#i just need to shove them into a room together idk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

distantdarlings · 6 months ago

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HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout , @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33 , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @abaker74 (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a DM! Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #fem reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theo nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire

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radjoy · 1 month ago

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i have seen so many “hypergamy/it girl/soft life/luxury” posts about women not making decisions in a relationship and leaving it up to their bf phrased as “relaxing into your feminine energy” and since you all seem to be confused on the matter, i’m going to clear this up.

The reason that you find making decisions more mentally taxing than your bf seems to is not because you have some mystical feminine energy and he has some spooky masculine one that makes him a better leader. it’s because he isn’t considering consequences or evaluating risk/reward. simple as. you’re putting thought and intention into how you life your life, he’s coming from a place of fear and ego and???? idk maybe vibe and hoping everything comes up sunny side. you’d have equally valid luck just consulting a magic 8 ball for all your decisions.

men do not think things through. i work in an emergency room. all day every day: why are you missing a finger, sir? because there was something stuck in the lawnmower and he forgot that lawnmowers have blades. why do you look like ground beef, sir? he was going 104 in a 55 to show off his new sports car. why is there a miniature can of WD-40 up your ass, sir? you never get an explanation for those ones. women always think their boyfriend wouldn’t be the type that decides to shove something up his ass but let me tell you. let me tell youuuuuu. these men will surprise you. i have seen men from all walks of life decide to give it a whirl with something completely unsafe for anal penetration, then seem so confused to find themselves in the ER.

like 97% of penis amputations are from squamous cell carcinoma, an extremely slow-growing form of skin cancer that is usually completely easy to remove with a tiny little excision. so why on earth would we ever need to amputate? because MEN REFUSE BIOPSIES. men walk out AMA because they’re scared of the scalpel going near their junk and can’t pull it together. men will ignore a growing red crusted lesion on their junk for a full decade before giving into their wife’s begging and going to a doctor, who tells them they’re going to have to cut his dick off now.

are you hearing me? men will calmly make decisions that lead to them getting their dick cut off in ten years. do not let him lead you into dick cut off levels of credit card debt.

#radical feminism #radfem #hypergamy #it girl #soft life #terfs do touch

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sovksluv · 8 months ago

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seven minutes in hell

𖤐 . pairing - fratboy!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

𖤐 . summary - a stupid game of spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven gone… wrong?

𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI🔞, bad interpretations of frat parties/boys

𖤐 . word count - 1014

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n - i randomly got this idea and was very motivated idk why. anyways, hope you enjoy !!

“you are so. mph~ infuriating,” you struggled out.

he chuckled, speeding up his erratic movements, forcefully slamming your body into the wall with each thrust.

“yeah, keep saying that like my dick- fuuck~ like my fuckin’ dick isn’t in ya’ right now,” Luke teased, slowing his movements to add to the annoyance, protruding a half whimper-groan from you.

he scoffed, a dumb smirk on his face as his hips resumed their work, thrusting his fat cock into you even faster — desperate to finish you both off before the timer finished.

his sudden pounding forced a choked moan from you, panic flooding your eyes. Luke’s smirk widened, he motioned to one of your hands with his head.

you took the sign, gratefully covering your mouth the second his calloused fingertips met your clit, which erupted yet another squeak from you.

he practically had you bent in half against the closet wall, the tight space not leaving much room for the two of you.

you were at some stupid frat party — which you did not want to go to. your friend Silena insisted you needed some time out, and just about dragged you to said party.

with a few drinks in, you were grumbling as she dragged you to a cliché game of seven minutes in heaven, consisting of a circle of other students all drunk or high or both.

despite your tipsy state, you recognized a few people;

Charles Beckendorf — aka Silena’s never-ending crush that is too sweet for his own good.

Clarisse La Rue — aka the girl that typically wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near a frat house, yet here she was.

Chris Rodriguez — aka the lame douchebag with hopeful heart eyes towards our dear Clarisse, and who also happens to be best friends with the boy that’s pounding your pussy into oblivion.

of course, the second it’s your turn to spin the bottle, it lands on probably the worst person in the group — Luke Castellan.

thank the Gods that the blaring lights of the party hid the blush on your cheeks, with a little help from the annoyed groan that left your mouth.

Silena giggled into her red solo cup, pushing you to stand up next to Luke, who was already standing, a smirk on his stupid face.

and that’s how you got here — folded in half against the closet wall, knees by your face and calves hanging over his shoulders, desperately screaming into your hand as Luke drilled his cock into you.

the fact that you got in this position during a seven minute game should’ve been on your mind, but the feeling of his cock head poking around your cunt had your eyes rolling back, head empty.

you wrapped your other arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. uncovering your mouth and wrapping your other arm around him, your lips were close — but not touching.

you moaned into his mouth, feeling his warm breath as he pounded you, his own groans only fueling your arousal.

your eye trailed up, left hand coming up to knock away his stupid backwards cap, fingers immediately running through his curls, pulling and scratching at them.

he almost whimpered, lips trailing around your collarbone, moving up with kisses and leaving marks in his path.

“w-why do you we-ar that stupid c-cap?” you stuttered out, moaning breathlessly as his lips ceased their attack.

he chuckled again at you, hips stuttering and eyes fluttering. “will you shut up? m’ trying to fuck you.”

you moaned out, head falling back against the wall, his cock and fingers together draw you closer to the edge.

warmth spills and spreads through your bodies, feeling the effect of both your orgasms hitting at the same time.

you forced Luke’s head to yours, shoving your lips on his as you moaned in each other's mouths, sloppy and wet kisses following his slowing thrusts.

Luke carefully let you down, a hand on your waist to keep you up right. he hastily pulled up his jeans, putting himself away as he helped you redress.

you kept your arms around his neck as he pulled your panties up, fixing your dress and your hair.

face flushed, you watch as he bent down to get his cap, instead placing it backwards on your head, laughing at your annoyance.

moving to take it off, he gently grabbed your wrist.

“keep it.”

you raised your eyebrows but listened, lowering your hand. you went to speak again but were interrupted by a knock at the closet door.

in frantic movements, Luke had you shoved against the wall, breathing heavily as his head was turned towards the door, his tall frame blocking you from being seen if it were to open.

“seven minutes are up!” shouted Chris through the door, rustling could be heard from the other side as he moved away the chair that locked it. “you guys can come out now!”

Luke turned towards you, using his finger tips to tilt your chin up. with his fingers still touching you, he slightly bent down to capture your lips again in a searing kiss.

when he pulled away you were left almost breathless as he took your hand, opening the door and leading the two of you out.

whistling was heard from the game circle as you guys exited the smaller space. instead of going back to your spot next to Silena, Luke pulled your sore body down with him, sitting you right on his lap.

you made eye contact with Silena, who raised her eyebrows with a knowing smirk on her face.

everyone in the group knew what you had done in the closet, the stumbling of your walk, flushed face, and Luke’s stupid cap on your head hinted at it.

also the fact that you were sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder with his arms around your middle and his hickeys littered on your neck.

no one said anything though, they all just smirked into their own cups, continuing to play the game.

you still hated frat parties though. just maybe not this one.

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withwritersblock · 15 days ago

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Those Eyes

~Those Eyes by New West~

Author's Note: idk! tehe as always italics are flashbacks Summary: Y/N surprises Luke after a long few months near the end of his rookie season Warnings: implied smut, swearing Word Count: 3,887 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

The exhaustion on his face was heartbreaking enough. The loss was probably one of the hardest games she’s ever watched. The second half the roster left the ice within the first two seconds she knew it was going to be a long night.

They fought hard and almost tied it late but the game ended in a disappointed loss. The camera panned towards Luke dart towards the tunnel with his head hanging low. Her shoulders hung low as she dropped her head into her hands.

She wanted nothing more than to hug him and hold him.

A groan fell from her lips as she took a deep breath. She stood up and wrapped her dark blue blanket around her body as she stumbled out of her bedroom. The blanket was draped acrossed her shoulders as she snuggled the ends against her chest.

“How’d it go?” her roommate and best friend, Hannah, said as she saw Y/N walk out of the room.

“Bad,” she let out as she wandered towards the kitchen, in desperate need of an alcoholic drink. “Luke looked so tired,” her voice cracked slightly.

“Shit,” Hannah muttered as she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.

The party was in full swing and Luke spent most of the night trying to find Y/N. She promised that she was going to be there but not until after eleven. It was well past eleven and he couldn’t find her.

Y/N texted him ten minutes ago and he was on the hunt for her instantly.

They were in a new relationship, only a few weeks but he was desperate to find her. There was barely any room to move or breathe. Shoving through the crowd, he kept shouting apologize yet no one seemed fazed by his efforts. Shimming his shoulders to the beat of the song every time he squeezed through a group of people to pretend like he was having a good time.

He would be having a good time if he could find her. Pressing his lips together he scanned the party. He was taller than majority of the crowd, so it was easy to scan the crowd. He brought his beer towards his lips as he bobbed his head to the music. Eyeing the crowd, he saw his teammates happily dancing with random girls they met just that night.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he continued to scan the crowd, a couple of girls met his gaze. Smiling or shyly looking away, none of them were even close to his girl.

After a few seconds, he finally found her. It was as if time stopped once he saw her, she slowly turned her gaze towards him. Smiling widely towards him, she leaned away from the wall she was against. His heart jumped into his throat as he smiled widely.

He began stumbling through the crowd, still shouting apologizes as he squeezed through a large crowd of his teammates. He looked up hoping to see her but he couldn’t, until he felt a tap against his arm. Spinning around, he met her gaze.

“Hey!” he shouted as he admired the way her lips curled up into a grin.

“I didn’t realize how crazy this was going to be!” she shouted back. Luke nodded as he rested his hand onto her lower back, subconsciously pulling her towards him.

Leaning down, he whispered against her ear, “Do you want to stay out here or go somewhere quieter?”

He pulled away, meeting her gaze. She pressed her lips together as she waved her finger towards him. He leaned back down as she delicately took a hold of his jaw. “Can we get a drink before we disappear?” she pulled back, her hand still holding his jaw. He immediately nodded. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her towards the kitchen.

They bumped into a handful of his teammates and they were forced into conversations for a while before was able to get a drink. Even after she got her drink, she nearly finished it before they disappeared into his room.

He shut the door and the music instantly got quieter but it was still shaking the floor slightly. Luke smiled awkwardly towards her as he wiped his hand across his nose. She took another sip of her drink as she kept looking towards him.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Luke asked as he stepped towards her, taking a hold of her waist. He stole the drink from her and placed it onto the night stand beside his bed. He stumbled back towards his bed. She raised her eyebrows suspiciously, “A Friends marathon,” he let out as his legs hit the back of the bed, nearly forcing him to fall onto his back.

She barked out a laugh as she rolled her eyes playfully, “I could always watch that,” she mumbled as she climbed over him, laying beside him. He looked towards her, smiling softly as he began to pull up the TV show.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbled as she happily laid in his arms.

Y/N took a hold of two White Claws and walked towards the living room. Hannah eyes widened as she held out her hand excitedly for the drink. Y/N tossed it towards her. They both popped open their drinks as she sat down beside Hannah. She draped the blanket over the both of them.

“You know, spring break is next week. You should go visit him,” Hannah offered before she brought the drink towards her lips. Y/N tilted her head back and let out a groan.

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N mumbled as she tilted her head against the top of the couch. Shutting her eyes, an image of Luke on the bench. Defeat written all over his features.

“You know who does,” Hannah expressed, “Your boyfriend.”

“I am not going to ask him for money,” she let out before she brought the drink towards her lips. Hannah let out a long dramatic sigh as she smacked her hand against the couch dramatically.

“It’s not asking him for money if it’s to visit him,” Hannah let out. Y/N pouted her lips as she tilted her head against the top of the couch. “Sounds like he really needs it,” Hannah urged.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “I need it too.” Y/N shifted her gaze towards the TV to see a movie on the screen. It was one of her favorites and it was one of the new ones on Netflix.

Hannah shifted her gaze towards Y/N, frowning slightly before glancing back towards the screen. Hannah clenched her jaw as she frowned slightly. Y/N pulled her phone from her hoodie pocket, glancing at her phone screen to see a photo of Luke and herself.

It was a photo from one of his frat parties, the lights were dark and it was nearing the end of the party. They were both asleep on the half broken couch, they were facing one another, Luke’s hands were wrapped around her body. One of his hands were on the base of the neck and his other was low on her hip. Her arms were around his upper body. In the photo, Dylan was tossing a blanket over them in the live photo and Mark was giggle as he took the photo.

Blinking rapidly, she felt her eyes start to well up in tears. She turned off the screen as she tilted her head back up to meet Hannah’s eye. There was a look in her eye that felt as though she was right.

After a few seconds, her phone started to ring. Pulling her phone up to see Luke was calling her.

She shot up, staring at his contact photo for a moment. It was a screenshot of him on FaceTime after he scored his first goal. He was smiling and laughing and so happy. It’s been a little while since she’s seen him like that.

Jumping off of the couch, she tossed the blanket towards Hannah. She brought the phone towards her ear. Neither of them said anything at first. Y/N walked towards her bedroom.

Luke took in a sharp breath as he sniffled.

“Luke, are you back at the hotel?” she questioned, before swallowing hard. He hummed. Shutting the door behind her, she immediately collapsed onto her bed. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” he choked out, “I’m so tired and I want the season to be done and my body fucking hurts,” he explained as he started to cry. She’s only seen him cry tears of joy. “I don’t know how to do this, I can’t do it anymore-it’s too much. I just want to go back to school and you. I just want to go back to you,” he sobbed. “I can’t do another year of this,”

He took another sudden breath and another sob falling from his lips.

“Lukey, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, “The season’s almost done, my love-”

“What if I don’t make it?” he let out, his voice completely cracking in the process.

“M-make what?” she let out while shaking her head. It was silent on his end of the phone as she heard him sniffle and take a deep breath.

“I’m supposed to be as good as Quinn and I-I can’t and the fans hate me,”

“They don’t hate you, Luke,” she tried to comfort him. “You’re a Calder contender, Luke that’s incredible, love, you’re almost through the toughest year in the league. You’re getting through this,” she explained, trying not to tear up.

“When do you graduate again?” he let out, his voice cracked.

“Decemember,” she mumbled, “Barely a year left, my love.”

“I can’t do another year without you,”

That was the moment she realized that she needed to visit him when he was back in New Jersey. For the next hour she was on the phone with him, calming him down. There wasn’t much of anything that she could say that truly could make him feel better. He was so exhausted that he ended falling asleep while on the phone with her.

After Luke fell asleep, she immediately called Jack. It ran a few times before he answered. “Uh-hey, Y/N?” he let out groggily.

“Hey Jack, I’m sorry that I woke you,”

“‘S cool, what’s wrong?” he muttered.

She took in a shaky breath, “Luke’s really struggling and I was hoping you could help me with something,” she mumbled. There was shuffling on his end of the phone.

“Do you need money for a flight? I’ll do anything, the kid is miserable,” he let out a dry chuckle before he continued to shuffle on his end of the phone.

Taking in a deep breath, “Yeah.”

“Okay, so we come back late Saturday, can you be here by then? Our neighbor has an extra key. I’ll let him know that you’ll be there to grab it,” he explained.

“Wait really?” she asked.

“He needs to see you. I’ll keep it a suprise,” he expressed. “Just let me know how much the flights are,”

“Thank you Jack,” her voice cracked as she spoke.

The party was nearing it’s end but Luke and Y/N were already in his room. It was normal for them to disappear near the end of the parties. Or in the middle of the parties. Or in the beginning of the parties. It was something they’ve been doing since the first party she attended six months ago.

He was laying on the bed, his hands were resting beneath his head. Sitting up, she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. Her lips fell into a pout as she delicately glided her hands across the curve of his abs line.

Pouting his lips, his eyes flickered up and down her frame. The small skin tight dress was starting to ride up her thighs. More and more of her skin was starting to get exposed. Swallowing hard, he tilted his head to the side. Pulling his hand away from his head, he took a delicate hold of the side of her thigh. He began to absentmindedly rub against her skin.

“Do you want to change into something comfier?” he asked as he ran his hand higher and higher. A small smirk formed to her lips as she leaned towards him. Her hands slowly glided up from his abs towards his jawline. Her fingertips glided so softly, his skin started to erupt in goosebumps.

His lips curled upward slowly as she slowly climbed onto his lap. His cheeks started to flush red as he continued to look towards her.

“I don’t really have anything here,” she mumbled as she slowly leaned towards him. His hands slowly slipped down towards the back of her thighs. He squinted his eyes slightly as he fought the smile that was starting to form on his lips.

“I’ve got clothes. Pretty comfy clothes. I mean I think they’re pretty comfy,” he mumbled as he took in a sharp breath. She giggled as she leaned towards him, delicately pressing her lips against his. He hummed against her lips as his slowly ran his hands up the back of her thighs, climbing higher up her dress. She pulled away, raising her eyebrows suspiciously.

“Well give me some options,” she muttered before pressing her lips against his again for a few seconds. He smacked his hands against her ass forcing a giggle from her lips. “Luke!” she scolded as she climbed off his lap.

He fought off a grin forming to his lips as he followed after her. Stumbling towards his closet, she adjusted the bottom of her dress. Biting his bottom lip, he started looking through his t-shirts and hoodies.

“O-or you could just take the dress off,” he said shyly. Looking down towards her, she looked up towards him widening her eyes while fighting off a smirk.

“Are you trying to get me naked?” she let out teasingly. He pursed his lips forward, a blush forming to his cheeks.

“I didn’t-I mean. If you don’t feel comfortable or-”

“Luke,” she teased as she rested her hands onto his arms, “I was messing with you.”

“Right,” he muttered as he took in a sharp breath as he reached into his closet and pulled out a random t-shirt. “It’s-um pretty comfy if you want-” he let out.

She smiled up towards him as she took a hold of the shirt. She stepped backwards, looking into his eyes. “Can you help me?” she asked, smirking softly. Slowly, she spun around and pulled her hair away from her neck. Luke swallowed harshly as he felt his heart racing suddenly.

“Are you sure? I was technically kidding-”

“Luke,” she whispered.

“Right,” he let out as he slowly reached his hands towards her. He delicately rested his hand onto her hip while he reached for the zipper. He clenched his jaw nervously as he slowly started to glide the zipper down her back. Once it was completely unzipped he kept his hands on her waist. “Can I?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed.

Stepping towards her, he slowly glided his hand up her back. He slowly began to push the dress off of her body. Leaning towards her delicately pressed his lips against her shoulder. Tilting her head back, she rested it against his chest. Slowly the dress fell from her frame. Luke’s hands happily wrapped around her body as she spun around to face him.

Looking up into his eyes, he felt his heart jump into his throat. “Is this okay?” he let out. She nodded as he leaned towards her kissing her softly yet urgently. Reaching down, he took a hold of her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she jumped up wrapping her legs around his waist. He walked towards the bed and delicately laid her onto it.

She looked up towards him with those eyes that he could never get tired of seeing. He smirked as he climbed on top of her, urgently leaning down and kissing her passionately.

She had been pacing in Luke’s apartment for nearly an hour as she waited for both Jack and Luke to enter the apartment. Jack explained that after they landed in the airport, they would be back at their place within the hour. Which she found out was a lie because it’s been much longer than an hour and she needed to hold him.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly pulled it out to see a text from Jack. They were almost up from the parking garage. She took in a deep breath as she continued to pace in a short three step cadence.

Her body was engulfed in tingles as she was starting to breath heavier and heavier. This was the first time she’s even attempted a surprise like this and she was feeling the pressure.

Especially since Jack had been texting her since they planned it, telling her how much Luke needed to see her. How much he needed this surprise. It was everything for both of them.

She heard keys outside of the door and Luke’s laugh.

She stopped moving, nearly stopped breathing. She stood awkwardly a handful of feet away from the front door.

The door was pushed open and Jack was the first one to step inside. He had a wide grin on his face as he nearly hopped away from the front door, holding his phone up excitedly.

Luke’s gaze was on his phone as he walked inside. Abesentmindedly slipping his shoes off and rolling his suitcase to the side. He shoved his phone into his pocket at the same time she felt her phone vibrate in hers.

Luke lifted his gaze to see her standing in the living room. Their eyes connected and it felt like time stopped.

His mouth fell open as stood in shock for only a second. “Oh my god,” he mumbled as he began to blink rapidly. His lips started to quiver and fall into a small pout as he took fast steps towards her.

A giggle fell from her lips as he held his hands out widely as he practically leaped towards her. He completely submerged her body in his as he urgently took a hold of her. She wrapped her arms around the center of his back.

“Oh my god,” he let out as he shut his eyes harshly. One of his hands took a hold of the center of her back as his other one took a hold of her head, holding her tightly to his chest.

He didn’t let go, he couldn’t because if he did let go, she could be gone and he could wake up from a dream.

“Fuck,” he let out as he pulled away, but kept his hand on her lower back and he moved his hand to the base of her neck. Scanning his features, she saw a few tears fall onto his cheek. Quickly, he submerged her in a bear hug again, still afraid of letting go.

Still holding her to her chest, he shifted his gaze towards Jack; who was no longer recording. He was simply smiling as he leaned his head against the wall. “Did you know?” he asked Jack. He simply nodded before he started walking towards his own bedroom.

After several more seconds, he finally pulled away. His hands were still rested on her waist as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled, “I can’t-” he shook his head as a wide smile formed to his lips. Bringing his hands up, he wiped the tears falling from his cheek. “Cried twice this week, new record I think,” he joked as he reluctantly stepped away from her.

She pouted her lips as she watched he jog towards his suitcase quickly before he began dragging it. He held his hand out towards her and she gladly accepted it. They both began to walk towards his bedroom. He dragged the suitcase into his room, leaving it next to the door before he shifted his gaze towards her.

“You’re actually here,” he mumbled.

“I am,” she let out barely above a whisper. He smiled softly as he rested his hands onto her cheeks and pulled her towards him. He kissed her as if a bomb was about to go off if he didn’t. His entire body relaxed the second he felt her lips on his.

It was almost as if every ounce of tension, body pain, and exhaustion left his body. Her hands rested on his chest as also felt her entire body relax. He pulled away, taking a small breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

“You have to tell me how you and Jack pulled this off,” he muttered before he stepped back. A chuckle fell from her lips. He pulled the winter jacket away from his body, his cheeks were flushed red. She sat down on the bed looking up towards him.

“After the Rangers game and after we talked, I called him and he helped me with getting a flights until Wednesday. I couldn’t not see you after that,” she explained. He tiled his head to the side for a moment before he took off his hoodie. He tossed it towards the floor before he stepped towards her. He took a hold of her chin.

“Best girlfriend ever,” he mumbled half joking as he looked into her eye. While maintaining eye contact she scooted away from him, lying at the center of the bed. He quickly climbed on top of her. A giggle fell from her lips as his body weight was crushing her for a brief moment. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, as she ran her hand up and down his back slowly. Her fingertips sent shivers up and down his body.

Every few seconds, he’d sleepily press his lips against her neck. “Lukey,” she muttered.

He hummed.

“I love you,” she whispered. She could feel him smile against her neck for a few seconds before he lifted his head up to meet her eye. Leaning down, he kissed her softly as he began to hold himself up as their lips remained connected.

Her hands started gliding through his hair, as he slowly pulled away. His lips were still hovering over hers, “I love you so much,” he muttered before he pecked her lips a few times before he reluctantly rolled onto his back. He began to slip under the comforter, she followed in pursuit.

“If I didn’t have a game tomorrow, we would be busy but-” he explained while rolling onto his side to face her. Following him, she faced him as she reached her hand over and delicately took a hold of his cheek. He shut his eyes as his lips slowly curled upward in a small smile.

“I know, my love, sleep good,” she whispered. He bit his bottom lip as he reached towards her, taking a hold of her thigh and dragging her body towards him, practically on top of him.

“Oh I will,” he whispered before he pressed his lips against hers for a long moment. “You really are the best, you know that?” he whispered against her lips.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months ago

Text

IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse.

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him.

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless.

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings.

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival.

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles.

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery.

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating.

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own.

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him.

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy.

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.”

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.”

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him.

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun.

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.”

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl.

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization.

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault.

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life.

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal.

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence.

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town.

Come to me.

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence.

Come to me.

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems.

“Why are you here?”

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him.

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible.

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment.

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…”

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you.

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give.

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch.

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own.

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths.

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness.

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-”

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep.

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns.

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away.

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs.

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.”

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down.

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him.

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.”

“So why are you still in pain?”

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other.

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.”

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps.

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…”

“Different?”

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind.

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night.

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.”

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger.

“What was the cost?”

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing.

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now.

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey.

Blood shouldn’t be sweet.

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow.

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you.

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance.

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in.

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration.

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed.

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?”

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him.

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees.

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?”

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.”

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.”

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance.

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it.

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them.

“Don’t,” he lowly warns.

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?”

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches.

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment.

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger.

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were.

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s.

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you.

He could almost taste you.

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.”

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable.

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger.

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone.

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch.

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.”

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer.

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone.

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him.

He’s losing control. You’re losing control.

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation.

A road to your hunger.

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease?

Probably.

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge.

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs.

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising.

Come to me.

“Please.”

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out.

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.”

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now.

You’re so close. So close.

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer.

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat.

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.”

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.”

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him.

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance.

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push.

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-”

He breaks.

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you.

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure.

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment.

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper.

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you.

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them.

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly.

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being.

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you.

I need more.

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his.

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously.

Then take it.

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt.

My pleasure.

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.

Sweet as honey.

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words.

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with.

“Yes, please.”

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to.

And you most certainly did not want to.

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control.

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.”

Yes.

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.”

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously.

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this.

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.”

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy.

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters.

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts.

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure.

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.”

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical.

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him.

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed.

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine.

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood.

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin.

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?”

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.”

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry.

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you.

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity.

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance.

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you.

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself.

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.”

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares.

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his.

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth.

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him.

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure.

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.”

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it.

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed.

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you.

Eddie.

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire.

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter.

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours.

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done.

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.”

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.”

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.”

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough.

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough.

Of course, lover.

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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angelyuji · 2 months ago

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ghost stan haunting the mystery shack after it closed down years ago.... walk with me.

18+!!!!!! minors dni!!

cw // dubcon (under the cut), monster??ghost sex, reader described with female genitalia????? idk how else to describe it

you moved to gravity falls a longggg time after the mystery shack closed down and the realtor in charge of the shack was sooo hype to just get it off their hands, so u got the place pretty cheap. you'd clean up the place, excited to renovate ur new home and explore the very old mystery spot.

it would start off as cold touches like you’re sweeping and you feel a cold hand on your back, you’re cooking and it feels like an arm wraps around your waist. you ignored it all, knowing the place was old and odd. so you ignored it. you ignored the cold spots, the occasional feel of a hand on your ass, the feel of someone watching you shower, the feeling that someone else was in the house with you because, at the end of the day, nothing bad has happened to you!

you ignored it all until one night. you were wrapped on your covers, warm and peacefully asleep, when a chill runs through your body as your blankets are pulled off. you open your eyes, blearily looking around for your blanket. your eyes focus on a blurry image of a man, standing at the edge of your bed. fear paralyzes you as you register the ….

his hand was cold and rough, almost transparent as he slides it up your leg. you can hear his voice, but nothing registers in your head. he pulls down your pajama bottoms and slides a cold finger up your leg, you couldn’t move, paralyzed in fear. you swallow a moan as he presses a thick finger against your underwear. “w-who are you?” you choke out as he starts to pull your underwear.

“i’ve got a lot of names, baby.” the old man dips his head to your shoulder, whispering into your ear. “mr. mystery is one of my favorites though.” you try to stop him, but your hands go through him, unable to grab hold of him. he laughs at your antics and grips your legs tight. he smiles wide and pushes a cold, thick finger inside you. you clench around him, chills going up your spine. “come on, cutie. just relax and you’ll have fun.” you feel him pull out and push in, slowly, savoring the feel of your cunt clenching around his finger. “fuck,” he grunts, “so fucking hot.” you arch your back, as he pushes two fingers in, freezing you to your core. you moan as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, mind going numb.

but as you clench your thighs together, he pulls his fingers out. you whine, “please, no- i need-” he laughs at your begging. he shoves his fingers into your mouth and you suck them clean, tasting yourself around two translucent fingers.

“i’ll be back, pretty.” he grins. you blink and he’s gone.

ghost stan doesn’t come back for a couple days after that and you notice when you realize no one had felt you up while you were in the shack. you had done some research on the shack in that time and realized that it was not a weird dream but the stan pines who was haunting the place. a couple more days go by, and you were getting restless, hoping to see the man and question him. you try some summoning bs you found on the internet- nothing, you call his name 3 times like beetlejuice in the living room- nothing, and you even try to find his grave or living relatives- nothing. at some point, you gave up and went back to convincing yourself it was just a dream…. until a month later when stan decided to pop back up.

#minors dni #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #stan pines smut #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #ghost kink #ghost sex #monster fucker #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #yandere gravity falls #gravity falls smut #gravity falls #lowkey hate this now

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httpiastri · 11 months ago

Text

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."

1K notes · View notes

futurewdclandonorris · 1 year ago

Text

Dinner Reservation | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: you had plans to go out, Lando had other. Watch what happens when you tell him no

Warnings: barely any plot just smut, light dom Lando, kinda bratty both Lando and the reader, and assholes too (idk what came over me, I thought I was being funny) some cringe bits for the sake of the 'plot' but we move, kinda long that's why I included word count, hint of exhibitionism, unprotected sex

Word count: 5389

A/N: Okay, I really need to learn how to write summaries, if anyone wants to be my editor you can hit me up. Perks are you get to see the original copy before I rewrite it for tumblr

Credits to @twinkodium for prompting this idea and brainstorming it with me ♥

You stepped out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around your body. Not bringing any clothes with you, you proceeded out of the bathroom to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. He was sprawled out on the bed, obviously dissatisfied about something–still in his hoodie and black sweats–but the moment you opened the door, his whole demeanor changed, his hungry eyes following you as you strolled across the room to your still unpacked suitcase. Bending down to get your underwear, you felt two arms wrap around your waist, stopping you mid motion.

You smirked, popping your behind and pressing it harder against his pelvis as you fished a pair of panties from the case. He lowly grunted, removing your hair from one shoulder to another, which gave him a clean access for planting a kiss on your neck.

"Plans canceled, why don't you get on the bed for me, gorgeous?" he murmured against your skin.

You tried to sustain your smile, finding the whole situation amusing. Getting a hold of yourself, you turned around to face him.

"We can't cancel plans just because you suddenly got horny." you playfully rolled your eyes. "They're waiting for us."

The plan was to go out and grab dinner with Oscar and Lily. Something like a double date and get together outside business hours.

"They can wait." he still had that stupid grin on his face, brushing his fingertips over the side of yours, his eyes roaming all over your features.

"No, they can't. You're acting like a spoiled child, you know that?" you teased, giving him a playful shove. "Now go get ready, we're already late as it is. They're probably wondering where we are." you urged and knowing there was no point further arguing with you, he scoffed and walked over to the dresser.

"You're acting like we don't spend three weekends a month with them," he protested, buttoning his shirt only a halfway up. "But fine. If you won't listen to me now, I'll bend you over that goddamn dinner table and fuck you in front of everyone. Maybe that will be more appealing to you-"

"Don't be ridiculous." you snorted a laugh.

"Say I won't do it." he stood tall and incredibly close in front of you, his eyes boring into yours making you feel smaller than you were. And you could swear, you didn't know if your wetness was from the shower or somethin else entirely different.

"Please, dress up, sweetheart." he finished, his voice somewhat mocking, leaving you to clutch your panties to your chest standing in the middle of the room.

This whole ordeal may or may have not resulted in you changing the outfit you had in mind from the top. Instead of an orange sundress, you slipped into a white linen bodycon dress that perfectly hugged your curves, cut out sides exposing your toned waist and highlighting your hip bones. Deep v neck brought exposure to your cleavage as well.

Studying yourself in the mirror, the material was so thin it was almost see through. Lando absolutely hated loved this dress. You completed the look with some white sandals. You were in the process of putting on your gold earrings when Lando walked in.

"Are you anywhere near do-" he choked out, eyes turning a darker shade of green as they scanned you from head to toe. He cleared his throat before speaking "You look amazing, darling." he complimented, with a little bitter taste to the pet name he just called you, obviously not approving of the attire. Jackpot.

"Thank you, darling." you grinned as you walked up to him and pecked his cheek, completely ignoring the fact he was fuming.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Lead the way." you responded, your lips still curved into a smile, and laced your hands together.

On the drive to the restaurant, his knuckles turned completely white from how strong his grip on the steering wheel was. His eyes never darted from the road, not even once. No hand holding nor even one kiss at the red light. But instead, you drove in silence, only soft music playing from the radio making any noise as you tried to hide your satisfaction, which you will probably come to regret later, looking out the window.

As expected, Oscar and Lily arrived before you. You apologized for keeping them waiting, but they said they only just got there a few minutes ago due to traffic. A waiter immediately approached you and had your orders right under way in a few moments.

During dinner, Lando wasn't completely ignoring you, but he wasn't really paying attention or engaging with you either. Which didn't come off as strange or like something was wrong between you. You girls had your girl talk and boys had their boy talk. Lily couldn't always attend a race weekend and it's been a while since you last saw her. But there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, only someone who had known him for years could notice, telling you he was planning something.

First, he'd casually drop his hand on your thigh under the table and just rest it there, and then remove it without a second thought, continuing his conversation with Oscar like nothing happened. After a while, he'd put it back on, only higher this time and gently grasp the skin, his thumb drawing circles. Your muscles tensed and made you jump in your seat. He noticed, of course, without sparing you a second glance and dragged his palm up and down your inner thigh like that was going to soothe you. He stopped and left you alone once more when your main course arrived.

While waiting for dessert, his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties without previous warning that made you gasp audibly and place your elbows on the table to support your forehead with your hands, making all cutlery clank. That finally drove some confused looks from Oscar and Lily.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, curiosity getting the best of her cause this wasn't the first time you jumped in your seat during the conversation.

"I'm fine." you breathed, faking a smile. You turned towards Lando and hissed, covering your mouth "What are you doing?"

He leaned closer into your side, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered "I'm thinking about having my dessert now." his fingers still feathered over you. You gave him a wide eyed look. "Say I won't do it." he repeated his words from earlier that instantly made you blush.

"You... you're crazy." you whispered back, glancing sideways at the confused faces around you, most likely thinking you were talking about the weather. God, you hoped they were thinking you were talking about the weather.

"Say it." he insisted, his palm coming to a stop on your pussy.

You bit your lip, getting a clear image of him bending you over the table while Lily, Oscar and the waiter looked on as Lando fucked you right in front of them. It made you wet and you hated yourself for it.

"I... I'm saying it." you mumbled.

"What?" he took a sip of his drink.

"I'm saying it." you leaned closer as the people around you were now completely involved in their own conversations, acting like they didn't hear you the first time. "I'm saying you won't do it." maybe one thing Lando often forgets is how stubbornly bratty you can get.

Lando started, but was interrupted by the waiter coming to pick up your dessert orders. He only quickly added that you will settle this later. The Great Dessert Debate concluded after you were done with your meals. Lily was lobbying for ice cream, Oscar insisting on sorbet, Lando not really giving a damn as long as he wasn't going to have cake and you, of course, wanted something naughty. Oscar finally convinced Lily that sorbet would taste better than ice cream and they decided to get it to-go to bring home. You sighed and ordered cheesecake eventually.

"I changed my mind." Lando started. "I won't be having any dessert here." he smirked and glanced at you.

Idle as he was, he didn't waste an opportunity to dip his hand between your thighs once more and stroke you up and down as soon as you dipped your spoon in your cheesecake. You could've made a scene, but how you were practically purring in your seat, you decided not to.

"Don't move and finish your little treat," he murmured and brought his lips to your cheek and kissed it. "I'm sure sugar will give you enough energy for what's about to come later." you could almost choke as you swallowed.

He squeezed your thigh again under the table, giving you a once over and letting his eyes settle on your mouth. You knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to turn you on in public while everyone else was almost done with their desserts and it worked, damn it. He didn't stop touching you until dessert was over and the bill was paid, but this time he slid his palm all the way up to your slit and stroked you through the fabric while you were busy–struggling–saying goodbye to Lily and Oscar.

You almost didn't want to get in the car with him, but to drag him to the nearest restroom and have him there. You were just on the verge of exploding, burning and dying a death of a thousand orgasms that needed to be let out, and let out now.

He put the car in drive, with you sitting right next to him, still wet and hard and throbbing. You didn't bother to keep your voice low this time. You huffed and fumed, wanting nothing more than to choke his pretty little neck.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to avoid a car accident with a grin on his face. He really is fucking crazy, you thought.

"You're so damn frustrating. Why haven't you touched me yet?"

"I'm touching you now." he smirked.

"You asshole! You're not touching me-Ah!" you yelped as he dug his thumb into your wetness and began rubbing you, his left hand steadily steering. You spread your legs as far as the car allowed and pulled your knee up, giving him as much access as you could.

"Oh god..." you relaxed and succumbed to your pleasure, making his thumb work at its full potential.

His other fingers were busy playing with your pussy, tracing the fabric to your entrance, but never actually going inside. You were breathing heavily as his fingers grazed closer to your clit each time he would repeat his movements. His thumb found your clit and started massaging it while his pointer and middle finger pulled your panties to the side and slipped in, parting your walls. You shuddered and moaned, but kept your eyes on the road ahead of you.

The way he was touching you was incredible, you were so wet that you could already feel the heat radiating from your skin. And he was doing all that while driving. One hand on the steering wheel, the other one down your panties.

He looked really hot, you had to admit to yourself, as you bit your lip glancing over at him. His eyes fixed on the road, concentration evident on his face as he drilled into you with his right hand. You wanted to lean over and kiss him.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting that spot. Pumping in and out, you were getting more and more jerky in the passenger seat, only the seat belt restraining you from bucking your hips forward. It was getting so good, so painfully good when he pulled his fingers out of you.

"Don't do that." you whined, as he noticed your hips jerking and tried to move his hand to make you come.

"What?"

"That," you breathed, "Pull your fingers out of me."

He chuckled and put his palm over your pussy again, stroking you from the top. You started getting wetter and your breaths got faster and louder.

"Lando... Please! Don't." you muttered, knowing that in a matter of minutes you'd achieve sweet release.

He continued nonetheless, his nails scratching your skin every time the pad of his thumb would meet with your clitoris. You groaned and spread your legs wider, moaning Lando's name as you came.

"Seriously?" he chuckled again, stopping at the red light.

"Shut up." you glared at him and puffed your disheveled hair out of your face. He was still smiling. "That was not funny." you hissed, removing his hand from you.

"I agree." he said, undeterred by your actions. He brought the hand that was on your pussy up to his mouth and licked his fingers clean. "Mm, now this is what I call dessert." he moaned, licking his lips and savoring the taste. "And that was your first orgasm of the night, babe."

"You're an asshole." you pouted.

"So you've told me." he drove off, his hand coming back to rub your thigh.

"Lando, I'm serious," you grabbed his fingers and pushed them away. "Stop."

"Babe, you should really learn to finish what you start." he said, his cottage cheese fingers now replaced by the dripping wetness of his mouth. "Did you forget?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I'm marrying you for your money."

"And your body." he added, letting his fingers lick your inner thigh.

"You bastard."

"We still have business to run when we get home." he announced, glancing quickly over at you. But your eyes were already half-lidded and there was a pleasant ache between your legs.

"Just drive." you muttered.

"I'm serious." he lightly chuckled, putting his right hand on your leg and rubbing you solidly through your skirt.

"We'll see." you adjusted yourself in the seat. You closed your eyes as you made yourself comfortable, enjoying the rest of the ride home.

Like he knew you needed a bit more rest, he took a longer route home. Pulling into your driveway, you smirked as the lights illuminated your face. You cleared your throat and fixed your skirt before exiting the car and sauntering over to the front of the house without giving a second glance to Lando. You made sure to sway your hips a little extra to grab his attention which worked, considering you were already unlocking the front door when you heard a soft click of his car door, meaning he stayed behind. Your feet were killing you and you only got to kick off one shoe when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Back where we started," he whispered.

"Something like that." you smiled, your hand grabbing the nape of his neck as you kicked the other shoe off. You stood flat on your bare feet, significantly shorter than him now.

He traced your shoulder with kisses up to your neck, his palms riding up your waist to cup your breasts. A low moan escaped you as he thumbed your nipple. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as your hips began to grind against him.

"I want you." you breathed into his ear.

He was hard against you and you could already feel yourself dripping wet for him. He turned you around, smashing your lips together as he picked you up and carried you to the living room couch. He sat down with you straddling him, your kissing already turned into a heavy make out session, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth and vice versa.

One hand on your hip helping you rock back and forth, the other one on your jaw and throat, choking lightly and keeping your head in place. His hips buckled up as you sped your movements, making him hiss into your mouth and bite harder on your lower lip. You let out a soft cry, but didn't let that stop you.

Now both of his hands roamed the open back of your dress, his face pressed flat in your cleavage until he brought one of his hands and tugged harshly down at the top of your dress, afraid you heard something snap.

"Oh, did I rip it? Did I rip it for good this time?" he got a bit too overly excited for your liking.

"Yeah, I think one of my straps snapped." you breathed, flustered.

"Thank god!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose in your cleavage. "I've been waiting for this day."

"I didn't realize you were such a fan of this dress." you sarcastically remarked, rolling your eyes, knowing damn well how he felt about it. You glanced down and saw he had torn the top of the dress almost to your belly button.

"Sorry." he grinned.

"No, you're not." you couldn't help but laugh. "You're going to make me buy a new one." you said, trying to push his face back into your cleavage.

"I'll pay for it." he nodded. You shook your head dismissively, deciding to let the subject go.

Coming up to your breasts, he pressed his palms over them before rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You moaned as he did, his breath hot on your skin. He moved his mouth to suck on your left breast, closing his eyes and taking in your scent. You let your hand fall to his waist, pulling at his belt. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, but only for a moment, before his tongue swirled around your right nipple. Your breath hitched when he grazed you with his teeth, your right hand tugging on his curls. He let your nipple pop out of his mouth before dragging his teeth over your skin, the sensation sending electric currents through you.

"I have an idea-"

"Oh no-"

"Can you stand up for me, please, love?" he innocently grinned up at you.

Just out of pure curiosity you listened to him. He turned you around so that your back was facing him.

"You're going to rip the rest off me, aren't you?"

"Guilty." he pulled the remaining strap down. Your hands were on the couch now, bracing yourself and waiting for his next move.

"You're so dirty." you said, unable to resist sounding disappointed.

"And you're so wet." he said, his fingers pressed up against your drenched panties.

"Shut up." you shuddered, his breath warming the back of your neck.

The fire in you was burning now. You felt his hands snake around your neck and his hot breath on your ear.

"Just because I don't like this dress doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you so much." he whispered.

"I love you more." you replied, relaxed.

He leaned in and kissed your back, all the way down your spine, making you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin. His hands gently grabbed the remaining fabric of the dress on your hips and in one swift motion, tore it off your body.

"Whoops," he said, dropping the shreds that once made up a dress on the floor.

"You tease." you smirked over your shoulder.

"You love it."

You nodded. You felt his hands gently grab your hips as he pushed you forward a bit and stood up behind you. One of his hands spread across your lower back and the other reached down to grasp on your thigh. He pulled you back against him and you could feel his hardness in between your ass cheeks as he kissed your shoulder. You felt his hand wander up your inner thigh and lightly graze your clit. You moaned in approval and he took that as a cue to keep going. He slipped a finger or two inside you and it was almost instant that he was tapping your g-spot.

"Lando." you breathed, fully leaning on him for support.

"Yes, love?" his voice was deep and low.

"I want you." you whined for the second time that evening.

"And you'll have me." he said, without providing much information on when that will be.

He laid you back on the couch, opening your legs to slide his arms in between your thighs. He lifted your butt off the couch and you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, anticipating the moment where he'd have his face between your legs.

He descended on top of you, his lips kissing your neck before moving over to your ear. His teeth grazed your earlobe and you shuddered as he sucked.

"More." you panted, your fingers clawing at his shirt.

He smirked, giving your ear one last lick before moving his attention to your lips. His rough hands maneuvered over your skin, finally gripping your breasts and pinching your nipples. Your hands cupped his face as he roughly bit down on your lower lip, then moving to your jaw and then your neck.

You pulled off his dress shirt as he attacked your neck with his mouth and his teeth. Your eyes fluttered close as his teeth sank into your shoulder. He pulled away, leaving a series of hickeys on your skin. He climbed back on top of you, his hands snaking down to grab your ass. He looked into your eyes, biting down on his lip as he pushed his hardness into your thigh. You wiggled your hips, getting impatient for him to be inside of you.

"So impatient," he remarked. "Can't you see I'm trying to take my time with you?"

"This is torture." you said instead.

"Now, baby," he said, kissing his way down from in between your chest to your stomach. "No need for dramatics."

Positioning his face just above your pussy, he gently removed your panties as he pushed your legs a bit more forward, angling you just the way he wanted you. Without previous warning, he ran his hot tongue all over you. Oh, god, real torture begins now, you thought.

A moan chocked in your throat as your mouth hung agape. It didn't take long for him to start lapping around your folds, suck on your clit and fuck into your entrance with his pointy tongue. You were a squirmy and moany mess, one hand pulling on his hair, the othe one gripping the couch, but he didn't cease. In fact, it only encouraged him to flick his tongue over your sensitivity and keep tasting you up.

Thighs shaking and repeatedly panting his name, your climax arrived sooner that you anticipated. He licked you clean one last time before getting on top of you once more and kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip as you sucked on it, receiving a moan into your mouth from him. He gave you a few more pecks before pulling you up by your arms into his embrace.

"What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" he questioned.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as he carried you like a child in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist.

He dropped you on the bed and fumbled with his pants. That gave you an opportunity to quickly get on your knees and take his belt off and unbutton his pants. He got the hint, taking them down. You rested your head on his thigh, looking up at him–pouting–as you stroked the bulge in his boxers. You probably couldn't count how many times he actually got a boner this evening and had to fight it. His lips parted, shaky breaths escaping him.

"Please..." he begged, fingers raking through your hair.

He didn't have to tell you twice to take his boxers off. After all, you could no longer deny him his pleasure after everything you've put him through this evening. He deserved his little treat. His length sprung forward and you rested it on your tongue. He shuddered, holding your head as you bobbed on him. You started going faster and it wasn't long before you could feel him twitching in your mouth.

You usually didn't do this, but you wanted to tease him as much as you could. When you felt him starting to lose his grip, you stopped and smiled as you looked up at him. Strands of saliva connected your mouth to his cock. He looked at you with a desperate look, his hands holding your head still.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Because you wanted to," you said, beaming.

He shook his head dismissively, returning a smile. You wrapped your lips around his tip again, sucking on him as hard as you could. His head fell back onto his shoulder, his eyes closed in ecstasy. You gripped him in your hands, stroking him as you bobbed your head up and down.

You stopped when it felt like his cock was about to burst. You let go and looked up at him and he caught you before you could say anything. He pulled you up and his lips crashed onto yours. The taste of him was still on your tongue, but you didn't mind. He kissed you tighter, his hands wrapped around your body, his fingers clawing at your lower back.

"Please, stop fucking teasing me." he groaned.

"I'm sorry." I pouted. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Want to show me just how sorry you are? Huh?" he grabbed your jaw, fixing your eyes on him. You nodded in response, this play only turning you on. "I'm going to fuck you right here." he muttered, his voice husky with lust. "Right on this bed, where I have fucked you numerous times before." he took your arms and pinned them to your sides. "Don't. Fight. Me." he warned, making sure not to repeat previous mistakes.

You shook your head and let out a nervous giggle.

"That's my girl." he leaned forward to kiss you again.

You moaned into it, pressing your body against him. His palm rubbed up your leg, parting it wider as he went to your thigh. He held your leg as he slipped it over his shoulder, his fingers brushing faintly over you, your hips bucking against him, urging him to go. He obliged by slipping two fingers. Your back arched up, your head falling back as you groaned.

"So wet for me." he grinned.

"You just don't know what you do to me." you explained, rocking your hips, enjoying the feeling of his fingers filling you up.

"I'll show you what I'm going to do to you." he claimed, gripping your hand and intertwining your fingers. His other hand was working its way further up your thigh and stopping above your knee.

"Do it, Lando." you pleaded.

He hoisted your other leg over his shoulder as well, changing the angle of your body and pushed himself into you. You twisted your head to look at him, your mouth hanging open as you let out a loud cry.

"Oh, fuck me, Lando..." you said breathily.

"Say my name." he rocked his hips faster.

"Lando," you gasped, your thighs beginning to shake.

"Louder." he commanded, squeezing your ass in his hands. "You're louder when you come."

"Lan... Lando!" you moaned, throwing your head back again.

The feeling was so overwhelming that you could feel yourself on the brink of climax. Your thighs started to shake violently and your stomach felt like it was being tickled on the inside. You moaned his name, trying to stifle a scream as you felt the most intense orgasm wash over you. You felt like you were going to pass out. It really had to be the most incredible feeling you ever experienced. You could feel him still hunched over you, filling you up.

"Lay down," he ordered.

"I can't even move," you gasped. "I'm numb."

"Good." he chuckled. "It means you enjoyed yourself."

"What about you?" you asked him.

"I'm covered in you." he kissed you. "That's more than enough."

"I want to make you feel good." you said, trying to catch your breath.

"That's something I'll have to work for." he smirked at you, rolling his cock inside you.

You bit your lip to keep you from moaning as you twisted your hips and dug your nails into his skin. He started kissing and sucking on your neck and your hands fell to his shoulders.

"I think you've had enough fun." he said, nibbling on your ear.

"Too much is never enough." you giggled. "Just stay inside me." you whispered as you put your arms back around his neck.

"I can do that." he smiled before kissing you.

He started thrusting in and out of you slowly, changing the angle again. You moaned into the kiss, your arms tightening around him. You started rocking your hips in sync with his thrusts, filling you up even more. He let go of your arms and cupped your face, still kissing you. You moved your hands to his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair.

"Oh, my god," you moaned into his mouth. "This feels so good."

"Tell me what you feel," he said between kisses.

"I feel full." you said breathily. "Like your cock is stretching me out." this dirty talk made you giggle.

"Tell me how it feels filling you up." he encouraged.

"I feel like I'm ready to burst," you said, shuddering. "I love it."

He pushed into you deeper and his lips found your collar bone.

"Good," he groaned. "I want you to feel good."

"I do." you breathed. "Oh, my god, I do." your eyes rolled back.

"Are you going to come again?" he asked, changing the speed of his thrusts.

"I don't know." you said. "Don't stop." you hugged him closer.

You felt the muscles in your body tightening and you knew you were about to climax again. He pulled back and looked down at you.

"Stay with me." he said, thrusting harder.

"I can't." you moaned.

He lifted you up, changing the position again. He slid out of you slightly then pushed in hard, hitting you in the right spot.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, arms falling back to your side. "Fuck!" you screamed.

"Good girl," he pulled your face up and kissed you.

You came so hard that your vision went blurry and you felt like passing out again. You could feel him still thrusting into you, trying to keep pace. You bucked against him, your hips constricting as he came inside of you, groaning your name. He put you back down on the bed, his hands still on your body, gently rubbing your skin. You felt like you were on top of the world.

"I love you." you said, turning your head to face him. "So much."

"I love you." he replied, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit bratty today." you snuggled closer to him.

"Nah, I deserved it." he played with your fingers on his stomach. "And if I didn't, I know why you do it anyway." he shot you a quick glance.

"Oh, really?" you challenged.

"Uh huh. Don't get me wrong, it's hot and all, but babe, if you want me to fuck you hard all you have to do is ask."

"You're unbelievable." you shoved his shoulder and turned around, getting further away from him as possible. "Let's see the next time I behave like that and you don't get anything." you tucked yourself in with a duvet.

"Babe," he called and rolled his body closer to yours, hugging you from behind. "It was a joke. With some truth in it, but you know-"

You turned around just to hit his chest."

"Asshole."

"Princess."

You snuggled into the crook of his neck as he rested his chin on top of your head, your limbs tangled together.

"Prick."

"Babygirl."

"Wanker."

"If you want round three just say that." even though you both laughed, you still hit him with your fist.

"Fucking idiot."

"Love of my life."

You're not sure when exactly did he stop whispering names of endearment in your ear for you fell asleep in his arms to the sound of his voice with a hint of a smile plastered on your face.

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