yet, but Zoro gets the feeling she’s a bit of a bitch.

He also hasn’t found anyone who will cook a steak rather than a pastry, which is getting a little old. 

Nami BEGS Luffy to use at least an ounce of discretion, and he pays no notice (after all, he’s already defeated Kaido, what’s one more emperor?) and walks right up to the front door of the castle.

To everyone’s shock (except Luffy’s), they’re greeted by a guard and escorted right inside. 

EVERYTHING. Has. A face. 

Zoro hates this place. 

He hates this whole island but he especially hates this place. 

He’s so busy hating this place that he completely doesn’t notice when everyone disappears.

(That’s definitely what happens— it’s definitely not that he takes a wrong turn and gets separated). 

He wanders through halls and up stairs and through more halls with skittering servants passing him by, plates piled high with (ugh) sweets. Gods above, where IS everyone?

Finally, after what must be the fifth set of stairs, Zoro finds himself at a dead end. A hallway that ends with a door with heavy bars across it. 

Well that must be it, Zoro thinks, if for no other reason than that it’s the most interesting thing he’s come across and it doesn’t have a FACE.

He takes out all three swords. 

The door is sturdy, but it’s not three swords sturdy. 

“Hello?” Zoro calls as he steps into the room. “Guys?” 

The room is dark. It’s sparse in decoration. There’s a bed and a dresser and a wash basin and a small high window, barred the way the door was. 

And a man.

“You’re not Luffy,” Zoro growls, unsheathing two of his swords almost immediately after sheathing them. 

The man regards him with cool indifference. His blond hair is long and stringy, falling just past his shoulders and covering one eye.

His clearly once white suit is tinged with dirt and spatters of rusty red. 

There is a hole in the middle of his forehead, with a slow trickle of blood seeping from it. 

“I’m not Luffy,” the man agrees. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Roronoa Zoro,” Zoro says. “My captain’s going to be king of the pirates.”

The man sighs. “Sure he will,” he says. He doesn’t bother to try to wipe at the blood seeping down his face. 

“You… going to do something about that?” Zoro asks. It’s gross. 

“No,” the man says. “It just does that. There’s a bullet somewhere in there.”

Zoro narrows his eyes. “You’ve been… shot?”

“Quite a while ago, yes.” 

“But you’re not… how long ago?” 

The man tilts his head. “Two months? Three? Time gets way from you when you’re locked in a room.” 

Ohhh right. The barred door. “Are you Big Mom’s prisoner?”

The man frowns slightly. “I’m honestly not entirely sure. I get the feeling that I am a sort of pet, at this point. Or maybe a prisoner. She can’t seem to figure out how to kill me.” 

“Why is she TRYING to kill too?” Zoro asks. He doesn’t like when people aren’t straightforward.

“Oh,” the man says. “I’m her son-in-law. My wife shot me at the altar and then they murdered my family.” He does reach up now, touching at the blood between his eyes. “The healing genes activated a bit late, I think.” 

Zoro nods. He has no idea what’s happening. “So you’re… enemies? Or family?”

The man looks back at him. There’s an emptiness in his eyes. “I think maybe both,” he says. “Isn’t that how it always is, with families?” 

“Wouldn’t know,” Zoro says. “Maybe.” He sheathes his swords and stands straight. “Hey, what’s your name?” 

“Charlotte Sanji,” says the man.

“Alright Sanji,” Zoro says. “You know the way to the throne room?” 

“Not at all,” says Sanji. “Never been there.” 

Zoro shrugs. “Me neither. Let’s go.”

Considering he’s never been there before, Sanji does make quick work of finding the throne room. Zoro figures it might be from all the explosions, though. Even HE could find it at this rate. 

There’s a battle going on in the throne room.

“THERE you are,” Nami snaps. She seems to be strangling a cloud with her bare hands. The cloud has a face. 

“Yeah,” Zoro says, drawing his swords. “Hey, I found a guy.” 

“Cool, how does that help us?” 

Zoro motions to Sanji. “He’s her son in law.” 

“Again,” Nami snaps. “HOW does that help us?”

“Just— watch him for a minute, okay?” He looks at Sanji. “Stay here.” 

Sanji shrugs. 

Zoro goes running into the fray. There’s lots of very tall colorful people with candy weapons but Zoro can see where Luffy’s already in Gear 4. 

“Luffy!” Zoro yells. 

“Zoro, we found you!” Luffy yells.

“No you didn’t!” 

Luffy laughs. “Okay! Whatever!” 

Big Mom doesn’t seem to care for this conversation. “Are you FIGHTING ME OR NOT?” She shouts, eyes roaming over Luffy and then Zoro and then— “Oh no, who let the little freak out?”

“I did!” Zoro shouted. Franky goes skidding by as he fires a missile launcher. 

“Ugh! Little creep! I can’t take life from him because he doesn’t have EMOTIONS! Won’t die either! Worst son in law I have.” 

“No emotions?” Luffy skids to a stop. “Is he a robot? I’ve always wanted a robot.”

He scans the crowd. “Zoro, where’s the robot?” 

“Blond guy next to Nami,” Zoro says. He kind of cares about the guy. He’s not sure why. “Chopper should take a look at him later. He keeps bleeding.” 

“Hahaha! That’s funny, me too!”

The battle against Big Mom is a lot more straight forward than against Kaido. A lot faster too, honestly. Zoro gets to lose himself in fighting, feeling that aching burn on his muscles that he loves so much. Right up until the only ones still exchanging blows are Luffy and Big Mom.

He hasn’t even pulled out that weird all white form everyone at Wano talked about yet, so Zoro feels pretty confident. Right up until one of Big Mom’s attacks misses Luffy and ends up aimed straight at Nami. 

Zoro doesn’t have time to get to her. Neither does anyone else.

Except Sanji. 

Who steps in front of her, taking the bulk of a thunderbolt to the chest. He falls to his knees with a cry, his face a mix of pain and… almost confusion. But when Nami runs to him, he holds a hand out to stop her, and looks up at Big Mom.

���I won’t let a lady get hurt,” he says, still looking almost confused as he says it, blood dripping slightly more profusely from his forehead. 

“Dork,” Zoro says under his breath at the same time as Luffy says, “Cool.”

When the fight is over, Big Mom collapses as the homes escape from her like baby spiders from a broken egg sac. Zoro PRAYS there’s SOMETHING besides sweets on this godforsaken island for them to celebrate with. 

“Chopper,” he says as Chopper comes running with his med kit. “Check that guy out too.”

Choppy turns to Sanji, sitting on the ground and still rather smouldering from the lightning, and he screams. “Oh NO! You’ve been SHOT!” 

Zoro nods. He just lets that happen. He goes in search of booze.

He doesn’t see Sanji again until the feast. 

The feast is still MOSTLY sweets but Luffy at least has gotten ahold of some real Meat so Zoro sidles up to him and he realises that Sanji’s there on his other side. 

“Zoro!” Luffy shouts. “Sanji says he’s a cook!”

Zoro scoffs. That’s what they all say. 

“I told him to come with us!” 

Zoro raises an eyebrow, looking around Luffy at Sanji, who sports a large bandage over his forehead. “And what did he say?” 

Sanji looks at him. “I said he has terrible decision making skills.”

“So that’s a yes, I take it.” 

Sanji shrugs. “My family’s dead, my mother in law is dead, and my wife shot me in the forehead. Your reindeer pulled the bullet out of my brain.” 

“Gross.” 

“He thinks I need therapy.” 

“Probably.”

Zoro doesn’t trust a lot of people. He thinks probably someone should figure out why this guy’s wife shot him. But he’s also the one who dragged the sad sack out of his tower room. And he thinks there’s something hot about a man who won’t stop bleeding. So. 

“You can cook more than sweets, right?”

“I was a sous chef. Once.” 

“Good enough for me.”

He sticks a little close to Sanji during the rest of their stay on Whole Cake. Just to make sure he’s not about turn tail. And also because he’s Zoro’s type, even when his forehead does stop bleeding.

And that’s why, when they get onto the Sunny, Zoro’s able to pick up on the small way Sanji’s expression shifts. Relaxes. As he steps on board the ship. 

The small smile that graces his features when they set off from shore. 

The way his eyes light up ever so slightly when he walks into the kitchen.

All that is nothing compared to the expression on his face six months later when Luffy cracks the Red Line in half and all the seas flow together.

But Zoro’s not to know that, yet. 

All he knows is there’s something that he feels like he’s missed out on, with this guy. That somehow Sanji should’ve been here from the beginning. 

But at least he’s here now.

[marscardigan]

what is this feeling?

roomate!ellie x fem!reader

main masterlist

summary: college au. you and ellie disliked each other since the beginning. the director has to do something about it when your mutual hatred goes too far.

word count: 5k

cw: based off of the song what is this feeling? from the musical wicked. no use of y/n. reader is kind of a bitch.

The semester was almost over when Ellie arrived at Jackson University. She stood at the doorway of her new dorm room, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. It looked like a tornado had hit—if tornados were made of textbooks, potted plants, and tons of clothes. Every available surface was covered in something, from open notebooks stacked on the desk to an overflowing laundry basket by the bed.

Correction: by her bed.

Posters of pop stars she’d never heard of were plastered on the walls. A lumpy quilt, clearly handmade, was tangled on the left mattress. The right side was a mountain of stuff: books, hats, and bags.

"Uh, hello?" she called out, knocking on the open door frame.

From behind the closet door, a voice called her out, "Just a sec!"

Ellie waited, impatient. She already didn’t want to be here—new school, new roommate, new everything. And now this.

The closet door swung open, and you stepped out, flicking your hair over your shoulder. Your eyes scanned Ellie from head to toe, lingering on her wrinkled flannel and scuffed pair of Converse. One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. "You’re the new roommate?"

Ellie crossed her arms. "Yeah. Ellie."

You turned on your heel, stepping over a pile of textbooks as you moved toward your bed—Ellie’s bed, technically. You looked over your shoulder, eyes gleaming. "I would’ve made room for you, but they told me you weren’t coming until next semester."

Ellie glanced around at the chaos. "Looks like you decided to spread out anyway."

You shrugged, not a hint of apology in your tone. "Well, I had the place to myself. Can you blame me?" You waved a manicured hand at the pile of clothes on her mattress. "I suppose I could clear some of that. Eventually."

Ellie’s jaw clenched. "Or, you could do it now."

You blinked, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. But then your smile widened, dazzling and sharp. "Wow. Someone’s feisty." You leaned against the shared desk, eyes never leaving Ellie’s. "Tell you what—since you’re here early and all, why don’t you help me? After all, it’s your stuff in the way."

Ellie’s eyes darkened. "My stuff?"

"It’s your bed, isn’t it?"

Ellie opened her mouth to retort, but you were already moving, "There. Now you’ve got space."

This was going to be a long semester.

Ellie quickly learned that living with you was like being in the middle of a hurricane—one with nice hair and a perfectly sharp tongue.

It started with the little things. Like the way you always seemed to be on the phone, laughing with friends Ellie hadn’t met and probably wouldn’t like.

But then it got personal.

"Are you sure you’re a sophomore?" you asked one morning, leaning against the closet door as she tied her converse. "Because I could’ve sworn they stopped letting high schoolers in here."

Ellie didn’t look up, "Funny. I was just wondering if you were majoring in Fashion Police."

You tilted your head, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Nope. But if I were, you’d be failing." You gave her a once-over, taking in the faded band tee and worn jeans. "Like, spectacularly."

Ellie’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone flat. "Yeah, well, not all of us have trust funds to blow on overpriced rags."

Your smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes. Annoyance, maybe. Ellie counted that as a win.

At lunch the next week, Ellie trudged into the cafeteria, exhausted after her back-to-back lectures. She grabbed a tray, mind already on the paper she needed to finish, when she heard a voice carry across the room.

"I really don't know how you do it, like, genuinely. How do you stand her? I don't think I could."

That was another thing. You had everyone wrapped around your finger. Everywhere you went, you were surrounded by people—laughing, smiling, clinging to your every word. It didn’t matter that you were the most infuriating person Ellie had ever met. You were popular. And you were aware of it.

"Well, at least she doesn’t occupy much storage in the closet," you replied, your voice light and casual, but loud enough for Ellie to hear. "It’s an advantage of having only two jeans and three shirts, right?"

Your friends laughed, their voices echoing off the cafeteria walls. Another girl added, "Well, we are on your side!"

Ellie’s grip tightened on her tray. Two could play at this game.

She crossed the room without hesitation, sliding into the seat across from you. Your eyes widened in surprise, just for a second, before you composed yourself, flashing that perfect smile of yours.

"Aw, don’t stop on my account," Ellie said, setting her tray down with a thud. "I was just wondering how you manage to talk so much without actually saying anything."

Your smile didn’t falter, but your eyes sharpened. "Just making conversation. Sorry if that’s new for you."

"Right. Must be exhausting, carrying that much air in your head all day."

You blinked, clearly not expecting her to bite back that hard. But you recovered quickly, tilting your head. "Oh, that’s cute. I didn’t know sarcasm was a personality trait now."

Ellie’s smirk widened. "I didn’t know lip gloss was either, but here we are."

Your jaw tightened, but your voice remained sugar-sweet. "Wow, it must be nice to not care about how you look. I mean, it really shows."

Ellie shrugged. "At least when people look at me, they don’t get blinded by glitter."

You huffed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "It’s called style. You should try it sometime."

Ellie leaned in, her eyes locked on yours. "Thanks, but I don’t need to dress like a Barbie to have people listen to me."

Your cheeks flushed, and for a moment, Ellie saw the crack in your perfect facade. But then you plastered on that brilliant smile, leaning forward as well with an infuriatingly calm expression. "You know, it’s really brave of you to act this tough when everyone knows you’re just some charity case they let in out of pity."

Time froze. Ellie’s face went blank, her hands tightening around her fork.

You tilted your head, voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Oh, did I strike a nerve? Sorry, I just assumed you knew. You do stick out like a sore thumb."

Ellie didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate. She picked up her tray, mashed potatoes and all, and flung it at you.

Your gasp was drowned out by the collective 'Oh!' from your friends. Mashed potatoes splattered across your top, dripping down your perfectly styled hair.

For a moment, you sat there, frozen, eyes wide with shock. But then fury flashed across your face, and you grabbed your own tray. Without a word, you hurled it at Ellie.

She barely dodged as spaghetti sauce splattered across her shirt, a noodle dangling from her hair. Her eyes widened before narrowing dangerously. "Oh, it’s so on."

The cafeteria erupted into chaos as food started flying. You launched a cup of pudding, and Ellie retaliated with a handful of peas. Someone screamed as a slice of pizza soared through the air, narrowly missing them. Laughter and shouts echoed off the walls as tables were overturned, students ducking for cover.

You lunged for a bowl of salad, but Ellie was faster, smearing dressing down your arm. "You’re gonna pay for that!" you shouted, grabbing a carton of milk and pouring it over her head.

Ellie sputtered, wiping it from her eyes. "You’re dead." She grabbed a roll and chucked it at you, hitting you square in the forehead.

Before either of you could escalate further, a voice boomed through the cafeteria. "ENOUGH!"

The room fell silent, heads whipping around to see Director Miller standing at the entrance, arms crossed, jaw clenched. His eyes were blazing as he took in the scene—the overturned tables, food-splattered walls, and you and Ellie, standing in the middle of the carnage, covered head to toe in cafeteria slop.

His gaze locked on you, then shifted to Ellie. "My office. Now."

Ellie swallowed, her anger giving way to a sinking feeling in her stomach. You looked just as stunned, mouth slightly open as you tried to brush mashed potatoes off your jeans.

"Move it," Director Miller barked, turning on his heel and marching out of the cafeteria.

Ellie shot you a glare. "This is your fault."

You scowled back, cheeks flushed. "Excuse me? You started it!"

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah? Well, I’m gonna finish it."

You opened your mouth to retort, but Director Miller’s voice echoed from the hallway. "Now!"

With one last death glare, you turned on your heel, marching out of the cafeteria with your head held high, even with spaghetti sauce dripping down your back.

Ellie followed, grumbling under her breath as she flicked a noodle off her sleeve. This was not how she’d planned on spending her afternoon.

But as she watched you try to wipe pudding off your designer handbag, she couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips. Maybe this wasn’t that bad after all.

Director Miller’s office was colder than Ellie expected. The walls were bare except for a single clock ticking ominously above his desk, and a picture of him and her daughter. It felt like a judge’s chamber—appropriate, considering the scowl on his face as he stood behind his chair, arms crossed.

You sat rigidly in the chair beside Ellie, arms crossed so tightly over your chest that mashed potatoes were flaking off your sleeve. Your hair was a tangled, sticky mess, strands stiff with gravy and milk. Ellie didn’t look much better, her shirt stained with spaghetti sauce, some noodles still clinging to her shoulder.

Director Miller let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing. "You two care to explain why my cafeteria looks like a war zone?"

Neither of you spoke. Ellie’s jaw was clenched so tightly her teeth ached. She wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

When neither of you answered, he shook his head. "Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be adults. College students. Yet you acted like a couple of toddlers throwing a tantrum." His eyes flicked between you two, the intensity of his glare enough to make you look down.

"I don’t care who started it," he continued, his voice dangerously calm. "What I care about is the fact that half the student body had to duck for cover because you two decided to turn lunch into a food fight."

Ellie’s fingers dug into the armrest, her eyes fixed on the floor. She could feel your presence beside her, a tense ball of anger and humiliation. She refused to look at you. Not after what you said.

Director Miller’s eyes narrowed. "Clearly, you two have issues to work out. And since you obviously can’t do that like adults, we’re going to try something else."

You finally looked up, eyes widening in suspicion. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Director Miller started, leaning on his desk, "you’re going to sit here and say three nice things about each other."

Ellie’s head snapped up. "You can’t be serious."

Your mouth fell open, eyes flashing with indignation. "That’s… that’s ridiculous!"

Director Miller’s lips twitched, but he kept his composure. "Oh, I’m dead serious. You’re not leaving this office until I hear three sincere compliments from each of you." He straightened, brushing off his jacket. "I’ll give you ten minutes to figure it out."

You sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. "And if we don’t?"

Director Miller’s gaze was steely. "Then you’ll spend the rest of the day cleaning every inch of that cafeteria. Floors, tables, walls—every last drop of food you threw."

Ellie felt her stomach drop. She remembered the chaos, the mess splattered across every surface. It would take hours to clean up.

Director Miller looked at his watch. "I’ll be back in ten minutes. If I don’t hear six sincere compliments, you better be ready to scrub."

He turned on his heel, leaving the office without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you and Ellie in heavy, awkward silence.

Ellie’s fists tightened, her eyes fixed on the clock. Ten minutes. Ten minutes to find something—anything—nice to say about you. Her mouth twisted in distaste. She’d rather swallow glass.

You sighed loudly, leaning back in your chair with a dramatic huff. "This is so stupid."

Ellie shot you a glare. "Yeah? Well, it’s your fault we’re here in the first place."

Your head whipped around, eyes blazing. "My fault? You threw food first!"

"You insulted me first!" Ellie snapped, turning to fully face you for the first time. "You think I didn’t hear what you said? Calling me a charity case? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Your face fell for a fraction of a second before you recovered, scoffing. "Oh, get over it. I was just stating facts."

Ellie’s eyes narrowed. "You don’t know anything about me."

"I know you’re infuriating," you shot back, "you act like you’re better than everyone just because you don’t care about fitting in."

Ellie let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, because fitting in with you and your pack of clones sounds like so much fun."

You bristled, your eyes flashing. "You’re impossible. No wonder you don’t have any friends."

Ellie’s chest tightened, the words hitting harder than she wanted to admit. But she kept her face neutral, her voice cold. "I’d rather have no friends than fake ones, honestly."

Your mouth opened, then snapped shut, eyes dropping to your lap. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The clock ticked loudly above, each second a heavy reminder of your shrinking time limit.

Ellie let out a slow breath, running a hand through her hair—then grimacing as her fingers got stuck in the sticky mess. "Okay," she muttered. "Three nice things. Let’s just get this over with."

She glanced at the clock again, heart sinking. Eight minutes left.

Before she could speak, you let out a dramatic sigh, slumping back in your chair. "Alright, I’ll go first. I don’t want to be here all day."

Ellie looked at you, "Fine. Let’s hear it, then."

You opened your mouth, then closed it, eyes narrowing. It was clear you were struggling. Ellie almost smirked. Good. At least she wasn’t the only one who found this torture.

Finally, you looked away, your voice lower than usual. "I… I think you’re really good at drawing."

Ellie’s eyes widened. "What?"

You rolled your eyes. "You heard me. You’re… great, okay? I saw your sketchbook the other day." You shifted in your seat, clearly uncomfortable. "The way you draw people is… impressive."

Ellie stared at you, suspicion flaring in her chest. "Are you being serious right now?"

Your head snapped toward her, eyes blazing. "Yes, I’m serious! God, this is exactly why I didn’t want to go first. You can’t even take a compliment without making it weird."

Ellie’s mouth opened, then shut. She blinked at you, still processing the fact that you—you, of all people—had just complimented her art. Her sketchbook was one of the few things she actually cared about, something she kept private, hidden from judgmental eyes. The fact that you saw it, and didn’t make fun of it… It threw her off balance.

Her fingers drummed on the armrest, nerves prickling under her skin. "I didn’t know you… noticed."

You shrugged, suddenly fascinated with a stain on your jeans. "Well, I did. You’re talented. It’s annoying."

Ellie let out a short laugh. "Right. Sorry for being good at something."

You huffed, but there was no real anger behind it. "Yeah, well… don’t let it get to your head."

A small smile tugged at Ellie’s lips, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to ease. She shifted in her chair, her heart beating just a little faster. This was weird. But… not terrible.

She took a breath, forcing herself to speak before she could chicken out. "You’re… actually pretty smart."

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. "Huh?"

Ellie looked away, her cheeks warming. "I mean, you act all superficial and, like, too cool to care. But I’ve seen you in class. You’re always taking notes, and you actually get the material. Like, that essay you wrote for English? It was… good." She cleared her throat, refusing to meet your eyes. "I mean, for someone who spends so much time gossiping, you actually have a brain. Who knew?"

You gaped at her, clearly taken off guard. "You… read my essay?"

Ellie shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Yeah. The professor used it as an example, remember? I figured it’d be stupid, but it wasn’t."

Your cheeks flushed, and for a moment, you looked… shy. "Oh. I didn’t think you paid attention."

Ellie rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, well… I did."

Silence settled again, but this time, it felt different. Lighter. Like the air wasn’t as thick with resentment.

You cleared your throat, fidgeting with your hair. "I, um… I saw you playing guitar the other day. Outside the dorm."

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. "You were spying on me?"

Your eyes narrowed. "No! No, I was just… passing by. You weren’t exactly being quiet." You hesitated, voice softening. "You’re good at that too. I didn’t know you could sing."

Ellie’s face warmed. "Oh. Uh… thanks." She shifted in her chair. "I’ve been playing since I was a kid."

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your lap. "I always wanted to learn. I-uh… my ex was supposed to teach me, but it never happened."

Ellie’s chest tightened. "Your… ex?"

You nodded, your voice oddly quiet. "Yeah. She had a guitar, but she never got around to showing me how to play."

Ellie’s mouth went dry. She opened her mouth, then closed it, her cheeks heating up. She. You dated girls. You had an ex-girlfriend.

She was suddenly aware of how fast her heart was beating, her mind racing with a million questions she couldn’t ask. Her gaze flicked to you, noticing how your shoulders were slightly hunched, your fingers nervously twisting in your lap.

You looked… vulnerable. Sad, even. It was weird, seeing you like this—seeing you as a person, not just the stuck-up princess who made her life hell.

Ellie swallowed, her voice coming out softer than she intended. "I… I could teach you. If you want."

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "What?"

Ellie looked away, scratching the back of her neck. "I mean, I’m not, like, a pro or anything. But I could show you the basics. If… you’re serious about learning."

You stared at her, mouth slightly open. "You… you’d do that?"

Ellie shrugged, fighting to keep her voice casual. "Yeah. I mean, it’s not a big deal. Better than you bugging me about my closet space all the time."

Your lips twitched, a small smile breaking through. "I don’t bug you about your closet space that much."

Ellie snorted. "Yeah, right."She risked a glance at you, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the genuine smile on your face. "So… is that compliment number two?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice in it. "Fine. I like that you can play guitar. And… that you offered to teach me." You hesitated, voice softening. "That was… nice of you."

She looked down, trying to hide her smile. "Yeah, well… don’t get used to it."

You laughed—a real laugh. It was the first time Ellie had heard it, and it did something weird to her stomach.

She looked at the clock, realizing only three minutes had passed. But for the first time since she’d met you, she didn’t mind the thought of being stuck here a little longer.

Before you two knew it, you were back at the hall. Your friends were lounging in the common area, laughing loudly. You looked at them, your expression faltering for just a second before you turned to Ellie. "I… guess I’ll see you around?"

Ellie’s stomach did a weird flip, and she nodded. "Yeah. Sure." She hesitated, then added, "You know… if you still want to learn guitar, I… I meant what I said, too. I could show you sometime."

Your eyes widened, a flash of surprise crossing your face. "Oh. Um… yeah. I’d like that." You gave her another small smile, then turned, heading toward your friends. But you didn’t go to them right away. You hesitated, glancing back at Ellie before finally joining them, your posture just a little stiffer than usual.

Ellie watched you go, her heart doing that stupid flip again. She shook her head, heading up the stairs to your room. Her room. Your shared room.

She was halfway up the stairs when she heard your friends’ voices.

"Oh my God, did you seriously got detention for fighting with her?"

"What were you thinking? She’s such a loser."

Ellie’s fists clenched, her shoulders tensing. But before she could storm back down, she heard your voice—quiet, but firm. "Yeah, well… maybe she’s not as bad as you think."

A stunned silence followed, then one of your friends scoffed. "Ugh, you’re joking, right?" You didn’t answer.

Ellie felt her chest tighten, her grip on the railing loosening. She turned, heading up the stairs, her mind spinning.

Maybe… maybe you weren’t as bad as she thought either.

Days passed, and the tension in the dorm room slowly began to fade. It wasn’t like you and Ellie were suddenly best friends or anything, but the insults were less sharp, the glares less frequent. Sometimes, you even managed to have a conversation without throwing a shoe to her direction.

It started small. Polite nods when you crossed paths in the hallway. A quiet 'bless you' when Ellie sneezed. A muttered 'thanks' when she held the door open for you. Little things that weren’t a big deal on their own, but together, they started to chip away at the wall between you.

And then, there was the guitar.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the sun was spilling through the dorm window, casting lazy patterns on the floor. Ellie was sprawled on her bed, strumming absentmindedly, lost in the music. You were at your desk, pretending to study, but your eyes kept flicking to her, watching her fingers dance over the strings.

You chewed your lip, debating with yourself before finally blurting out, "Can you show me?"

Ellie looked up, blinking. "Huh?"

You nodded toward the guitar. "You… you said you’d teach me. If you’re not too busy."

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Uh… yeah, sure." She sat up, scooting over to make room on the bed. "C’mere."

You hesitated, glancing at her bed like it was dangerous territory. Then you shook off the nerves and sat down, careful to leave a few inches of space between you.

Ellie handed you the guitar, her fingers brushing yours for half a second. You both froze, the air suddenly feeling warmer. Then she cleared her throat, leaning back. "Okay, so… this is a G chord. You put your fingers here… and here…"

You tried to mimic her, your fingers fumbling on the strings. It was awkward, and the sound that came out was more of a croak than a chord. You winced. "Wow. I’m terrible at this."

Ellie laughed, and that itself made something flutter in your chest. "Nah, that’s normal. It’s weird at first." She reached over, her fingers adjusting yours on the frets. "Here, like this."

Her hand was warm, her touch gentle. You swallowed, trying to ignore how close she was. "Oh. That’s… better."

Ellie’s voice was softer now. "Yeah. Try strumming it again."

You did, and this time, the sound was smoother, less jarring. A real chord. You looked up, grinning. "I did it!"

Ellie’s eyes sparkled, a smile breaking across her face. "Yeah, you sure did." She looked proud, and you felt a warm glow in your chest.

After that, the lessons became more frequent. Sometimes in the afternoon, when your friends were busy gossiping without you. Sometimes late at night, when the campus was quiet, and the only sound was Ellie’s guitar and your whispered laughter.

You started spending less time in the cafeteria, less time listening to your friends’ endless chatter about the latest parties and shallow drama. You still dressed the same—perfectly styled hair, cute skirts, flawless makeup—but now, it felt more like a choice and less like a costume. You wore what you wanted, not what your friends expected.

And somehow, even though you were seeing your so-called friends less and less, you didn’t feel lonely. Not when you had Ellie strumming her guitar beside you, laughing at your jokes, teasing you when your fingers fumbled.

One afternoon, as you were practicing chords, Ellie looked at you, her gaze lingering. "You’re getting better, you know."

You smiled, glancing down at your fingers. "You think so?"

Ellie’s voice was soft. "Yeah. I do."

Your heart did that stupid fluttering thing, and you looked away, pretending to adjust the guitar strap. "Well, I’ve got a good teacher."

Ellie’s cheeks tinged pink, and she looked down, a smile playing at her lips. "Yeah, well… don’t get used to the compliments."

You laughed, your shoulder brushing hers. You didn’t pull away. She didn't, either.

It happened slowly at first. Missed texts, unanswered calls. You would walk up to your usual table in the cafeteria, only to find your friends turning away, their laughter falling silent. It was subtle, but it was there—a cold shoulder, a whisper behind your back.

At first, you tried to brush it off. Maybe they were just busy. Maybe you were imagining it. But then the rumors started.

"She’s changed. Thinks she’s too good for us now."

"Have you seen her with that new girl? What’s her name? Ella? Freaks, both of them."

"Ugh, she’s so desperate. No wonder she hangs out with her."

You tried to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t bother you. But it did. It hurt. Especially because it was coming from people who were supposed to be your friends.

One afternoon, you walked into the cafeteria, tray in hand, heading to your usual spot. But when you got there, the table was full—every seat taken. You stood there, feeling exposed, your face heating up as they all looked at you with blank, uninterested stares.

"Oh," you said, forcing a smile. "I… didn’t realize the table was full."

One of the girls looked you up and down, her nose wrinkling. "Yeah, funny how that happens. Maybe there’s a seat somewhere else?"

Your heart sank, but you kept the fake smile plastered on your face. "Right. Of course. I’ll… see you later." You turned, your vision blurring. You could feel their eyes on you, hear the giggles as you walked away.

You didn’t know where else to go, so you went back to the dorm, your footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. You unlocked the door, shoulders slumping as you stepped inside.

Ellie was there, sitting cross-legged on her bed, a book resting on her knees. She looked up, surprised. "Hey. You’re back early."

You froze, your hand still on the doorknob. For a moment, you wanted to turn around and leave, to go anywhere else. But then Ellie’s expression softened, concern flickering in her eyes. "You okay?"

You swallowed, "Yeah. I just… wasn’t hungry."

Ellie frowned, closing her book and setting it aside. "You sure?" Her voice was gentle. "Because… you look like you’re about to cry."

"I’m fine." But your voice wavered, and you looked away, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

Ellie stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "No you're not," she said softly. "what happened?"

You shook your head. "They… they laughed at me. My friends. Or-uh… I guess they’re not my friends anymore." Your voice cracked, and a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I… I know it’s because of me. They don’t like me, and now they’re taking it out on you. I didn’t want that to happen."

Your vision was blurry with tears. "It’s not your fault. They were never real friends. They only liked me when I was pretending to be someone I’'m not." You took a shaky breath, your hands trembling. "I just… I didn’t think it would hurt this much."

Ellie’s jaw clenched, "They’re idiots. They don’t know you. Not the real you."

Your heart skipped, and you looked at her, vulnerable and raw. "Who does, huh?"

Ellie’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I do."

She hesitated, her eyes searching yours. "I… I see you. The real you. And… I like who you are. Even when you’re bossy and mean." She cracked a small smile. "Maybe especially then."

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your tears. "You’re an idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah. I’ve been told." Her voice turned serious. "I’m… glad I met you. Even if we wanted to kill each other at first."

Your pulse was racing. "Yeah. Me too." You took a shaky breath, your eyes dropping to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. "Ellie…"

She went still, her eyes widening as she realized how close you were standing. "Yeah?"

You took a step closer, your breath catching as your faces were just inches apart. "Can I…?"

Ellie’s eyes were wide, her lips parted. "Yeah," she breathed. "please."

You didn’t need any more encouragement. You leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips met hers.

It was soft, tentative, your heart racing as you kissed her. Her lips were warm, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her fingers gentle against your skin. You let out a shaky breath, melting into her, your hands gripping her grey hoodie as you pulled her closer.

Ellie made a small noise of surprise, then she was kissing you back, her lips moving against yours, soft and sweet and perfect. Your heart was soaring, your chest tight with emotion. You had never felt like this before—so vulnerable and exposed, but also safe and alive.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads touching, your eyes still closed. Ellie let out a soft laugh, her breath warm against your lips. "Wow."

You laughed, "Yeah. Wow." You opened your eyes, looking at her. "Ellie… I…"

Ellie smiled, "I know. Me too."

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, "So… what now?"

Ellie grinned, her fingers still brushing your cheek. "Well… You haven’t eaten, right? Want to get takeout and… I don’t know… hang out?"

Your chest fluttered, "Yeah. I’d love that."

Ellie’s smile widened, her eyes softening. "Good. Because… I’m not done getting to know the real you."

You leaned in, pressing another kiss to her lips. "I’m not done getting to know you, either."

This was just the beginning. And for the first time in a long time, you were excited to see where it would go.

[kookochan]

Monstera

You need to come back to Korea because your dad has problems in his clan. For safety, he hires Jungkook and his team as bodyguards. But can you resist a man like him?

Summary: Jungkook is your bodyguard who doesn't want to step out of his professionalism, but can you break his rules? +18

bodyguard Jungkook x fem! reader

warnings/content: blood, making out, use of cigarettes and alcohol, guns, yn is a flirty and has a crush but can we judge her?, injuries, yoongi&jimin as jungkooks team!!

wc: 5k

"Why would you accept this job so spontaneously? It's fucking 3 am and I'm super sleepy," Jimin says for the nth time since they arrived at the airport. Jungkook is standing next to him and groans. "I told you that he offered a lot of money. You would totally say yes too," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, I know I said I don't want to know about this person, but I changed my mind. Who are we waiting for?" Jimin asks with curiosity. "The daughter of a businessman. The world knows him as that, but he is also doing some illegal stuff. He told me that he needs to protect her, so he sent her back home. I think the job will be easy. She grew up with a golden spoon, so she will be ignoring us. We need to stay professional, that's all," he explains. Jimin rolls his eyes. "She will be a bitch." Jungkook shows him his phone. The open bank account was smiling at Jimin. "Oh my god. Fuck," he replies.

"She is Korean, but she only speaks English. That will be a little bit difficult but also good for us if we need to talk about something that she is not allowed to hear," Jungkook says. "Oh man, I feel shy talking in English," Jimin groans. After the small conversation, they wait in silence.

"Look, someone really flew with a plant. How did she get that into the plane?" Jimin thinks aloud. Jungkook looks at the same spot and notices a woman with a monstera. He never liked plants and flowers, but these looked pretty. His eyes wander to the woman, and they have eye contact for some seconds. She looks at her phone and quickly looks back at him.

"Why is she waving at us?" Jimin asks, a little confused. You walk towards them with a little smile. "Hello, I'm Yn Yln. My dad sent me a photo of the guy who will take me home. So yeah, that's why I was looking at you the whole time," you say, getting shy by their intense energy. "Oh, hello, sorry for the awkward moment. My name is Park Jimin. You can use Jimin if you like," he says with a friendly handshake. "You can call me YN too," you say. You look at the man standing next to him. "Hello, Miss Yln. We will be on your side for the next few days until your dad arrives here," Jungkook says while ignoring your stretched hand and starts walking towards the parking garage.

You share a look with Jimin and follow him. "How was your flight?" Jimin asks. "It was too long. But I slept a lot and watched some movies, so it was bearable," you answer him. "Is he Jeon Jungkook? My dad told me about him," you ask. "Yes, that's him. He is really serious about his job," Jimin says. "Yeah, I can tell."

When you reach the car, someone else is waiting with a cigarette between his fingers. He inhales his last breath and throws it into an ashtray beside the door. You watch him go to open the car door for you. It's sad that only Jimin is talking to you. "Okay, her suitcase is in the back. We can go," Jungkook says, only to realize that both men already got in the car. He takes a deep breath before sitting next to you in the backseat. The monstera is between you two.

"Oh, next to me is Yoongi. He is a little grumpy; don't take it personally," Jimin says with a grin. Only to get a glare as a response. "Nice to meet you," you say with a smile. You watch the scene outside the window. A lot of city lights passing next to you. Everything feels new to you. The last time you visited Seoul was when you were a child.

When you stand at the traffic lights, you notice a little booth with snacks. You turn to Jungkook, who is looking at his phone. You know he noticed that you're looking at him, but he pretends. That little snake, you think. Jimin and Yoongi were talking about something in Korean. You're not sure if they are talking or discussing. "I'm hungry," you say and break the silence. But nobody reacts. The two in the front seats are still talking, and Jungkook doesn't even look up.

You move your head next to the front seat, and by the time the lights spring from yellow to green, you step out of the car. "What are you doing—" Jungkook yells, but you already slam the door and walk away. "Oh my god, she just stepped out," Jimin says while holding his chin in disbelief. Yoongi curses and tries to park the car somewhere. Jungkook is looking out of the window in case you change the route.

"Where did she go?" Jungkook whispers to himself. All three of them are looking around. "I'm here!" you call. You're sitting on a stool and eating tteokbokki from a small bowl. "Why would you run away? You know why you're here and how dangerous it could be!" Jungkook says while raising his voice. You look up at him while chewing and shrug your shoulders.

"Oh, come on. I'm not a babysitter or anything. What are we even doing right now?" Yoongi says in Korean. "Calm down. It's a job," Jimin says. "Hey, it's not nice talking in another language," you say. "Also, I told you that I'm hungry, but you ignored me," you add. You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Okay, are you done eating then? We need to go to the hotel," he says and tries holding back. He just needs to think about the amount of money he is making. "Yeah, I'm done," you say and stand up.

-

The hotel room was not a room. It's a full suite. The only thing that's bothering you is that they stay with you. "Are you going to stay here too?" you ask. "Yes, we need to stay here as well. Until your dad is coming back," Jungkook answers. "Oh, Jimin and I booked the room next door. You can stay here with her," Yoongi says and walks out of the suite. "Good night, you two. See you tomorrow!" Jimin says and walks out. You share a look with Jungkook. "Okay, I need to correct the information. I need to stay here too," Jungkook says. He is annoyed, but he will scold them tomorrow.

"Are you always this cold?" you ask while sitting down next to him. "I'm just doing my job," he answers. Not looking in your direction. "Can we pretend that we're friends or something? It feels awkward like this," you plead. He shakes his head as a no. "Okay, that's okay too. You look hot like this," you say while watching him. Your eyes wander from his big shoulders to his tiny waist and then a little more down. His head snaps to you, and you can see that his earlobe is turning red. You laugh at him. "So cute. Do you have a girlfriend?" He stands up. "No. Good night. Go to bed." You watch him walk to the balcony. "So sexy," you whisper. "I'm married," he says and closes the door. Your face drops quicker than ever.

-

The morning sun hits your face. You carefully sit up and look around. After sitting in silence for a while, you stand up to change into a daily outfit and do your morning routine. When you step out of your room, all three are already sitting on the couch. Two laptops on the table and some guns.

You straight walk to the balcony to get some fresh air. "Here, drink some tea," Jimin says while handing you a cup. "Thanks," you say and sip it. "What are you guys doing?" you ask. "Some security checks," he answers. "When is your job done?" you ask. It feels like an interrogation. "What is that supposed to mean! Are you sick of us?" he asks back with a playful smile. "Nah, I mean I would be mad if my husband were to be away for that long," you bitterly say. You hope that he will give you some answers; you do want to know about his wife. The lucky one.

"Husband?" he asks, confused. "Jungkook's wife," you say. Jimin starts laughing while you watch him in confusion. "Why are you laughing?" you ask and punch his arm. "He is saying that when a client starts flirting with him. He is not married and also has no girlfriend," Jimin says while moving his eyebrows. "Oh, that bastard! I was just flirting a little, okay? I asked him about a girlfriend! Why would he do that?" you say, frustrated. "I mean, now you know that he is single, I guess," Jimin says. You look at him with a knowing smile.

When you both walk inside, you bid him goodbye. Jimin looks at you confused, but you walk towards the door anyway. "Where are you going?" Jungkook asks. "Out?" you say with a confused expression. "No, you're not going out," he says back.

"Excuse me? I thought your job was taking me to a hotel and not ordering me around," you say while putting your hands on your hips. "No, we are responsible for your safety, and we got information about some things. You can't leave," Jungkook says. "But I already planned a date with my friends," you pout. Jungkook only rolls his eyes.

You walk and sit next to him. "What is all of this?" you ask. "We're trying to track some people who are after you," Jimin says. He gets a sharp glance from Yoongi. "There are people after me?" you ask aloud. "Don't worry. You don't need to know anything. We will take care," Yoongi says. You lean back with a huff. This was not the trip that you wanted.

"Why is one of them directly driving to the hotel? Nobody knows that we're staying here. That's not a coincidence," Yoongi says in Korean. "That's so weird," Jimin says back. Jungkook finally turns towards you. You're lying beside him in a weird position. Legs still off the couch, but your upper body on the couch. Your head next to his thigh and the phone in your hand.

"Did you tell anyone that we're staying at this hotel?" Jungkook asks. You turn a little to look at his face. "Hmm, no, I don't think so," you say. "Oh wait, I told a friend about that," you correct. "Who is this friend?" Jungkook asks. You quickly sit up. "Wait, are you jealous? I told you we could be friends, but you didn't want to." Jimin laughs about that. "No, dummy, I need the name," Jungkook says. He is already feeling annoyed. "Mei. Li Mei is her name. Why?" you say. Jimin starts searching for the name. "Fuck, it's the daughter of King Li," Jimin says.

"Oh great. So you're telling the daughter of one of the biggest enemies of your father that you're staying here? When you need to be safe? Are you stupid, or are you just acting like one?" Jungkook yells at you. "Wait, she is the daughter of one enemy? Since when? I didn't even know. You really think my father shares his clan shit with me!" you yell back at him. "Okay, calm down, you two. We need to go. They're on the way," Jimin says.

You stand up to gather your belongings. "Come on, be quick!" Jungkook says. "Stop yelling at me! And stop ordering me around! I'm not your kid," you say while pointing at him. The tension is thick between you two. When you finally get your monstera, you walk out. The elevator is already waiting because of Jimin. By the time you get to the entrance and walk towards the back door, you hear a loud shot. The pot of the Monstera shatters in your hand, and you lose the hold on it. Jungkook quickly pulls you behind him and starts shooting in the direction.

He manages to move you behind the reception desk. "You okay?" he asks. You're in shock, and you try to understand what's happening. "I'm good. But the monstera. It was my mum's," you say with a shaky voice. "I'm sorry for that. I know it's the only thing that remains of her," Jungkook says and softly caresses your arm. "What? Did my mother die? My mom is dead?" you ask and start crying. Jungkook's eyes widened, and he cursed under his breath. "Oh my god, no! I thought she died, and you can't let it go! Why else would you carry a fucking monstera with you?!" he speaks in panic. You hit his shoulder twice. "Asshole! She told me to bring it here. She will kill me if she finds out that I lost it!"

"Okay, sorry that I assumed the worst! Now stay here until I come back, okay?" he says. You hold onto his arm. "Where are you going? Please stay." "I will be back," he says and walks away. You can only hear the gunshots and pray that everyone is safe. Time passes, and you see Jimin kneeling next to you. "Okay, when I say three, we're going to run, okay?" he says. You nod quietly. "Three" is the first thing he says, and both of you run towards the back backdoor. Yoongi already sits in the car, and you get in the back. Seconds later Jungkook sits next to you, and Yoongi pulls off as fast as he can.

"Never tell anyone where you're staying, okay?" Jungkook tells you. "I'm sorry," you say. How could you know that everything will change like this? You thought she was a friend and that you could trust her. You need to talk to your father about all these secrets that he kept. Jimin hands out a cloth, breaking your train of thoughts. You look at him confused. "Your hands are bleeding," he says. Only then do you feel the cuts in your hands. "Thank you," you say while taking the cloth. Jungkook takes it from your hands and rips it into two halves. He starts bandaging it on both hands. You watch his long fingers doing their magic. Yeah, you have a little crush on him.

-

You're sitting on a couch wrapped in a blanket. The night is cold, and the three men are talking about security in the kitchen. You look at your hands in your lap. The cuts sting, and you just want it to stop. After some time, Jimin and Yoongi walk to the terrace, and Jungkook comes back to you with a first aid kit. "Give me your hands," he says and sits down next to you. "Why are you going to propose?" you tease him. He sighs and holds your right hand. Wasting no time, he starts to bandage it the right way. "You're really gentle and skilled," you comment. "I do this often," he answers.

"It's the first time that I see your tattoos. They're pretty. And it suits you," you say while outlining the snake. "Thanks," he says and goes on with your left hand so you are forced to not touch him anymore. "I'm sorry for not thinking about the safety rule," you say genuinely. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I should know that your dad never talked about this stuff," he says. "Oh, you really said sorry! That was unexpected," you say with a smile. He smiles back, but it's quickly gone. You still catch it. "You look cute when you smile," you say. He looks into your eyes for the first time today. It's quiet but not suffocating between you. You don't know where the encouragement comes from, but you lean in and kiss him. His underlip between yours. At first he doesn't react, but after a second he kisses you back. Just slightly, and then he pulls away.

"I know that you lied about this marriage thing," you say. He takes a deep breath. "It's not my style to fall in love or flirt with someone while I'm working," he says in a serious voice. "Oh, come on, just a little bit of fun?" you ask with puppy eyes. He flicks your forehead. "No." "Did you ever break the rule?" you ask. "No, and I will not," he answers. You sulk at him, but he doesn't care. He goes on with closing the first aid kit. Jungkook watches you from the corner of his eye. He smiles at your cute face. He needs to admit that you have a little impact on him. Maybe bigger than he wants to admit. There is no way of pretending that he doesn't want to deepen the kiss.

-

The next morning you join them at the table for breakfast. Jungkook offers you a plate with some pancakes. "Thanks," you say and smile at him. "Today there is an event. My dad told me that I should go to make a point that everything is fine. Did he talk about it?" you ask. "Yes, he told us. We will go together and only stay for one or two hours," Jimin explains. You nod at him. "When are you done with the job?" you ask. "Your father is coming back next week," Jimin says.

You continue with eating the pancakes and some fruits. Already planning what you will wear. Then you glance at Jungkook, who is busy on his iPad. Your eyes wander to Jimin and Yoongi, who are focused on eating. It's weird that they know a lot about you and your family, but you know nothing. Next week they will leave your life like nothing happened.

After breakfast you start getting ready. A black dress and waves as a hairstyle are a safe option. You choose a red lipstick. When you hear the knock on your door, you turn around. Jungkook stays there in a black suit. Of course you will match, you think. A little delusional that black is not the safe color for everyone in this world.

"Come on, you can tell me that I look hot," you say with a wink. He rolls his eyes at you. Not knowing that you find it hot. "I wanted to ask if you're done," he says. "You look hot. The black shirt is a dessert for my eyes," you say. He does the little smirk. "Be careful, you're drooling." You laugh at him and stand up. "For you every time, honey." You tap on his shoulder and leave the room. Jungkook needs some seconds to breathe again.

-

The music is quiet, a lot of people are talking, and a lot of waitresses are walking with champagne. You take one and start drinking. These kinds of events are never fun for you. You wish that everything will go smoothly.

Jungkook is standing across from your table. He is watching every move you make. A young man is talking to you with a big smile. He is definitely flirting with you, and he doesn't know why he feels annoyed by that. The man leans in to tell you something, but your eyes wander towards him. The eye contact is strong. You walk off in his direction, and he fixes his suit.

"Would you dance with me?" you ask with a smile. "No," he says and looks around. "Oh, come on, I told him that I already have a partner. Otherwise he will ask me again!" you say with pleading eyes. "Please," you push. He rolls his eyes but takes your hand. You move to the dance floor, where a lot of couples have already started dancing. Your arms are around his neck, and his fingers find your waist. The movements are slow but intense.

"You know, I thought about your stupid rule," you break the silence. He looks down at you. "I would like to know you better. Maybe it was not the right thing to flirt with you directly, but we can go out on a date next week. When the job is over," you say. Jungkook pulls you near to his body. "That's a compromise," he says with a smile. You need to save this frame forever. "Is that a yes?" you ask. The music slows down, a reminder that it's ending. "Yes," he says and stops moving. The music ends, and both of you walk to the table.

The event goes on with you telling all the gossip to Jimin. Yoongi acts like he doesn't care but is still listening. Jungkook is sipping his wine, not even listening to you. Jimin is fascinated by the funny stories. He thought the night would be boring. Yoongi checks the clock. "It's time to go," he says. "Let's drink at home?" you suggest. Jimin is the only one who likes the suggestion.

By the time you walk towards the door, you catch someone watching you closely. For a second you have eye contact. The problem is he looks familiar, but also it's like you saw him for the first time. You break the contact and walk to the car.

-

"Iron Man? I would marry him without hesitation," you say and take a shot. "I would too look at him," Jimin says while laughing. Yoongi and Jungkook are watching you in disbelief. "We should stop them here," Yoongi says. "Both look like shit," he adds in Korean. You and Jimin turn towards him in shock. "That's mean," you say in Korean. Just to gain all of their attention. "You can speak and understand Korean," Yoongi points out. "Yeah, I can. My dad told me to keep it a secret, so don't tell anyone," you say.

Jimin fills new shots and hands you one. You both take it at the same time. Yoongi and Jungkook share a look. "Okay, the party is over," Jungkook says and helps you get up. Yoongi pulls Jimin to the room. "Good night!" Jimin screams before the door closes. "Why would you stop us? We had so much fun," you say while Jungkook is walking you to the bathroom. "You were about to get drunk. Just brush your teeth, and then you can go to sleep. God, I'm so thankful that you did your routine and changed into pajamas before drinking," he says.

You listen to him and brush your teeth. He walks to your room and prepares the bed. You lean against the doorframe and watch him. "Thank you," you say. He smiles at you and holds your hand. "Come on, it's time to sleep," he says. His hand feels warm and secure. "Can you sleep with me?" you ask and lay down. He brushes some strands that are in your face away. "Kiss me," you say while watching his intense eyes.

Jungkook drops his rules and leans in. Starting to kiss your lips slowly only to go deeper. You're struggling to adjust, so you're leaving it to him. You want to feel more of him, so you start wandering your hands around his torso. He towers over you and starts kissing your throat. "You smell so good," he says. "I want more," you say. He moves his hands to your waist. His hardness is poking you. You move your hips in frustration, and he starts doing the same. The only thing separating you is your pajamas and his joggers.

He stops kissing your chest and looks into your eyes. "Go to sleep, baby. We made the deal with a date after my job is done," he says. You whine at his words. He lies next to you and embraces you in a hug. You feel comfortable and too sleepy to resist.

-

You open your eyes and look around. Jungkook is sleeping with one leg over your legs. You smile at his cute face. Playing with his messy hair. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at you. "Good morning," he says and starts getting up. "Good morning, mister," you say back. "I will go prepare some breakfast," he says and walks out of your room. You also get up to do your morning routine.

When you enter the kitchen, Jimin is already sitting there with a pout. "You good?" you ask him while sitting next to him. "Good morning, princess. Just a headache, like always," he says. You sigh, "Same here. But it was fun! We need to do it more often!" He laughs at you, "Yeah, we should."

"You need to eat first before taking painkillers," Jungkook says and puts two toasted sandwiches in front of you. You share it with Jimin and happily eat together. Your phone buzzes next to you. An unknown number sent a message.

unknown: we need to talk

Yn: who are you?

unknown: you pretended not to know me yesterday. But you saw me while leaving. Remember?

"What's wrong?" Jimin asks. "I saw someone yesterday before we left. He was watching me, and I tried to remember who he was. But then I thought that I don't know him. He just texted me," you say and show your phone. Yoongi and Jungkook are also looking at the messages. "That's weird. Ask his name," Yoongi says.

Yn: tell me your name maybe it helps.

unkown: now you're acting like you don't know me. That hurts. It's me, Hoseok.

"Oh, it's Hoseok. I do know that name. My father told me that his father wanted an alliance by getting us married. We declined it. Maybe he is mad," you tell them. "Okay, but what does he want now?" Jimin asks. "I really don't know" you say.

Yn: what do you want?

Hoseok: I want to talk to you

Yn: there's nothing to talk about. Leave me alone

"He wants to talk, but of course I will not," you say and put your phone down. Not aware of the dangerous game that he planned.

"Find her," Hoseok says to his right-hand man. He was looking after you for two years. Not knowing that you moved away. But now he would get revenge. Your father killed his father.

-

The days pass quicker than you expected. The three of you are more than strangers. Also, Yoongi was nicer to you and was talking about different things. You're happy to know that after they're done, you will stay friends.

"Did you think about our first date?" you ask Jungkook, who is sitting on the terrace. "I would like to invite you to my house. I will cook something for you, and we can watch a movie. It's still not safe to go out," he says. You lean your head against his shoulder. "That's cute. I can imagine your house. Everything is clean and organized," you say. He leans his head over yours. "I'm not that cold, man, you imagine me to be," he says, a little offended. "Yup, of course you're not," you say sarcastically. He pouts at your words. You're excited to have the chance to know him better.

"Let's cook something. I'm hungry," you say after a while. You both stand up and go inside. Yoongi and Jimin are taking a nap in their room. Jungkook opens the fridge to look for some ingredients. By that time your phone rings. It's an unknown number, but you answer it anyway.

"Hello," you say while walking to the kitchen. "Hey, pretty," Hoseok says. You stand still on the spot. "What do you want?" you ask, a little annoyed. "I'm so sorry that it will end like this. I mean, I imagined you as my wife, but now you're nothing more than my revenge plan," he says. "What are you talking about?" you ask, a little annoyed that he is making a puzzle out of it. "Your dad killed my dad. And when I found out he sent you back home. He is stupidly pretty. He thought I would come for him. He really thought I wouldn't know that you're here. Maybe he did know and told you to join the event. My event. What do you think?" he asks. You swallow and feel your hands shake. "Where are you?" you ask. "Good question. That's why I wanted you. What a shame," he says.

Jungkook walks to the kitchen door, a little confused why you take so long. He looks you up and down, and he knows something is wrong. You lock your eyes with him. His eyes wander to the laser pointer at your chest. His heart beats faster than ever. "Get down!" he screams. But the only thing you hear are two shots and the window that is shattering. Because of the sharp pain in your chest and hip, you lose the energy to stay and fall to the side. Jungkook is quick to catch you. The phone is already gone.

"Yn, stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes!" he yells in panic. Yoongi and Jimin are running towards you. "Here, press this to the wound," Yoongi offers his shirt. Jungkook does as he is told. Your eyes wander, and you try to breathe. "I'm scared," you whisper. Breaking him completely. He starts crying, "No, I'm here. You can't leave. What about our deal?" he asks. Trying to let you stay awake. Your eyes betray you, and you start crying too.

"I called the ambulance. They will be here," Jimin says. All of them are in shock. Yoongi is pressing another cloth on your other wound. "She is losing too much blood," he says quietly. Jungkook strokes your hair. "You will stay, right?" he asks. It's the first time that you see him so vulnerable. His big eyes were red from crying. The urge to sleep is too strong. He holds your hand. You try to fight it. You really do. But the pain is eating you up. Your eyes are closing. The last thing you hear is his small voice with a sob, "Please stay." Will you?

Thank you for reading! I'm cursed with writing open endings... I hope you liked it <3

Feel free to share your thoughts 🫧

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɢʏᴀʀᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 𝟸

yan gyaru who is your clingy bestfriend

Every morning, he made sure to time his arrival perfectly so that he’d “accidentally” run into you near the lockers. "N/n!~" He grinned at you as you opened you locker, twirling his hair.

“Kajiro,” you greeted, adjusting your bag. “What’s up?”

“Just waiting for my favorite person, obviously.” He grinned, stepping closer. “You know, we should totally hang out after school today. I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” He pouted, trying to convince you. "wait no, we should have a sleepover!" His face lit up like a Christmas tree, eyes sparkling with excitement as you stared at him confused

"Im bus-"

"Okay, ill be at your house at 3pm, baby!" He said as he waved at you and left, blowing you a kiss.

meanwhile ur friend next to you looks at u weirdly "how tf did you bag that" You js shrugged

yan gyaru who while during class, spams u

ᴋ𝟺ᴊɪғᴏʀʟɪғᴇᴇᴇᴇ ׂ

hiii n/n :3

lets meet uppp!!!!

i wanna see ur faceee ;3

babyyyyy cmonnnn

im SOOOOO bored in this class without uuuu

i need to see u before i go crazyyyy :(

ʜᴏᴇsʟᴜᴠʏ/ɴ

bruh no

last time we met up in the middle of class, u wanted me to js skip n go on a date

n stop texting im abt to get my phone taken by the teacher

ᴋ𝟺ᴊɪғᴏʀʟɪғᴇᴇᴇᴇ ׂ

:( n/n ur so mean!

n change ur username nowwww!!!!

im supposed to be the only hoe that loves u!!!

GASPPP

do u have other hoes?!?!?!??! Are u cheating??!?!?! Youve been playing hello kitty adventure with some other bitches?!??!!?N/n, i will rip their scalp off their head, and throw a table at them.

Y/n L/n, who are the bitches u call hoes?

y/n, if u dont block them now, ur gonnna see me on the news for murder.

yan gyaru who during english class, just writes poets about his love to you. In art, he draws you and him getting married. In math, he daydreams about the day you guys live in a cute cottage home with your 2 bunnies, and a cat.

yan gyaru who once the final bell rings, hes OUT that class, practically running out to go to your class so you wont leave him.

yan gyaru who finally found you, and was huffing and puffing from all that running before grinning at you. "Lets go, babe?" He said, grabbing your backpack from your shoulders and carrying it himself.

It’s Friday night, and you’ve somehow got dragged into having a sleepover with the guy who’s been obsessively crushing on you for ages—your bubbly gyaru friend, who just can’t get enough of you.

The whole walk to your house, he was gushing and nonstop talking about how fun it was gonna be. “Babe! This is gonna be so fun, I can’t wait!” he chirps, holding onto your arm tightly as if he has doubts that you were gonna run away.

yan gyaru who from the second he steps in your home, he’s a non-stop chatterbox. He’s talking about everything—school, the latest drama, his favorite new clothes, and of course, you. His eyes are constantly on you, lighting up every time you laugh or even just nod along, internally cheering that he made you laugh.

“Oh my god, Y/N, have you seen the latest episode of that show we talked about? We have to watch it together tonight! It’s gonna blow your mind!” He said as he played with your hair.

You can tell he’s beyond excited just to be around you, and his energy is contagious. He’s always smiling, laughing, and playfully bumping your shoulder whenever he makes a joke.

yan gyaru whose endlessly complimenting you. He just can’t stop complimenting you. Whether you’re dressed up or in casual sleepover clothes, he’s still in awe of you. “You look cute even in pajamas, Y/N. Like, how is that fair?” He pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together as he rubbed your arm up and down

He loves finding excuses to be near you—adjusting your hair, teasing you about how comfy you look, or even just admiring your smile. “You’re seriously too cute, I’m not even joking. I could stare at you forever, hehe~.”

"bro"

yan gyaru who inists on staying up late even if your half asleep by 10 pm. He’s full of bubbly energy, even when you’re eyes are starting to close. “We can’t go to bed yet! We have to at least talk about… everything!”

He starts asking more personal questions as the night goes on, his obsession peeking through. “What’s your favorite part of the day? Did you think about me at all today?” His voice is playful, but you can tell he genuinely cares about your answers by the way he intently listens

When you start to get drowsy and start giving mumbled answers, he gives a soft laugh. “You’re so pretty when you’re sleepy. Here, let’s get comfy,” he says, tugging the blanket closer around you both.

yan gyaru who the next morning,

yan gyaru who teasing you about how you slept, offering to make breakfast, and texting you immediately after he leaves

ᴋ𝟺ᴊɪғᴏʀʟɪғᴇᴇᴇᴇ ׂ

last night was soooo funnn! lets do it again this week yeah? :3

yan gyaru who is ur fashionista bestie who is a little too obsessed with you <3

[fictionalmenxyn]

Frat!Rafe x Sorority!Reader Scenarios

1:

You were lying on your bed with Rafe. Rafe on top of you as you both made out. Your lips moving in sync as you both started to get into a heated make out session. Rafe’s forearms on either side of you on the bed as he somewhat cages you in. He starts to move his lips down and across your jaw and starts to go to your neck. When all of a sudden. Your bedroom door has three large bangs followed with a “open up it’s the fbi!”. Rage groaned as he pulls his lips away from your neck. Knowing exactly who it is he called back “I left the frat today to have some alone time! Why the fuck are you two here?!” You tried to hold your laugh back. Knowing it was Topper and Kelce. They could never go too long without Rafe. The door opened ever so slightly. Topper spoke “you two decent??” You smirked and answered “yes, Top-” Rafe quickly puts a hand over your mouth “No! Both completely naked! Do not come in!” Kelce let out a whistle while Topper spoke “ah! We know Y/n’s telling the truth… can we come in please…?” Both Topper and Kelce dragging out the ‘please’. Yep, they are indeed, the cockblocks. Why? Cause Rafe is in a stable relationship and they are still on the hook ups. Also it’s funny to see Rafe annoyed according to them.

2:

You were in the middle of class when you felt something small hit the side of your head. You rolled your eyes at the small piece of paper. Knowing where this was going. You opened the paper and instantly recognised your boyfriend’s handwriting. Rafe wrote ‘he sweet girl, the love of my life, my rock, my everything… can you get me canes when you and the girls go??? PLEASE??’ You smirked and rolled your eyes. Typical Rafe. And also typical you for still getting him canes.

3:

He’s in the shower, using your speaker you left over a couple days ago. What he didn’t know was that you came over to retrieve said speaker. As you got closer to his room you heard very familiar music. Very. Very. Familiar…. Oh the little shit! He signed into your Spotify account to listen to your white chick music. No wonder you could hear Brittany spears and Will.I.Am. You opened his en-suite door quietly. You could hear him faintly singing along ‘scream and shout, and let it all out.. scream and shout-” you pulled back the curtain “RAFE!” He jumped a mile. Almost slipping in the soap suds in the bottom of the shower “JESUS CHRIST!” You laugh “nope not him, but the fuck are you doing singing into my Spotify??” You knew why. He definitely didn’t wanna see all the football guys seeing a playlist on his phone saying ‘which chick tunes’.

4:

It was girls night at the sorority. All of you cozied up on the couches and watching your romcoms or action movies. Whatever you all could agree on, you watched. Then you hear the front door opening and a familiar “Honey I’m home!” You rolled your eyes as the girls laughed at Rafe’s entry. All the frat boys from his frat have arrived. They all approached, wearing comfy clothes. Since they all probably slept in their boxers and didn’t wanna just wear that in front of all the girls. They all come and sit by either their girlfriend or a friend. Rafe moved to cuddle into you. Yep, you can say bye bye to ‘girls’ night and say hello to ‘girls watch movies while the guys commentate or complain when the boy is being a bitch to the girl romcom’ night. Good luck.

5:

Rafe had set up a small ‘date’ for you both. Going to the near-by beach. He parked up his pick up. He pulled back the hard top cover to the trucks bed. Revealing pillows, blankets and a blow up mattress. You smiled at his little date idea. You both laid in the bed of the truck. His arm around you as you both watched the waves. Chatting about everything and anything. And thankfully this time there was no Topper or Kelce to interrupt. Good thinking Rafe.

6:

Rafe was rummaging through his closet looking for his old jersey. He was planning on wearing it to the gym. It was old and he wouldn’t need it for football. So it came in handy. Well, it would’ve. If it was in his closet. He groaned and rolled his eyes. First he thought about how it’s been sitting in the laundry for a week and he completely forgot to wash it. Then he remembered you did his laundry the other day since he was at practice till very late. He knew it was a sweet gesture. Too sweet to be true. Why? Cause you did it to subtly steal his jersey and a few other shirts. As usual. So. As expected. He pulled out his phone and face timed you. He saw you laying on your bed when you answered. He flashed his lopsided smile “hey baby, you okay?” You smiled softly and nodded “yeah, I’m okay, you?” He nodded as he ran his head over his head “yeah, I am… but I’ve seemed to notice a few things kissing in my closet…” you raised an eyebrow. “Missing? What’ve you done now?” He was quick to defend “me?!” You chuckled and nodded. He looked at you for a moment with pure silence. He then brown the silence. “Baby… could have my old jersey… please? I need it for the gym…” you smiled softly “well… since you asked so nicely, I guess you could have it…. If you do… in return, I get it back nice and clean?” He smirked and shook his head “that’s a hard bargain, sweetheart… but sure, I guess I could return it to its ‘rightful owner’…”. You smiled proudly. Yea! You did it. You nodded “deals settled, I’ll see you later. Love ya!” He chuckled “love you too, dummy..”

[rafeysbambii]

hypnosis : s2!rafe has to handle some guys that were talking down on his bambi.

warnings : lots of cursing, rafe beats a group of guys up, a little nsfw at the end (not a lot but soon!)

story type : fic / drabble !

a/n : i’ve reached 280 followers! this is so mind blowing to me, thank you all so much for all of the support! i’m so glad you guys are enjoying these! i love you all so very much! and also, bambi calling rafe ‘my hunter’ is canon and i won’t be told otherwise.🤍

(you get it cause she’s the deer and he’s the hunter.. yeah.)

rafe loved bambi, but of course he wouldn’t admit it (even though it’s painfully obvious) out loud to anyone besides her. and that ladies and gentlemen is the reason why he spoils to the fuck out of her, new shoes, new clothes, trips to the zoo to see her weird looking animals, and even getting her little beetle car wrapped in a pretty light brown per her mention.

and he’d be damned if anyone were to disrespect him or his girl.

well today was like any other friday for the almost couple, bambi has driven to the country club to meet rafe so she could watch him play some rounds of golf - or mostly for the free drinks and watching his muscles flex with each swing.. but who’s business other than hers is that?

and also like usual, rafe had some work to do and ordered bambi to meet him at the country club, get a little flute of champagne to keep herself occupied, and just kick back and wait for him to arrive.

and she would’ve done just that…

if she didn’t hear a group of guys laughing obnoxiously at her and rafe’s table. but here’s the kick, she heard rafe’s name flow so effortlessly out of their mouths. “ — right, man i’m telling you, she’s hot as fuck, rafe is a lucky man but shit is she making him soft.. i mean i asked him if he could grab me some stardust, and you know what he told me?”

“he told me ‘i don’t do that shit anymore, don’t want my bambi getting involved with that.’ he’s pussy whipped!” she had heard about ‘stardust’, but of course rafe had told her ‘not to worry her pretty little head about it’, “man that pussy must be magical, cause you can’t catch me quitin that shit for a quiet bitch. he needs to go back to fuckin’ the girls with the big tits and never gave a fuck!”

that’s what really set bambi off, what made the tears flow from her big bug eyes, what made her run out of the country club and into her small car, and before she can even start it up, she’s violently sobbing into her hands to the lowered sound of ‘Picture you’ by Chappell Roan (queen mama.)

yet even with her favorite music artist playing in the back, she can’t help but tune it out on her drive all the way back to her home in tanneyhill, just a few blocks down from rafes house where he’s probably still finishing up his work, but she can’t help but not pay attention to it - or the fact that he’ll probably blow up her phone within seconds of arriving at the country club.

and her prediction was right, once she’s already rushed into her house, took off her cute checkered dress, white sweater and uggs that rafe had bought her, her phone was blowing up with messages from rafe, but she knew his friends were right, she’s soft… she’s holding rafe back, and now she knows.

from ; my hunter🤍

i’m here baby.

i ordered you that red drink with the cherry and red shit.

don’t remember what it’s called lmfao.

where are you?

???

hello?

bambi?

where are you bambi?

seen just now

she watches with ease as the texts bombard her phone, yet she clicks the electronic closed, leaving rafe worried that something had happened to her on the drive to the country club. but she doesn’t really care, she wants to be left in her solitude with her tears.

bambi is sleeping peacefully when shes suddenly awoken by a warm pair of hands rubbing at her back, but she doesn’t move an inch - who the hell is inside of her house? “bambi? there you are kid,” oh, she recognizes the voice — it’s her favorite if she’s gonna be honest, rafe.

“hm..” she hums softly, “where the hell have you been bambi? was waitin’ for you.” he slides into the bed, even after she shrugs her shoulders “what’s goin’ on with you bambi?” - she doesn’t have an answer for him, which makes her feel sick to her stomach — she wants to tell him, she really does, but she just can’t find the words.

“i’m not good enough for you… i-im…” that sentence alone makes rafes heart quiver, “what the — the hell are you talkin’ about bambi? why the fuck are you sayin’ that shit?” he grabs her chin, forcing her eyes on his blues - and he feels absolutely defeated when he sees the red, puffy doe eyes that add to her features.

“i heard some boys at the country club talking… t-the guys you play golf with that one night…” rafe already knew where this was going, and he wasn’t happy about it.

at all.

“and they said that i made you soft… and that my pussy must be magical and that’s the only reason you’re with me…” his heart shatters into a zillion little pieces when the words leave her words, how could anyone ever say that about her? someone so sweet, and caring? “that’s… that’s not true baby, you know that.”

“i don’t rafe… they’re right — im not like the girls you’ve had before, they’re more..confident, a-and pretty. i’m just… me.” rafe is holding every physical bone in his body not to storm over to the country club and beat them all to a pulp. “listen to me bambi.” he takes her face in his hands, his signet ring cold against her skin - but she doesn’t seem to care when he’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in his eyes (she is.)

“you’re everything i want honey, i never would’ve talked to you if i didn’t think you were interesting, i love you, you. not any of the other girls before you. you’re perfect bambi, and i won’t let anyone tell you otherwise. and yeah, they’re right — that pussy is magical.”

“rafey! don’t say it like that!” she slaps his chest as they both laugh together - peace, they’re at peace. “wait…” she pauses, looking up at rafe once he pulls her into his lap, “you… you love me?” rafe simply looks up at her, leaning forward to kiss at her neck softly, “yeah bambi, i love you.”

“so does that mean… i’m your girlfriend?” rafe is confused for a minute, “i thought we were already dating bambi.”

a beat of silence rains over the two.

“you never asked me rafey! how was i supposed to know!” her well manicured nails, courtesy of rafe - scratching at the back of his head, she loves rafe, a lot.. and up until this moment, she was completely under the impression that they weren’t in a relationship..

although they do, do a lot of couple things… like rafe decorating the passenger seat of his truck to bambi’s liking, or — or whenever she’s cramping, he brings her a strawberry milkshake from the shady diner in the cut that he absolutely hates going to, but for his bambi - he’ll walk to hell and back if she asked.

so… maybe she did kinda know.. but that’s not the point!

“fine then bambi, will you make me the happiest and luckiest man alive and be my girl?” for a moment, there’s a beat of silence between the two, before bambi is suddenly crying. “shit baby - didn’t mean to make ya cry angel face.” of course, he’s quick to wipe the tears and catch her lips in his, loving the feeling of her trying to catch up with him.

“yes rafey! yes i’ll be your girlfriend!” she exclaims in between wet kisses, the lock to their newfound relationship —. “good cause i wasn’t takin no for an answer.” he’s quick to lean forward, kissing her plump pink lips with an exaggerated smack “now i can kiss you as boyfriend and girlfriend, no more friendly kisses.” the both smile like innocent children as bambi curls into his side, exhausted with the days she had (she woke up, got her nails done, and then went home and took a nap before going to the country club.)

“go to sleep my bambi, i’ll be right next to you in the morning honey.” he doesn’t even realize she’s already asleep until her nose is gently twitching cutely, a small habit he picked up on over the few months - he absolutely adores it, and he adores her, and now..

it’s time to find the dicks who made his girl cry.

the country club is getting emptier and emptier by the minute as the women getting tipsy with their girlfriends, and the men chugging down beers while golfing exit to return back to their homes in tanneyhill. but rafe, is just getting started.

hes immediately identifying the group of guys who made his bambi cry - some tall, bulky and not hot guys. psshh, this would be easy for him. “sup man.” he says as he approaches the group, placing a hand on one of their shoulders in a super non threatening way. “what’s up rafe! yo pogue, get my friend a drink!” rafe stops the guy; by the name of Jordan before he can call the pogue waitress over.

“nah nah, i’m not here to drink fucker.” rafe licks over his lips, his blood practically bubbling over through his seething anger. “i’m gonna tell you this once and you’re gonna fuckin listen yeah?” rafe says, grabbing jordan by the collar and lifting him right off of his chair. “you ever fuckin talk about my bambi like that again and i’ll sew your mouth shut. she may not be crazy but i am.”

rafe drops the shaking guy right into the glossy tile grounds of the country club, flicking the rest off as he turns away — making sure to whisper a snarky remark under his breath.

and the entire ride back to bambi’s, he can’t help but grin wildly because he knows bambi doesn’t know how truly crazy he is — and how willing he is to kill anyone who crosses her without her even knowing it.

a / n : hello there! i’m sorry for taking such a long leave, i’ve been going through some stuff but this is my apology! i hope you enjoyed this, and ill be getting into more writing!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｄｅｌｉｃａｔｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: body piercer!seungmin x chubby!fem!shopassistant!reader (w/ appearances by tattoo artist!stray kids)

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: For the longest time you've dreamed of getting your belly button pierced but you always stop yourself, too shy about your weight to get it done. While working your usual shift at the tattoo shop the resident piercer offers to do it for you, with a bit of meddling from your best friend Changbin, though it turns out that he wants to give you a little or a lot more than just a piercing.

♡ Word Count: 4.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has some insecurities about her weight, piercings (of course), you're getting your belly button pierced babe so yas there's a needle, strong language, kissing, body worship, unprotected sex, Seungmin has a lil dom moment, grinding, fingering, mirror sex, ass slapping, oral sex (f receiving), pet names (good girl), and otherwise fluffiness.

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this as a comfort fic for anyone out there who may be struggling with a bad body image day or who might feel like sometimes that they aren't thin enough to wear/do what they want or get the person that they want. My point being that you're a badass bitch who can get whoever and do whatever. If anyone tells you differently they can eat dirt and tell them I said so, babes - xoxo

♡ Part Two Here ♡

Saturday nights at the shop are always your favorite. It’s a little too loud, a little too hectic, but that’s the way you like it. On nights like these you never know who’s gonna step in from the glow of the neon signs and throw you for a loop.

Like the couple making out on one of the couches while they wait their turn to get matching inner lip tattoos. A decision they totally won’t regret when their two week long romance crashes and burns.

Or people like the guy on the phone insisting he come in for a tattoo you know for a fact all of your boys would die before they took on. 

“Look, man, I’m not judging you,” you say, judging him to the fullest extent, “It’s just that most of my guys aren’t gonna tattoo your di—”

“Delivery!” a friendly voice rings out in the lobby.

The front door dings, announcing the arrival of your usual delivery girl. She’s short and bubbly with a bag hooked in each of her wrists, filled to the brim with food. In a hurry as always, she sets them down on the desk in front of you and flashes a sweet smile before scurrying off to her next delivery. You respond with one of your own, hopping off the phone just in time to shout, “Have a good night!”

Without missing a beat, you scoop the bags up and head down the hallway off to your left. Bobbing your head along to the rock music blasting from the speakers overhead, you make your way to the main floor where tattoo guns are buzzing away. 

“Food’s here!” you announce but it’s too late. You’ve already been spotted and Jeongin’s swiping the bag from your right hand before you can dodge him. 

“Ooh, what’s for dinner?” he asks, already hard at work cruising through tonight’s options. 

“What?” Felix yells from the far side of the room. He’s hunched over his table, focused on finishing a tattoo of a butterfly on the ankle of a girl who’s much more interested in him than a tattoo. 

“She said food’s here!” Jeongin mumbles through a mouthful of food. He makes it a few steps back towards his station, hugging the bag like a newborn baby he’ll protect with his life, before Hyunjin intercepts him.

“Give it here!” Hyunjin demands, almost wrestling a stubborn Jeongin for the bag. 

You feel a tugging at the other bag and by the time you turn to see who it is, Minho’s already passing by with Chan, the bag secured in his hand.

Minho digs through it, frowning, “Fuck, they forgot my sauce again.”

“Christopher, can you control your children before they scare off our customers?” you shout after Chan as he grabs his food and settles down at his station. 

Chan leans back in his chair, kicking his feet up. Checking his watch, he grins, “Can’t sorry. I’m on break.”

You roll your eyes, letting out a huff of frustration. Sometimes the real headache isn’t the weird customers, it’s the guys you work for, but you love them so if there ever were a headache you could tolerate this would be it. 

Turning to head back up front, you stop dead in your tracks when you realize that one of the first people to swarm you for dinner hardly looked your way. Backtracking you spot the stray, Seo Changbin, locked in on an intricate chest tattoo and Han laying across his table, whining like this tattoo wasn’t his idea to begin with. 

You skip over to Changbin’s station, quietly admiring the piece over his shoulder. It’s a compass. Highly detailed. Clean lines. The same flawless work you always expect of him. 

“Aah, you’re trying to kill me” Han says, turning to you for sympathy, “He’s trying to kill me.”

Changbin groans, paying him no mind. “Hey, I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I knew you’d be such a baby about it. 

Han pouts, poking his lip out, “I am not a baby.”

You giggle, shifting to the other side of the table to get a better look. 

“You are such a baby” you tease, poking his lip back in, “It looks really good. Totally worth the pa—oh my god. When did you get that?”

Your gaze drifts from the tattoo and down Han’s torso where shiny, stainless steel jewelry adorns his belly button. 

“A week ago, maybe two?” Han smiles, happy that you noticed. “You like it?”

“Ugh, I love it” you gush, eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I wish I could get one but I can’t.”

Han seems more excited than you at the mention of it. “Why not? You should get one!”

You freeze, unsure how you want to answer this question. You’re mortified of the possible awkwardness of the truth but you’ve been best friends with these guys far too long to lie to them. 

“Well, I haven’t lost enough weight yet to get one but when I do—”

Changbin stops tattooing, shutting his gun off to stare into your soul. “What did I tell you about that? You’re beautiful how you are. Isn’t she beautiful the way she is?”

He poses the question to someone over your shoulder and, as the figure rounds the corner, your heart almost stops beating.

“Hmm? Yeah” Seungmin, the sole piercer in the shop, nods sipping a drink through one of those cute twisty straws. You find pretty much everything the man does attractive but there’s something especially adorable about this. 

He disappears into his room with a simple wave and a nod that makes you weak in the knees. Every guy here is like a brother to you but Seungmin? He’s different. You’ve been head over heels for him, utterly at his mercy, since he started working here.

As far as you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend but you haven’t figured out how to decipher his trademark grumpiness enough to tell if he has a thing for you too. Far too terrified to make the first move, you’ve settled for drooling over your dark haired puppy dog eyed lover from afar. 

Han nudges you with his elbow, struggling to hold back his laughter, “Ooh, you like him.”

You’re about to knee him in the side but he’s saved by Changbin’s execution of a plot he concocted mere seconds ago. You hadn’t noticed that mischievous look on his face but you have now and you don’t like it one bit. 

“Seungmin!” he calls out, flicking his gun on and getting back to work. 

Seungmin appears in the doorway, more preoccupied with his phone than anything Changbin has to say. 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Got time to do a belly button piercing real quick?”

“Depends” Seungmin shrugs, finally looking up from his phone, “Who’s asking?”

“Changbin, no” you mouth, only to be ignored. 

Changbin points to you, bubbling with joy at his evil plan. Seungmin folds his tattooed arms across his chest, looking you up and down.

Suddenly you’re second guessing what you wore today. Some combat boots and a short black dress with lace accents. It’s tight enough to highlight your shape but loose enough to flow a bit when you walk. Is it enough? Is it too much? Why are you even thinking about this?

“You?” Seungmin asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

Fidgeting with the silver heart locket on your necklace, you muster up the courage to actually face him. 

“I was just, uh, I was thinking about it but I’m working so…”

Changbin chimes in, not letting you weasel your way out so easily, “Jeongin can watch the front desk”

“I don’t even have any jewelry picked out.”

“He has emergency jewelry back there. Don’t you, Seungmin?

Seungmin glances back into his room to check, “I’ve got something for her and my next appointment canceled so I have time if she really wants it.”

With no way out, you take a step towards his room, hesitating for a moment. Seungmin gives you a half smile, more than he offers most people. “Come on. I don’t bite.” Not that you’d be mad if he did. 

Giving in, you push forward, glancing over your shoulder to give Changbin a look that says he’ll pay for this later. Seungmin steps aside, patiently waiting for you to enter his room before shutting the door behind you. You jump a little when the door clicks shut and you hear him laughing at you.

“Nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? No way.” 

You’re lying and he can tell. When you spend your time doing dozens of piercings a day you get good at reading people. Plus the way you’re trembling doesn't exactly make it hard to tell what you’re feeling. 

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of you, okay?” he reassures you, placing a comforting hand on your forearm. His thumb strokes your inner wrist and suddenly your body's electric.

“Uh, yeah, for sure” you nod, your voice light and airy. 

Seungmin gently squeezes your arm, heading over to his closet to search for something. After a few seconds he pulls out a small fuzzy blanket with a cute Halloween pattern on it. 

“I need you to pull your dress up for the, well, you know” he says, opening the blanket up for you, “But if you’re not comfortable you can cover up with this.” 

“Oh, thanks. That’s really sweet of you.” You try not to seem too impressed, taking the blanket as he turns his back to you, busying himself by doing some prep. 

Hiking your dress up over your stomach, you tuck the blanket around your waist to cover your legs. Staring down at the way your soft belly pokes out, your brain goes into crisis mode. You’d imagined yourself half dressed in a room with Seungmin but this was far easier in your fantasies than in real life. You feel so vulnerable, one of your biggest insecurities laid bare, but there’s no turning back now. You’re in this. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what all that was about?” Seungmin asks, careful not to catch even the slightest peek at you before you’re ready. 

“All of what?” you stutter, your mind temporarily going blank. “Oh, that with Changbin? That was just, I don’t know, I’ve been wanting this for a while but I was putting it off…for reasons.”

“Because you don’t think you’re ‘Beautiful the way you are’?”

You cringe at his question, wishing Changbin hadn’t used such a cliche phrase. You squint your eyes, staring into the distance, imagining all the ways you’ll torture him for getting you into this. 

“It’s not that” you deny, gearing up for another lie but you back down yet again, “It’s kinda that. I don’t know. I’m not really a girl with a flat stomach.”

Seungmin snaps on a pair of black gloves, “Can I turn around now?”

“Mmhmm” you nod, your dress gathered in a tight fist of fabric above your stomach.

He spins around, pulls up a chair, and flops down in front of you in one fluid motion. He twirls a black marker in one hand, popping the top off with his teeth.

“Who told you that you had to be a girl with a flat stomach?” he asks, inspecting your belly button for the perfect spot. “I like your stomach. I think it’s cute.”

The compliment has the heat formerly warming your cheeks spreading through your entire body. You let out an involuntary giggle and he cracks a smile, a full one this time. The first of its kind in shop history. 

“You don’t have to say that to be nice.”

Seungmin marks a point, grabbing a hand mirror to show it to you, “You like it? Yeah? Good. Up on the table.”

You hop up on the table and assume the position. Straight out on your back, hands at your sides. You see it every day. No instruction needed. 

“I wasn’t being nice by the way” he says, that handsome face sliding up next to you. “It is cute. You’re…you’re really cute.”

Feeling himself begin to blush, he slips out of view to sterilize the area and get the needle ready.

“I’m sorry if that was weird. Was that weird?” he rambles, mostly to himself. 

Today’s full of firsts. You’ve never seen him nervous before, you never expected to, but the man’s ears are turning red and he can barely string a sentence together. 

“It’s not weird, Seungmin. You’re really cute too” you say, despite your own nervousness. You’ve been waiting so long to say that. It’s a relief to finally get it out. 

“Now you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. I do think you’re cute. I always have” you confess, “I just never said anything cause I didn’t think you’d like me."

Pinching your skin with a set of forceps, he aligns the needle with the tiny mark above your belly button, “Deep breath in.”

You take a deep breath in and the needle pops through like butter. You feel a quick sting followed by a rush of adrenaline. He slips the jewelry through so seamlessly you hardly feel it and you’re all done. 

“Are you crazy? I’ve liked you forever. Was it not obvious?” he asks, popping off his gloves and taking your hand to sit you up. 

“What? No. It wasn’t obvious. Was it supposed to be?”

Seungmin pauses, truly reflecting upon his attempts at flirting. “I tell you ‘Good morning’ every morning. I tell everyone else to kiss my ass.” 

“So romantic” you joke before noticing how sincere he is about it. 

You instantly wonder if he’s stared at you before the way he does now. The truth is that he has, maybe not in the most obvious moments but every chance he gets. When you’re running late in the morning, hurrying in with iced coffee to win everyone’s sympathy. When you’re all hanging out at Minho’s place and you’re rambling with Han about the dramas you’ve been watching. Or when you’re all out having drinks and you’re simply existing. He has those same stars in his eyes that he does now. Every. Single. Time. 

Realizing how hard he must be staring, he backs his chair up, giving you enough room to move around. Riding high on the thrill of actually going through with your piercing—your thoughts jumbled up by the knowledge that these feelings are mutual—you hop up to check yourself out in the mirror with not a thought given to the fact that the blanket has slipped off.

So here you are, twirling around in front of the mirror with your dress proudly held up. Plush thighs kissing each other. Lacey black panties on full display. A dazzling piece of jewelry dangles from your belly button and your stomach does the happiest jiggle as you delight in your reflection. 

“You like it?” Seungmin asks, coming closer to get a better look.  

“I love it. It’s so pretty” you beam, your gaze drawn to something shifting in the reflection.

Seungmin isn't watching you the same way he was anymore. There are notes of something reminiscent of the former innocence and awe but it’s something different entirely. It’s intense enough that you can feel the air shift in the room. The brown of his eyes seemingly grows deeper the longer he takes in your figure. 

“You can’t look at me like that” you say, your breathing growing shallow as you begin to lose yourself in what you see in the mirror. Watching him watching you. 

“You don’t want me to?” he asks, patiently awaiting your answer.

You don’t feel rushed or pressured. His patience is genuine but his eyes never leave you. They never leave you to question if that look of longing is dedicated to you or not.

You take a deep breath, making one last twirl to face the man that has your pulse racing a mile a minute. It isn’t just the way he watches you that has you on the verge of soaking through your new panties. It’s the way he sits in his chair, slightly tilted back, arms resting on his legs. It’s like he’s waiting for you, that little grin on his lips daring you to come take a seat. 

“I want you to” you say softly enough that you’re unsure if he heard you. 

Seungmin glides closer to you in his chair, stopping when his knees barely graze your legs. He leans forward, fingertips tracing the outline of your thighs, “You want me to what?”

As he asks the question, his breath tickles the surface of your skin and you shiver at the sensation.

“I want you to…aah” you gasp as his hands grip the tender flesh of your ass, pulling you in close enough for his lips to meet your stomach. He kisses it carefully and lovingly, taking his time to let his mouth and hands explore all of the softest, fluffiest parts of you. 

“You want me to…what?” he asks, tugging you down into his lap, his lips still wet from kissing your body. It makes it all the more tempting to kiss him. Surrendering to your impulses, you pull him into a kiss so ravenous and full of need that it leaves his head spinning in the best way. 

You were meant to come in here for a piercing. That was it. Now you’re straddling his lap with your fingers in his hair while his tongue’s halfway down your throat.

Slipping his hands back under your dress, he rests them on your hips, pressing you down into his lap to show you just how hard you've gotten him. Your panties are more soaked than you notice, making the material thin enough that you can feel it all. The thickness of his cock, the texture of his pants, grinding against your sensitive core, bumping your clit each time he raises his hips.

A moan escapes your lips. A weak, cute little thing that only makes him want you more. He breaks from the kiss, charting a course down your neck to tease the curves of your breasts with his tongue. 

“Who told you that you could be this sexy?” 

“I don’t know” you giggle, a small glimmer of your former shyness coming through, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he tilts you just enough to give him the space to stroke your clit through your panties, forcing more and more of those sensual moans to pour out of you. 

“Just promise me you won’t stop” Seungmin begs, tucking your panties to the side to pet your dripping slit. “Keep being this sexy…this fucking cute…this—fuck.” He sinks his fingers into your core and you swallow them up eagerly, clenching tightly around them. 

You throw your head back, your back arched in pleasure. You know without looking that he’s watching you again. You know he’s getting off on how your breasts bounce each time you grind down onto his fingers, your pussy so wet that his whole hand’s slick with your juices. 

Seungmin navigates your body like magic, picking up on your most tender spots and knowing just when to hit them to make you tremble the way you did when you first stepped into this room. 

Cradling his cheeks in your palms, you come face to face with him, and say to him in the sweetest tone, “Fuck me already.”

Taking you into his arms, he sweeps you up out of the chair, and sets you down on the edge of the table. 

“Oh god, I didn’t know you could do that” you gasp, stunned that he could pick you up. You knew that Seungmin was fit, something more than obvious by the toned body your eyes are graced with when he pulls his shirt off. But fit enough to pick you up like you’re nothing? Now that you didn’t expect. 

“What? You didn’t expect me to be strong? I’m hurt” he pouts, pretending to be offended but not too offended to help you wiggle your dress up over your head. 

You slide back on the table and right out of your panties. “Get up here and I’ll make it better.” 

You spread your legs and he’s right in between them, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he makes his way up to a pussy wet enough to glisten in the glow of the overhead light. He can’t resist having a taste, humming at the deliciousness of your arousal dancing on his taste buds.

The tip of his tongue meets your clit, flicking it slowly at first then picking up an unforgiving speed. Your hands find his hair again and you’re writhing on the table, choking back moans with your fingers tangled in the back of his head.

The slurping sounds that fill the room make you want to cum right now. In his mouth. Down his chin. All over that gorgeous face of his. And he’d welcome it happily. Beg you to give him more even. That’s how badly he wants you. How badly he’s always wanted you. 

Seungmin’s mouth deserts you unexpectedly, leaving your walls spasming and your stiffened bud twitching in his absence. “Add that to the list of things you can’t stop doing” he whispers, crawling on top of you.

You’re beautiful from any angle, there’s not one he can think of where you aren’t, but this has to be his favorite. You look so perfect underneath him. Right where you should be. 

“Getting eaten out?” you ask, planting a kiss on his shiny pink lips. 

“I meant tasting so good but…” he muses, the head of his cock throbbing at your entrance, “I can make sure that happens too.”

That first bit of contact, the very first time you feel his cock raw against your pussy, has you purring. Seungmin feeds you just the tip at first, stretching you out little by little, loving everything about how your body reacts to him. Running your nails across his back, you raise your hips, whining for more. 

“What are you whining for, baby?” Seungmin teases, giving you one inch after another, “Is this it? This what you want?” 

“Aah, yes, I want it. More please. Please” you plead, your eyes growing glossier the wider you’re stretched. 

It crosses his mind to spend more time teasing you just a little bit, it’s in his nature to be a bit of an asshole after all, but you feel way too good to play games with. You fit him like a glove and with every thrust he becomes more and more convinced that you must’ve been made for him. 

“You’re so perfect” he praises, massaging your curves, “Fuck, I love your body. Your face. Your everything.”

Soaking in the praise and the ecstasy of his length dragging along the ridges of your core, you could swear that you were glowing and, actually, you are. Glowing in his adoration and, courtesy of an accidental glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a fair share of your own. 

Seungmin catches you looking at yourself and smiles, pounding into you harder. “Don’t look away” he instructs, holding your head in place, “Have you ever seen how pretty you are when you cum?”

“N…no” you manage, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming at the tremors each thrust sends through your body. 

“Good, we’ll see it for the first time together then.”

Using his free hand, he grips one of your thighs, pressing your leg back so that he feels even deeper than before. The force is powerful enough that you feel it in your chest, vibrating down to your fingertips.

You can’t take your eyes off of your reflection, he won’t let you. Your body moves so beautifully when he’s fucking you that he needs you to see it how he does. You need to see the way your tits bounce and your hips jiggle as the tension builds up inside of you and you’re choking back moans with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Seungmin doesn’t need you to tell him how close you are. Your body gives him every cue he needs. The tightening of your muscles. The stuttering of your breath. The legs wrapped around his waist, making sure he keeps punishing your sweet spot, pushing you further and further to your breaking point. 

“Mmm, coming. I’m coming” you moan, letting your high wash over you. 

He kisses you on the cheek, refusing to let up on you. “Look at you, coming all over my cock” he coos, committing every face you make to memory, “Such a good girl.” 

The vision of you is almost too much. Your legs spread out, your brain all fuzzy, your body overstimulated, and your juices pooling on the table below. He can’t hold back anymore. He can’t ignore the tightness and the warmth of your velvet walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh fuck” he hisses, pulling out just in time to coat your swollen pussy in a thick glaze of his cum. It’s hot and tingly on your clit, tickling as it drips between your folds. 

You stroke his back, comforting him on his way down from his high and he does the same for you, his fingertips running up and down your thighs. The room falls into silence. Not an awkward one but one of comfort. One where you hold each other as long as you want. Not minding the heavy breathing or the sweaty bodies. Just enjoying being together before it dawns on the two of you that you’re both still at work. 

“Shit, shit, shit! The front desk is definitely on fire by now”  you fuss, rushing to throw your clothes back on. 

Seungmin’s not nearly in as much of a rush as you are. He’s having too much fun watching you freak out to care about if there's a bunch of agitated customers waiting up front or not. 

Grabbing you by the wrist, he spins you into a hug that calms you down in an instant. 

“So what if it is?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face, “I have to ask you something important first.”

“Important? Important like what?”

“Important like I know we don’t close until 2am tonight but could I see you after, maybe?"

You shrug, acting like you don’t care when you’re literally screaming on the inside, “I guess so.” 

“It’s like that? You ‘guess’ so?”

Seungmin slaps your ass and draws you into a kiss that has you ready to drop your panties for him for a second time. 

“Fine. I more than guess. I’d love to see you later” you blush, playfully pinching his cheeks, “I’ll wait for you up front then?”

He nods, getting one last squeeze out of you before turning you loose. “Let me see it one more time.”

Knowing exactly what he means, you take a step back to flash him your new piercing. 

“Yup, still very hot” he winks, casually leaning against the table he just fucked your brains out on. 

You smooth your dress back out, giggling as you skip back out onto the floor to find that everyone’s staring at you. Machines are buzzing but no one’s actually doing any work. Even the customers are staring at you waiting to see what happens next. 

Clearing your throat, you hold your head high, and march across the floor. You manage to hide your excitement just long enough to make it back to the hallway where your joyful squeals can flow freely. You can’t remember the last time you felt this excited about something. About someone. About yourself.

You aren’t too big for a belly button piercing. It looks sexy as fuck on you, you must admit. And you aren’t too big for Seungmin who happens to look sexy as fuck on you too. You feel beautiful the way you are, truly, and there’s a boy sitting at his station, too busy thinking about you to get anything done, that thinks so too. 

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, fluff, meeting, Simon Ghost Riley

Hello Lt

Summary:When her usually foul mouthed brother, a new cadet, talks to her so politely in their weekly call she gets worried and goes to see him.While searching for him on base she comes across a Lt who shows her around.Her brother is not thrilled to see her and even more so when he sees how much his grumpy Lt is being so kind to her.

WC:1.8k

Her brother is all the family she has left, they were never super close but now it's just them so they make efforts to stay in touch.

So now that her brother's gone and joined the military they have settled for a weekly call instead of weekly meal together. This usually just consists of taking turns bitching about their week or going on some odd tangent and running out of time.

Her brother's always been foul mouthed, in fact she is too. Her parents valued them having good morals and actions over not saying a few words. So when they talk together you'd think you're overhearing sailors.

So today when she calls with her brother and isn't greeted with a ‘sup bitch’ she worries. The whole call she's pacing her apartment mind reeling, waiting for his normal speech pattern to appear but nada, nothing. Something is wrong, she knew the military would change him but not this quick and if anything she expected some more creative swears to pop up, not for them all to disappear.

So the next weekend she takes the long drive up to see him. This requires face to face confrontation, gotta check and make sure he's still him, plus a long drive into that scenic area sounds nice.

Didn't take too much work to get a day pass for a visit and unlike other government facilities she wasn't on hold for hours.

The drive is nice, she blasts some music and enjoys her break from work and society. After a certain point once she breaks off onto a smaller highway she barely sees any other cars, it's rare to encounter peaceful moments like this so she tries to take it all in.

She arrives and pulls up to the gate house where 2 men in full gear check her car, one with a dog and another with a mirror that looks at the undercarriage. They don't alarm her, she just wishes it wasn't against the rules to pet military dogs. Next is her, she's directed to get out of the car and does, the dog sniffs her and a woman comes out of the guard house and pats her down, she's all clean. After she hands over her ID, signs the log in book, a guest badge,and is given a run down of the rules to follow on base along with a map.

The gate opens and she drives in following the map to the auxiliary parking lot. As she looks at the map to find out where to go she realizes she doesn't know where her brother is or would be.

She just shrugs and accepts that today she'll be getting in all her steps, including the ones she slacked on this month, they will all be gotten today. Luckily it's autumn and not blindingly hot or freezing cold.

First she just needs to get to the main building and away from the auxiliary parking lot Siberia, that alone takes a while. She passes by a few stern looking men whom she knows better than to ask for directions.

Once in the main building so she walks along reading the names of the offices, luckily everything is labeled here. Most of them don't seem like they could help direct her to her brother until she comes across ‘Instructors Offices’ that sounds like the right place.

She heads in and is disappointed, instead of finding some secretary who could help her, she finds more doors. This won't work. She can't go knock on some Officers door. Just as shes about to leave she hears a door open and turns to find a tall imposing man who looks just as surprised to see her.

“ Are you lost ?”

“Yes”

No point dancing around it, she may be in the right area but other than that she is lost. She just hopes this man will help and won't be too bothered by it.

He steps closer, looking her over from head to toe. It's a bit unnerving being studied and assessed by the tall man with a skull mask. She's no longer sure she will receive help, now it looks more like he'll throw her out.

“ where are you trying to get”

“I'm trying to find my brother, cadet Harris”

“We got quite a few Harris's”

“ Robert Harris”

“ He's out cutting the lawn”

“ oh okay… this was kinda a stupid idea anyways, ill just go”

“ No, no you came all the way out here for a reason, ill take you to see him”

“ Oh, no it's okay I don't want to take up your time sir”

“ it's Lt and its time for me to check on him anyways”

He holds the door for her and she awkwardly walks under his arm and through the door. His pace is quick and she does her best to keep alongside the man, but about 2 minutes in and he slows down making it easier on her thankfully.

“ So what's your mission?”

“ Oh well, my brothers all I got and something seems off on our last call and I came to check on him”

“ Off?”

“ yeah, he suddenly had manners and didn't curse once”

“ And this concerned you, that he treated you like a gentleman ?”

“ yeah it's a big shift in his personality”

They have now made it to the lawn and she blinks a few times unsure she's seeing this right. But he's out on the lawn in full gear cutting the grass with scissors with a dustpan and trash bag. And when he catches sight of the Lt he gets up instantly doing jumping jacks while singing some song in his pitchy, can't carry a tune voice.

“ This is all you're doing isn't it ?”

“ Yes”

“ impressive”

“I'm also responsible for his change in behavior, once im done with them all my men become gentlemen”

“Does that make you one too?”

“ absolutely”

“ truly a rare and dying breed”

[They are interrupted]

“ Sis, is that you?”

Her brother has finally noticed she is here and chatting with his Lt. The guys who never says extra words to anybody is now conversing with his sister, this is a head fuck and he can't do a thing about it.

“ Permission to approach Lt”

“ Granted”

He leaves the scissors behind and goes right up to her, he's about to speak but family squabbles shouldn't happen in front of the Lt. He grabs her should to direct her away but as soon as he touches her the Lts voice rings out.

“ Cadet manners”

Instantly his hand retracts and using a forced smile he politely ushers her down the path but he can feel the Lts eyes on him buring into his back.

“ Why are you here?”

“ I came to check on you and it was a nice drive, needed a break”

“ you can't just-”

“ obviously I can since I was allowed on base”

“ okay yeah but im good, you cant just come out here all the time”

“ I get it okay, you finally got away but don't think some distance will stop me from caring, we're all we got, so shut up jackoff and look like your a Lil bit glad to see me”

Simon understands why they stepped away, wanting space to converse privately, he respects that and turns to inspect the grass. But with his training he can't exactly ignore nearby sounds. He can't make out the low hushed sounds of his cadet but her voice rings clear, she wasn't trying to hide and the harsh pronunciation on ‘jackoff’ seemed purposefully ment for his ears too.

He'd only ever heard their conversations one-sided before from his formerly foul mouthed cadet but now he sees it wasn't just the cadet. They both speak like sailors.

This interaction has been so short yet he's fascinated by her. Bold, foul mouthed, playful, caring, determined, what a woman. He's seen other female visitors on base and they usually all fawn over Officers and bat their lashes asking anyone they see for directions acting like helpless lost things. He detests them and completely ignores them when they cross his path. She's the opposite, boldly trying to navigate base herself and even when she admitted she was lost, even when she was faced with me, she didn't cower and her voice never wavered.

The sound of a smack pulls his attention away from the grass and he gets to witness the beautiful sight of her dragging his cadet back into the yard by his helmet strap. She shoves him back to his knees and toes the scissors back to him. She huffs walking back to the walkway, slightly shaking her head with disapproval.

“How long has he been out here?”

“ 0400”

…

“4 am”

“And how much longer does he have?”

“Until its done”

“Perfect, should take a few more days”

“You approve?”

“he confessed and I completely approve, carry on shaping my brother”

She pulls the map out of her back pocket trying to find where she is so she can get back to the Siberia parking lot. As it turns out this place has a lot of big yards and she was also given a map with the least amount of details possible, leading to an annoyed huff and a sneeze from the grass clippings.

“Bless you”

Only seconds after she sneezed shes being handed a pack of tissues, the efficiency of this man and the pockets, he must have a tiny inventory of everything. Maybe he has snacks, she is very much regretting not stopping and getting some on the drive.

“Thank you, you really are prepared for everything aren't ya”

“ of course”

She debates taking the risk but decides against it, she's already interrupted him and taken up this man's time, she can't ask for snacks.

The silently appearance of a shadow snaps her out of her thoughts and she looks up to find the Lt standing just behind her shoulder looking down at her map. It's unnerving how such a large man can move so silently without notice, is that a trained skill or something he's always had?

He holds up his arm, strategically over her map and a bit overdramatically checking his watch. A deep ‘hmmm’ sound rumbles through his chest behind her.

“ it's time for lunch”

With that stated he steps away from her and faces himself on the path towards the mess hall. He pivots to look at her noting the mild confusion with a dash of amusement written on her features.

“ Well, are you coming?”

“ Are you inviting me to lunch Lt?”

“ Yes, I am”

“ I accept”

She marches up next to him and off they go leaving her brother behind.She's not excited about the prospects of a military lunch but the unusual company makes this a much more enticing than the food itself.

[Cut to brother]

Wait, what the fuck, what is My Lt doing? Why is he so close to her? Is this him flirting? Wait, no, is it working? No, no ,no please, no. I'll never live this down. Please just be walking her out, if they are seen together this will spread like wildfire and eventually everyone will know it's my sister with the Lt.

Tag list

@danielle143

[ladykailitha]

Heartbreak in Overdrive Part 1

Yeah, I know this is supposed to be Spellbound, but like this has five chapters in backlog, and it really needs to be let out before it breaks containment.

The title comes I'll Wait by Van Halen, as I wanted something to do with fashion and @bookworm0690 really came in clutch with these lyrics.

Summary: Eddie is a top model know for his temper tantrums. Steve is war photographer coming out of a traumatic experience by doing fashion photography. When hotheaded Eddie runs up against Steve's cool under pressure attitude, sparks fly.

Also I tend to make up fictional brands so I don't have to keep running for google every time I need a brand name for something.

~

Eddie Munson fought hard to be where he was. He had climbed up from the literal fucking gutter to being a top model. Fuck that bitch for ruining that title in the minds of the masses, making it meaningless, but he earned it.

He had full creative control over every little aspect of his shoots and everyone knew it. They knew what they were getting when they hired him. Every part of him was what they fucking paid for. His whole glam metal look was a package deal. His long hair, his tattoos, his style. That’s what they got when they hired him.

His current gig was St. John Whiskey, they were trying to appeal to the younger party crowd with their new canned cocktails. Eddie had tried them and they weren’t half bad. If someone served them at rave he went to, he would happy down several of the damn things. But he wouldn’t ask for them. Like ever.

Eddie briefly wondered who was going to shoot the ad, because they hadn’t told him before he signed on the dotted line. Not that it mattered, whoever they got would try to fob it off to someone else. That little detail made the little demon in Eddie curl up and purr. That companies would trip over themselves to get Eddie to model for them, while the actual photographers were fighting over who had to photograph him.

He arrived on set which was made up to look like a club, there were about a dozen extras all tarted up in club gear. To the right was his hair and makeup artist, Vickie Cameron, to his left was his manager next to a row of clothes that Eddie would choose from for the shoot.

Tucked behind a little partition were three photographers; Jonathan Byers, Argyle Ramirez, and Tommy Hagan. They were all playing roshambo. They were playing several games before Tommy groaned.

“Fuck!” he cursed and then walked over to get his kit. His assistant Carol immediately started setting up the lights and shit from his stuff while Argyle and Jonathan celebrated their win.

“Hello, boys,” Eddie said sweetly, causing everyone nearby to jump in the air.

Jonathan had the decency to look embarrassed, Argyle just grinned at him. Tommy on the other hand, his expression soured.

“Munson,” he said tersely. “Keep the tantrums to a minimum and maybe both of us will fucking survive this day.”

Eddie’s face transformed into a feral grin. “Do you job properly and there won’t be a tantrum to be had. Be the hack you usually are and I make no promises.”

Tommy surged forward, likely to start swinging, but Jonathan held him back. Eddie batted his eyelashes at him innocently, then he turned on his heel and made straight to Chrissy and wardrobe. Hopefully they had something good in there he could wear.

Eddie walked over to Chrissy as she was separating some shirts for him.

“They want a dance club vibe,” she said as she handed him four shirts, two jackets, and three pairs of pants. “Everything here has your style but with that club flare they’re looking for.”

He smirked. “Someone, somewhere is learning.”

She swatted at his ass. “Go get dressed, dick. Then hurry back so we can get your accessories picked out so we can get Vickie started on your hair and makeup.”

Eddie nodded and took his prizes to the dressing room. The first jacket was a blueish-black racer jacket and the other was a suit jacket with black sequins embroidered in a brocade pattern. The shirts were all button ups. Of the two black options, one was a soft cotton and the other was satin. The white shirt was of the same material of the first black shirt and the remaining shirt was a silky grey. The pants ranged from tight leather to ripped denim with a tuxedo pant thrown in for funsies.

He tried on several combinations before he settled on the leather jacket, the silver shirt, and tight leather pants. He padded back out to Chrissy who had an array of watches, necklaces, bracelets, chains, and shoes.

He immediately pulled out the shiny combat boots and started layering the jewelry just the way he liked it. Once he was satisfied, he sat down at Vickie’s chair and flipped his hair. “Miss DeMille, I’m ready for my close up!”

Vickie laughed. “Let’s get this pretty face even prettier for the camera.” She got to work on his hair first, washing and conditioning it to take the hair products it would take to tame Eddie’s famous curls.

By the time he was finally ready, so was Tommy and Carol.

She eyed him and then nodded approvingly. He matched the vibe they were going for, but stood out in a fashionable way.

“Ready when you are, princess,” Tommy sneered, pulling out a camera from one of his bags.

Eddie grinned at him and then got into position. Tommy called out poses and shots while Carol managed the lenses, cameras and filters. Things were going well until they weren’t.

“Can someone please tell me why this asshole extra keeps standing in my fucking light?!” he growled.

Tommy stood up from where he had been crouched on the floor. “There is no one in your light, I’m literally taking the pictures and there is not single shade over you.”

“Not that light, dumbass,” Eddie snarled, “the light from the disco ball. It’s supposed to be glittering on my face to bring in the club vibe but some asshole is literal blocking it.”

Tommy went through the memory card and went back as far twenty frames. “Shit, he’s right.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m right, so are you going to get this asshole to stop mugging the shots or am I going to have to lock myself in my dressing room until you do?”

“I don’t even know who it is,” Tommy snapped back. “How am I supposed to find a needle in a fucking haystack?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “The disco ball is there!” He pointed behind where he was sitting at a table and to the left. “So it’s obviously NOT the people to my right or in the foreground! Use your fucking head!”

He stood up and stalked toward dressing room, leaving a path of destruction in his wake of knocked over chairs and people glaring at him as he pushed by them.

It took Tommy and Carol about an hour to find out who had been blocking the disco ball’s light and coach Eddie out his dressing room.

All the news articles blew up that Eddie Munson threw a fit on the set of his most recent photo shoot again. Talking about what a diva he was and how unhinged he was.

Chrissy sat him down to talk about the articles. “You probably shouldn’t have thrown the chairs, let’s be fair. But all the pictures that were taken after you came back were the best shots Tommy took.”

Eddie sneered. “They were in the way and I didn’t throw them, I tried pushing them out the way and they got tangled up and they fell. I just needed to be somewhere else in that moment or more than just chairs would have been flying.”

Chrissy sighed. She knew. She knew better than anyone how much space Eddie needed when he got into his head.

“Well,” she said, “we’ll ride it out like we always do. If Tom Cruise can come out of coach jumping with a career intact, you will come of this one just fine, too.”

Eddie threw his head head back and buried his hands into his hair. He counted backward from twenty until he got his thoughts under control.

“I wish Carol was the photographer,” he said mournfully. “She actually seems to understand the artistry behind taking the perfect shot.”

“And we both know she’s never going to a chance,” Chrissy said ruefully, rolling her eyes. “Because she’s a woman. But it wasn’t her who found the extra who was getting in the way of the shots.”

That made Eddie sit up. “Yeah, then who did?”

Chrissy shrugged. “Some friend of Tommy’s who was visiting. He’s some hot shot war photographer that Tommy met in art school and was in town for a couple of days for some award show.”

“Maybe hire him next time,” Eddie said with a snort.

~

When Eddie heard that it was going to be Argyle Ramirez doing the shoot for the Eva Laurent cologne that he was mildly annoyed. He wasn’t the incompetent asshole that Tommy was, but he was far too laid back for his tastes.

Eddie got to the set which was in Argyle’s studio. Everything was white and would be lighted to the appropriate colors. In the middle was a single black leather chair; one of those overstuffed kind.

There were about a half dozen people milling around and that brought him up short.

“Um...” he said glancing over at Chrissy briefly. “I thought it was going to be a closed set?”

Argyle looked up at him with that hazy, dopey smile of his. “The man of the hour has arrived. Awesome!” He looked around at the other people in the room. “Don’t worry my man, once you’re ready to drop robe, most of these people will have cleared out.”

“Most?” Eddie asked, trying not squirm.

“Sure,” Argyle said, blinking at him in confusion. “I’ve got to have my assistants to move things around and shit. But everyone else will have cleared out.”

Eddie bit on his lip. He couldn’t argue with that. Though he had tried. Several times before. Whenever he pushed back on being naked in front of strangers he was told that he was baring his ass to the world, what was a few extra people on the day of the shoot.

He went to go get his hair and makeup done, with Vickie trying to ease her nerves but talking about her long distance girlfriend who also did hair, but always needed help with her smokey eye makeup.

Eddie let her chatter wash over him and he relaxed, getting out of his head and into his body. His body was his job, his sanctuary, and his weapon all rolled into one. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, releasing the last bit of tension in his shoulders.

When he came out of hair and makeup he was pleased to find there were only two other people there besides Argyle. One knelt by a bag, while the other stood by the lights.

That was more than he would have liked, but he had to let it slide. He knew that there were some photographers who had full on teams and all they did was take the pictures. But Eddie had it in his rider that if they wanted him to model for them they couldn’t use those photographers.

He was about down to his underwear when Argyle came bursting into the room. He shrieked and pulled his pants over his crotch.

“Don’t you knock?!” Eddie roared in outrage, clutching his pants close to his body as a shield.

Argyle held his hands up and backed out. “Sorry, dude, I thought hadn’t gotten undressed yet.” He closed the door.

Eddie could tell the man was waiting awkwardly outside so he hurried to get undressed and throw on the black satin robe he was given. He tied the sash tightly around his waist and slid the slippers on his feet. He slowly opened the door and peeked out to make sure it was just Argyle waiting for him.

He stepped out into the hallway and Argyle looked up from his phone.

“You ready now?” he asked.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but if you had been like a minute later or two minutes sooner, I wouldn’t have been in the middle of getting undressed.”

“I’m going to be seeing you naked in five minutes anyway,” Argyle groused. “I really don’t see what the problem is.”

Eddie bit his tongue. He wanted to say the difference was consent, but it seemed like nothing would penetrate the thick fog of weed smoke around the photographer’s head. He just strolled past, his head held high.

Once he had warmed up enough he dropped the robe and the assistant in charge of the lenses rushed forward to grab it.

He sprawled on the leather chair, the material sticking to his ass.

After a few minutes of struggling to get comfortable he finally snapped.

“Is there anyway we can put something down on the chair so my skin isn’t being peeled off with every move I make?”

One of the assistants, Eddie couldn’t be assed to care which one, rushed forward with a long golden drape and laid it over the leather chair. Then when Eddie sat back on it she draped it over his body artistically, making the shot more provocative and less in your face nudity.

“Good thinking, Karla,” Argyle huffed as he knelt to take the next shot. “Pull his hair out a little bit so that it lays flat over the drape.”

Karla hurried to do as she was told. The shoot went more smoothly after that, but he could tell Argyle was annoyed for not having thought of the drape first.

Eddie didn’t spend the whole shoot covered by the drape, but it added something special to the ad that the Eva Laurent people loved.

But Argyle told everyone that Eddie had been reluctant to disrobe in front of people and that’s why the drape was added.

It pissed Eddie off, but with people wanting to believe the worst of him, trying to refute it was like pissing in the wind.

But he made sure to tell the Eva Laurent people that it was Karla’s idea for the drape on his way out, just to fuck with him back.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: NINE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chaotic-waffle

[httpiastri]

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

[mayasaurusss]

More Shauna fluff from you would make the sun come out bright and shiny

Hello anon! I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but I wanted to get it out before tomorrow's finale and it was a bit hard to write, because even if I already did it before, 'Shauna' and 'fluff' don't exactly fit together, but I tried to make it work!

It's this really a oneshot, or more of a character study? I don't know either, but anyways, I hope you'll enjoy!

Imagine you're Shauna's significant other instead of Melissa.

She had always been interested in you as a person, but it's not until after the crash that she gets to actually know you.

It's not like her to just walk up to someone and say "Hey, you know, we don't actually know each other and I thought you were pretty interesting. Wanna talk?" or something like that, so she just, very unsubtly, starts to pry herself into your space more and more.

Each night, at dinner, she sits a little closer to you. Each morning she wakes up when you do, sits by the fire as you make breakfast with whatever scraps you've found. Each day, she makes the unbearable effort to actually talk to you, and not to just glare at you from a distance.

And after a while, you actually become friends. You talk to each other, share your secrets, your passions and in little time, you start to notice a shift in Shauna's behaviour. She smirks a smile that has you melting -and she knows it-,she eats you with her eyes, she looks at you with something primal in her eyes.

But Shauna changes after Jackie's death.

It's so sudden, so cruel and unfair that it shakes you and everyone's perception of what reality is now, of what life is going to be, of what you have done.

You know you can't help Shauna. No one, nobody can understand what she is going through.

But that won't stop you from trying. Why wouldn't you?

You let her cry into your chest every night, you hold her while she wails, you let her hurt you as she desires. That change in her, from a

-probably barely sane- woman to a time bomb, ready to explode and lash out at any moment, upsets you to your core.

The first kiss you share lacks any trace of softness: it's harsh, full of teeth and shoves, of spilled blood and struggle.

She was never capable of love. Loving someone normally, as genuinely as Jackie loved her is something Shauna Shipman is unable to do.

But that doesn't mean that she doesn't love you. Of course she does, but her love language is not begin all cute and giggly like a schoolgirl -not at least out here-; no, her love is expressed in other ways.

That's why, when one day, while enjoying yourself by the river while Shauna sharpens a stick, you fall and twist your ankle on the slippery rocks, her first reaction is to run to you and immediatley calling you an idiot.

The river flows around your leg, traces of the blood you spilt on a rock and branching out in the water. Even beneath the natural debris and the movement of the tide, you can see the swelling on your ankle popping up. It disgusts you, but the only thing you can think about now it's how fucking much it hurts. "Shit!" when you slipped down and cried in pain, Shauna ran over to you before her mind could even realize that.

"Can't you be fucking careful?!" she gets out of her flannel, leaving her in a dirty shirt, and wraps it on your wet skin, making sure to tie it as carefully as she can above the swelling.

It hurts.

It hurts like a fucking bitch, but you bear it, pressing your teeth down your bottom lip hard and bite, blood dribbling down "I'm- I'm sorry".

She wants to tell herself that she is angry, that you now are a liability to her and the whole group, but the truth is, and deep down she knows that she got scared.

There's light in her eyes as she realizes that. You see it briefly, a scared flash passes through her, and when you think it'll be smited down, it doesn't, and stays with her until finally you arrive at camp.

At night, you sleep alone in your tent.

Except you don't sleep, at all. You move against the handmade covers, against the naked earth, trying to find any kind of relief from the pain.

Your ankle is hurting, really fucking bad, and all you want to do is to break the bone apart, so at least you'll feel numb.

But that would be the stupidest thing to do, especially out here: a broken bone is a death sentence.

So instead, you cry and moan in pain, finding solace in voicing it out.

Shauna doesn't sleep too. Maybe it's because she's worried or maybe it's because you're crying and she can hear you, but nevertheless, that night she walks out into the cold.

"What am I even doing...?" she asks herself, but is unable to answer. What is she doing?

Inside, nestling close to the earth, there's you, writing in pain.

She's used to like pain. She likes to see other people crying, to see them spiral down the same pain she went through. But this pain stings, almost hurts her. She doesn't like it.

You're not scared when she crouches next to you, hugging your body from behind. You can feel her nose pressed against your neck, her legs propping yours, her heavy breath on your skin.

And what she says next makes you smile, and you know that even if it's laced with a fake anger, it’s her way of saying ‘I love you’.

“You’re so fucking stupid”.

[sturniqlo]

SOMETHING YOU ARENT- CHRIS STURN

summary: Y/n wants something serious with Chris, but Chris only likes the thought of having someone next to him.

cw: angst, cursing, crying, toxic!chris (he gets slapped)

an: based on this ask (i changed a few things tho), very short, honestly it's a blurb :/

masterlist

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"Hey, where's Chris?" Y/n says, as she comes up the stairs from Chris' room. She had arrived about an hour ago, laying in Chris' bed as he gamed in his corner. However, while she was in the bathroom, Chris had left. "I actually don't know." Matt says from his spot on the couch. "Oh, well, I think I'm heading out. It's getting pretty late."

That encounter happened about a month ago. Things between Chris and Y/n only went downhill from there. Chris would leave to who knows where half of the time Y/n went to visit him. They were both messing around with each other for about five months at this point. The girl wanted something serious but, Chris didn't let that happen. He wanted to stay with his things were. So that he'd be able to do the things he was doing behind her back. At the end of the day, he had someone to go back to. He knew she wouldn't leave him, she was in to deep. Or so he thought.

When Chris would leave randomly, she was always embarrassed to walk up the stairs to retrieve her stuff and walk past his brothers. They always gave her a smile of pity. She hated it. But, she never left him. Until, she found out what he was doing.

"Hey, where are you? I thought you were coming over?" She says into her phone. In the background she can hear loud music and people talking. "I got caught up in the meeting." Chris says unbothered. "A meeting? You mean a party." She scoffs. "Do you not believe me?" He defends himself. "Just- nevermind. I'll see you another day." Y/n hangs up the phone and sighs in defeat. Trying to not let her tears fall. She angrily gets up off of her couch and goes straight to her kitchen. She had spent hours making them a dinner and baking treats only for Chris to go to a fucking party.

Grabbing what was supposed to be Chris' plate she goes to the trash and scrapes off the food into the garbage. "Asshole." She mutters. Going to her sink she places the glass plate down gently. She decides to eat dinner later. Y/n changes into some comfy clothes and heads to her bed to scroll for a while. Opening instagram, she sees one of her mutual friends she has with Chris posted something on their story.

It shows their friend and a couple of people taking shots. However, in the corner, she spots a bright light blue hoodie that belongs to Chris. She replays it and sees that he's coming out of a room with a blonde girl fixing her smudged lipstick and fixing her excuse of a skirt and Chris fixes his pants and runs a hand through his hair. It was posted an hour ago.

Y/n begins to sob. How could he? She knew he wasn't ready to commit, the reasons? She didn't know. But now she did. He wanted to be a 'single' man. He wanted to fuck other girls. She now knew that Chris never broke it off with her because he knew that she was too attached to him and wouldn't leave his side.

Suddenly her doorbell rings. Rubbing her tears she goes out and opens it only to reveal Chris in the same hoodie as the video. "Leave." She says, not letting him speak a word. "Hello to you too. Why you cryin'?" He lets himself in closing the door and gently grabs her chin to kiss her. As his lips touch hers she nearly gives in, nearly. "No, stop it! You don't get to kiss me!" She leans away and pushes his face away. "What wrong with you tonight? Thought you wanted to have a date night here." Chris argues. "You don't think I don't notice those hickies on your fucking neck? That lipstick on your mouth? The fact that you reek of cheap perfume? I know you're fucking other bitches behind my back."

Chris' face drops but, he tries to play it off. "What are you talking about?" He suddenly feels a sting on his left cheek. "Fuck you, Chris! We're done! I'm done following you around like a fucking puppy! I'm tired of the lies! If you didn't want to commit to me you should've let me go instead of having sex with god know how many other girls."

"You're being a fucking baby! Childish, even. We're not together, okay? We're fuck buddies." Y/n only grows angrier. "Really?" She pathetically laughs. "Seems like you have many fuck buddies then. I guess losing one won't hurt right? Because I'm done with you. Get out of my house." She tries to stay calm. "Don't be like that, Y/n. I'm sure you've fucked other guys too." Y/n moves behind him and opens her front door. "Leave." She makes eye contact with him and sees he grows furious. He walks out the door and grabs the door knob and slams the door behind him.

All Y/n can do is lock her door and slide her back down burying her head in her knees.

It had been two weeks since they both saw each other. Chris grew antsy at the fact that Y/n wasn't answering her calls or texts. He thought she would eventually break the silence and come running back but, he was wrong. Both Matt and Nick had noticed that Y/n hasn't been over their house in well over two weeks. They questioned Chris about it and all he told them was 'she'll come around.' During his alone time in his room, he missed her. Although he never admitted it out loud, he missed her so much.

Over the two weeks, he had realized that what he did to her was wrong. He betrayed her trust and he hates himself for it. She was someone he's never had in life ever. She's the most kind, loving, and caring person ever. And he took her for granted.

He grew impatient. Tonight, he grabbed his home keys, phone and wallet and walked to her home which was a fifteen minute walk. He had texted her but, like always she didn't answer. Walking to her house, he thought of all of the possibilities that could happen. She could forgive him and they can return to normal again, or she could slap him again and tell him to get out of her life and not want to do anything with him ever again.

Knocking on her door, he waits a few minutes before he hears the door unlocking. "Chris- what are you doing here." Y/n opens the door and sees him. Chris takes in her appearance, her hair is in a messy bun, and she's wearing her lounging clothes. Something she always wore around him. "You've been ignoring me." He says lowly. "Didn't I tell you we're done?" She scoffs, opening the door more so she can stand in the doorway. "Baby, you can't mean that. I'm sorry, ma." Chris says, going to take her hands in his but she moves them behind her back. His heart breaks.

"Chris, I- I can't do this right now. I don't care how sorry you are. I'm sorry you just noticed how you've been towards me. But, I want something serious. And you're not ready for that, maybe you don't even want that. I want someone who loves me for me. Someone who won't go behind my back and sleep with other people, knowing that I'm waiting for them back at their home. I really did like you, Chris. So much. So fucking much. But what you did to me is so unforgivable. Maybe you don't understand where I'm coming from. But, I just can't be with you, if you're going to be like this." Chris can only listen and feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. "Y/n." He whispers.

"I think you should go." She whispers, trying to blink her tears away. "Y/n, please. I- I love you." Her tears escape her eyes. "Chris, no. You don't. You love the idea that I was always there for you no matter what after you came back from who knows where. You love that I would always follow you around, no matter how long it had been since you've spoken a word to me. You love that we would always go back to normal after fighting. But, you don't love me. You don't. You only love the things that benefit you that come from me. And I don't want that." Chris feels a lump forming in his throat after hearing her words. "Just go, please." She pleads, not looking at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll go. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be."