#it’s frustration I think I’m frustrated and idk why or how to make it better

[nathsolkyoako]

I have been feeling like Weirdly violent today idk what’s up with that

[r6eduss]

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[leovenuslatina]

𝓓𝓞 𝓜𝓔 ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ PT.2

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!!! this reading is 18+ ONLY !!! ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

part 2 in the “do me” series yay !! this reading is about: Your FS favorite thing about having sex with you 💗 ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•

thank you for having so much patience 2/3 this series is almost done !!

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

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pile one - ace of wands , ten of cups

🧿

pile one ur FS is such a perv when it come to you lmao !! their favorite thing about having sex with you is literally you ! the way you look and smell and your body is like a work of art to them you’re literally so so hot to them. during sex you’ll just catch them staring deep in into your eyes and he’s just lost in the mf sauce so deep in love and literally shocked that a hottie like you loves having sex with them. i’m getting that even though the two of you have been married or been together for a long time he’ll still feel like he scored BIG TIME. like he’s in high school and he’s like a nerd loser or something and you’re the hot popular girl and he literally can’t believe you’re interested in him. even when you’re not having sex they constantly he’s always look at you for validation that he’s making you feel good and not uncomfortable but also because you’re just sooo pretty he loves watching you. your FS LOVES watching you get dressed and he hates when you kick him out so you can change because like i said he views you as art would you keep people from seeing the mona lisa? so why keep him from the masterpiece that is you? Your FS loves having sex with you because you’re the most passionate lover he’s ever had i think it’s because your connection w your FS IS SOOO STRONG that it makes everything you two do in the bedroom 1000 times better.

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extra messages- pregnancy, excitement, faster speed, high energy, spontaneous, fairytales coming true

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pile two - four of wands, ace of swords

☁️

Pile 2 your FS gives me subby vibes. they love to care for you that’s their favorite thing about having sex with you is taking care of your needs he likes knowing you depend on him to feel good. during your sex they love when you tell them what to do to you. Your FS is like a puppy just waiting for your next instructions on how to best make you happy. your FS favorite thing about doing you is how much stronger it makes your connection of course it makes you two closer but something spiritual happens to them when you’re in bed together it’s like you’re his own personal slice of heaven. idk why i’m getting he proposed during sex like he just blurted it out he was mid stroke in you and was like “please marry me” or he just decided he wanted to marry you while having sex with you he realized you’re just too much of a catch and the two of you are just too sexually compatible to not make you his forever!!! when your FS is having sex with you he feels it calms him that’s why i think this pile is my soulmate twin flame pile because i just keep getting a strong spiritual healing sense. another thing your FS LOVESSSSSSSS your dirty talk either one or both of you love to talk dirty but i think you more than them like it and they are in love with hoe filthy you whisper in their ear it makes them almost cum on their pants you know exactly what to saw to make them feel something.

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extra messages: acts of service, mind reading, stability, celebrations, commitment, protection, dominant/domination, work, frustrations

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pile three - wheel of fortune, nine of cups

🌸

your FS loves that you’re innocent but in the private of your own bedroom you’re a freaky ass. it’s very unexpected for him but he loves that the more he gets to know you the more you surprise him and that just makes you that much more attractive to him. i think like pile two your FS feels a very deep connection to you like he manifested himself to be with you 🥹 that’s so sweet. Your FS LOVES how risky your sex seems ??? i’m getting one or both of you have like super dark kinks and your FS loves that they never know what to expect from you it turns them on so so much they have never been with someone as adventurous as you it makes them feel like they’re on top of the world. even if you don’t see yourself as kinky now Pile 3 im seeing by the time you and your FS start having sex you will be confident enough to explore all facets of your sexuality your FS may even have a lot to do with how confident you feel in indulging yourself in kinky ways 😉.

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extra messages- cycles, the universe has a plan, lucky, things going well, value yourself, emotional fulfillment, pride

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[letorip]

clingy tara carpenter hcs?

clingy tara carpenter

idk why but i’m in a tara mood so this was definitely more fun to write. it’s more like headcanons than my normal ones just because i think it’s interesting to follow and i had lots of ideas but not necessarily following a through-line story like many of them do

you and Tara meet at Blackmore and she is instantly fixated on you. it’s something she tries to hide at first, she’s too used to being something of a cool, aloof girl

you’re friendly, kind, funny, and smart, and it feels weird— like when she’s with you, she’s finally breathing at full capacity. it’s kind of odd at first, that you cut away the facade she constantly puts up. with other people who chase her and flirt with her, it feels like breathing, but when you do it, it catches her off guard, and it makes her stumble, especially the first time

she’s always bugging asking Anika if you’re coming to hang out with them or at a party, and gets a bit disappointed whenever the answer is no. she’ll still go, since Mindy would kill her if she didn’t, but she’s way less excited than before

Tara decides to go the natural route, and see you out in public, but you don’t have the same major so you pretty much never cross paths on campus

she gets increasingly frustrated, going to back to back parties in search of you on a friday night, only to discover that your instagram story says you were actually at the library the entire time

she does the exact same thing the next day, on a saturday night, and ends up going to four parties only to find that you’re once more not even there

after giving up on that she just goes into your dms and musters enough courage after a week to finally send a message asking you to hang out

after you start dating, it’s even worse than tara thought

she needs you so so so bad, this girl is down atrocious

you’re pretty much inseparable after that point, not that tara would ever admit it. she’s not used to needing anyone ever, with sam leaving and her mom being the way she is ever

you go on a trip for a week with your family around the holidays and every night you and Tara fall asleep on the phone together, or you facetime for a while, and she’s counting down the days until you come back

she wants to know everything, and she watches with a small smile when you’re excitedly explaining how the trip is going

she picks you up from the airport with one of those cheesy signs, but she pretty much drops it and rushes into your arms, and she’s crying

she hates crying in public, but she’s missed you so much

she tells you everything about every movie she’s pretty much ever watched, sometimes as a way to help you sleep. you’re not actually completely listening, you just fall asleep better to her voice and movies are a thing she can talk about for a LOOOONG time

she’ll show you her favourites that she’s seen a million times, only instead of watching the movie, she’s watching your face and your expressions.

she tracks your location, but not because she’s suspicious of you. it’s because she’s paranoid that something could happen to you, and that’s the last thing she would want in the universe

if ghostface did ever come back, she’s the first to get you to safety. she’d definitely try the say-something-mean-to-get-you-to-leave tactic, but it wouldn’t work, and you’d just hold her, forehead to forehead while she cries about needing you and needing to keep you safe at the same time

she steals your shirts and your jackets whenever she can. it smells like you and it keeps her warm, and she’ll “accidentally” forget her jacket at home during the winter

she’s definitely a jealous person. she knows that everyone wants you and honestly she can’t blame them, but you’re hers and she wants everyone else to know. when a girl will approach you at the party that Tara brought you to, and she looks a little too comfortable, Tara will grab you by the arm and drag you hastily upstairs to claim her territory, and mark up your neck for proof

she’ll definitely be the type to deny she’s clingy. you’ll joking say “you’re so clingy” when she’s got her arms wrapped around you, and she’ll scoff and get genuinely offended by the insinuation that she needs you and clings to you

then of course she’ll want to cuddle 5 minutes later

thanks, hopefully will be posting again soon

[ponderingmoonlight]

Going to "your spot" after the breakup and finding your ex aka jjk men there too

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Sukuna/Yuji x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,2k (well this took me quite some time lol)

Warnings: hurt hurt hurt und slight comfort in every part or a lot of comfort in some of the parts, please excuse a few mistakes here and there, omg Sukuna's part is sooo hot, idk but somehow EVERY scenario screams part 2 to me?

Gojo Satoru

You haven’t been back here in weeks.

The café is small, hidden between two noisy streets, easy to miss if you don’t know it’s here. That’s why it became your spot. After the breakup, it was the only place that felt like yours, where you could think without the weight of everything hanging over you, where you were able to think about anything else but him. As you step inside, the familiar sound of chatter blends with the whir of the espresso machine, and for a second, it feels like you can finally breathe.

But then you see him.

Gojo Satoru, sitting at your favorite booth, long legs stretched out under the table, an easy smirk playing on his lips like he’s waiting for something amusing to happen. His signature sunglasses sit crooked on his nose, as though even they can’t take him seriously.

Your heart stumbles, caught between old emotions and the sharp sting of reality. You broke up months ago. So why does it feel like time hasn’t moved at all? You freeze, standing in the doorway, unsure if you should leave before he notices you. But it’s already too late.

“Ah, there you are,” his voice is casual, like he expected you to show up.

Like this is all normal.

You blink, unsure how to respond. He waves you over, patting the seat across from him with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face.

“C’mon, don’t stand there like a ghost. Sit.”

You consider walking out, to run away and never return. But something keeps you rooted in place. Maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you - like he knows something you don’t. Against your better judgment, you step forward and slide into the booth across from him.

“What are you doing here, Satoru?” you ask, keeping your voice steady, though it’s hard to ignore the way your chest tightens with old memories.

“Same thing you’re doing,” he replies, leaning back in his seat as if he owns the place.

“Thinking. Drinking coffee. Enjoying life.”

His nonchalance rubs you the wrong way. It always has. Even during the relationship, Gojo was an enigma. Always present, yet somehow distant, like he existed in a world slightly out of sync with yours. It made things exciting… and exhausting.

You look away, glancing out the window as you gather your thoughts.

“You’re in my spot. And I’m not enjoying life when you’re around.”

He laughs, the sound light and almost mocking.

“Your spot, huh? Last time I checked, cafés don’t have names on seats.”

You sigh. There’s no point in arguing with him. Not when he twists words like this. You turn back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest while forcing your racing heart to calm down.

“What do you want?”

His grin fades slightly, but his playful air remains. He taps his fingers on the table, thoughtful.

“What, I can’t just run into you and say hi?”

You arch an eyebrow.

“Here? Really?”

His head tilts, sunglasses sliding down a little to reveal those impossibly blue eyes. Eyes that have seen too much, understood too little, yet always managed to draw you in.

“Fine,” he says, voice softening just a little.

“Maybe I knew you’d be here.”

Of course he did. Gojo always had a way of knowing things he shouldn’t. It’s both frustrating and oddly comforting. You’re not sure how you feel about him tracking you down like this. There’s a part of you that wants to yell at him, tell him to leave you alone and stop making everything so confusing. But another part, one you don’t want to admit to, wonders if this means something. If he regrets it. If this is his version of an apology. If there’s a chance for both of you to get back.

But this is Satoru, and he doesn’t do apologies.

Instead, he just watches you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. You realize he’s not going to make the first move, so you speak, your voice low but steady.

“Why now?”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, a serious look settling on his face.

“Because I’ve been thinking. About us.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral. You’ve been down this road before. It’s not the first time you hear those words leaving his mouth.

“And?”

“I messed up,” he admits, surprising you.

His eyes are locked on yours, no smirk, no teasing in his voice.

“I thought I could just… walk away. But I can’t.”

It’s not like Gojo to be vulnerable. The words hang between you, heavy and real in a way that most of your conversations with him never were.

You’re silent for a moment, the hurt still fresh despite the months that have passed.

“You always think you can fix things with words, Satoru. But this isn’t something you can just smooth over.”

His gaze softens, the boldness slipping just a little.

“I know. But I want to try.”

You don’t know how to respond. This is what you’d wanted for so long. For him to admit it, to take things seriously. But now that it’s happening, you feel more conflicted than ever. You’d built walls around your heart, braced yourself for the fact that he wasn’t coming back.

And here he is, asking for another chance.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you murmur, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

For once, Gojo doesn’t have a snappy comeback. He just nods, as if he’s expected this answer. His hand moves toward yours, but he stops short, fingers hovering above the table.

“Just… think about it, okay?”

Thinking about it another minute after crying yourself to sleep over those constant thought around him? You don’t know if you can. But you nod anyway, more for his sake than your own. There’s no use in arguing with him. Not here, not now. Not when your feelings are scattered all over the comforting café.

He gets up, his usual swagger returning as he pulls on his jacket. His hand touches your shoulder so slightly that you would’ve missed it normally.

But not when it’s him. Not when his fingertips brush like fire over your skin. Not when you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch for months. Your head goes numb, glossy eyes staring up in search for something, anything that snaps you back into reality.

“I’ll be around.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you alone in your spot - wondering if this place will ever feel the same again, wondering if he was honest.

Geto Suguru

It feels strange to be back here, almost surreal.

The old bookstore is tucked between two more modern shops, easy to miss unless you’re looking for it. You used to love coming here: quiet, the smell of old books, the dim lighting that gave it an intimate, almost sacred atmosphere. It had been your spot. Your escape when life felt too heavy. But now, after everything with Suguru, the air feels heavier wherever you go.

You step inside, the familiar scent of paper and ink hitting you immediately. For a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. But as your eyes scan the shelves, your heart stops.

He’s here.

Geto Suguru, standing by the philosophy section, his back turned to you. His long black hair is tied back like it always was, and his posture is as relaxed as ever. He looks like he belongs here, like he’s just another part of the quiet serenity of this place. But to you, he’s a storm.

You stand frozen, unsure of what to do. It’s been months since the breakup, since things fell apart between you two. And yet, seeing him here, in your sanctuary, feels like a breach of some unspoken boundary. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too absorbed in whatever book he’s holding.

You could leave, slip out before he sees you. But something keeps you rooted to the spot. Maybe it’s the unresolved tension between you. Maybe it’s the questions that still linger in your mind, unanswered since the day he walked away.

Before you can decide, he turns.

And his eyes lock onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you move. His expression remains unreadable, that calm mask he always wore in place. But there’s something in his eyes, something that flickers and fades too quickly for you to grasp.

“Hey,” he speaks up softly, his voice like a distant echo of something once familiar.

You swallow, feeling a tightness in your throat that reminds you of all those countless tears you’ve cried over that boy.

“Hi.”

There’s a brief silence, thick with everything unsaid between you. He takes a small step closer, still holding the book in his hand, though his attention is entirely on you now.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You give a short, humorless laugh.

“Neither did I.”

He glances around, his eyes tracing the old shelves, the worn chairs, the little alcove where the two of you used to sit for hours, lost in conversation.

“Still your favorite spot?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to maintain some distance, some control over the situation. Oh, how much you hate to admit it. You’d never say it out loud, but somehow you are trapped to this place. Trapped in memories, trapped in those whiskey eyes darting back and forth written pages.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

Suguru’s gaze returns to you, and for the first time, there’s a hint of something in his expression. Regret, maybe? Or something close to it.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“I get that.”

Another silence stretches between you, and you can feel the weight of the past pressing down on both of you. This was where you used to come together, where things between you felt simple, uncomplicated. But now, with the distance and the hurt still lingering, it feels like everything is just… broken.

“What are you doing here, Suguru?” you finally blurt out, your voice softer than you intended.

You’re not sure if you’re asking why he’s in the bookstore or why he’s in your life at all.

He looks down at the book in his hand for a moment, then back at you.

“I’ve been thinking. About us. About how things ended. It’s like I’m glued to this place. Or well, rather to you.”

You inhale sharply, your chest tightening at the mention of us.

“It didn’t end well,” you remark, the bitterness slipping into your tone despite your efforts to keep it out.

“I know,” he murmurs, and there’s no defensiveness in his voice, no argument.

 Just quiet acceptance.

“I didn’t handle things the way I should have.”

That catches you off guard. Geto Suguru was always so sure of himself, so unwavering in his convictions, even when it hurt. Hearing him admit to a mistake feels almost foreign.

You blink, not sure how to respond.

“What do you want, Suguru?”

He steps closer, the distance between you shrinking, though there’s still an ocean of emotions that neither of you knows how to cross.

“I want to talk. To explain.”

You feel your heart clench, torn between the desire to finally hear his side and the fear of reopening wounds that haven’t fully healed.

“Explain what? Why you left? Why you just… disappeared?”

His expression softens, and for a moment, the mask slips. You see the Suguru you once knew, the one who used to look at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“It wasn’t about you. I left because… I wasn’t right. I wasn’t in a place where I could be with you the way you deserved.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to process his words, but the hurt is still there, raw and real.

“You could have told me. I would’ve understood.”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” he continues, and there’s a sadness in his voice that you haven’t heard before.

“I thought… I thought leaving was the right thing to do. That it would make things easier.”

You shake your head, emotions swirling inside you, too many to untangle.

“It didn’t. It just made things worse.”

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to justify himself. He just stands there, watching you with an expression that’s equal parts regret and something you can’t quite name.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

The apology hangs in the air, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. It’s what you’ve wanted to hear for so long, but now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel like enough.

But maybe nothing ever will.

You sigh, feeling the weight of the past months pressing down on you.

“Suguru… I don’t know if we can go back to how things were.”

“I’m not asking for that,” he replies quickly.

“I just… I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. And that I didn’t leave because of you. It was me.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The emotions are too tangled, too raw. But maybe, just maybe, this is a start. An acknowledgment of the pain, of the mistakes. A step toward healing.

“I should go,” you say after a moment, your voice soft but firm.

He doesn’t try to stop you, but there’s a lingering look in his eyes as you turn to leave.

“Take care of yourself,” he breathes out, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You nod, and before you really know what happens, you find yourself in front of him, your nose caressed by his signature smell hanging in the air, your arms aiming for the back of his neck.

Before you really know what happens, Suguru devours you into his strong arms, pressing you against his pounding heart, the warmth of his body you missed so deeply.

“Just a moment”, you mutter against his chest.

“Give me just one second, let me feel this again.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s quiet here, the way it always is.

The park bench tucked beneath the large oak tree was your refuge long before you even met Megumi. It’s where you’ve come to think, to escape, to just breathe. But ever since the breakup, it feels… different. As if something’s been stolen from the air, leaving it heavy and suffocating.

You sit down on the bench, pulling your coat tighter against the breeze, and stare out at the trees swaying gently in the wind. The peace you once felt here seems unreachable now. No matter how hard you try to reclaim this place as yours, there’s still a part of it that belongs to him.

And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, you see him.

Megumi is standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his usual stoic expression slightly softened by the dappled light filtering through the branches. He hasn’t noticed you yet, his eyes focused on something in the distance, lost in thought.

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, since everything fell apart between you. The last time you saw him, it was in the heat of an argument, words flying like knives, both of you too stubborn to back down. But now, standing there under the shadow of the oak tree, he looks so… normal. Like nothing’s changed. Like he’s still the boy you fell hopelessly in love with.

You wonder if he feels the same knot of tension that’s twisting in your stomach, or if he’s moved on already, like everything between you was just another fleeting chapter in his life. Did he miss you like you’ve missed him? Does he think of you from time to time?

Before you can decide whether to leave or stay, his eyes shift, and they land on you.

He freezes, his posture stiffening slightly, though his expression remains unreadable. For a moment, neither of you moves. You can’t tell if the look on his face is surprise, regret, or something else entirely. All you know is that seeing him here feels like reopening a wound that hasn’t fully healed.

“Hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence before it becomes unbearable.

“Hey,” he echoes, his voice low, almost cautious.

You shift on the bench, not sure whether to stand or stay seated. There’s an awkwardness in the air, thick and uncomfortable, but Megumi doesn’t seem motivated to move either. Instead, he stays where he is, watching you with those intense, dark eyes of his - the same eyes that used to look at you with warmth, with something close to tenderness. Now, they’re guarded, carefully concealing whatever he’s feeling.

“What are you doing here?” you question, your voice steadier than you feel.

He shrugs, his gaze briefly flickering away before coming back to you.

 “I’ve always come here. Before we even met.”

The admission stings a little, reminding you that this park, this bench, wasn’t just yours. It was his too. A shared space that neither of you seemed ready to give up, even after the breakup.

“Yeah, same”, you murmur.

Another silence falls between you, but this one feels different. Less strained, more… cautious. Like both of you are waiting for the other to make the next move, to say something that might break the tension or, at the very least, acknowledge it.

Megumi takes a small step closer, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

“How have you been?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s such a simple, normal thing to ask, but coming from him, it feels loaded. You hesitate for a moment before answering.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. It’s been hard, but I’m getting through it.”

He nods, his expression still unreadable.

“Good.”

You glance up at him, studying his face, searching for some sign of what he’s thinking. Megumi was always hard to read, even when things were good between you. He had a habit of keeping his emotions buried, only letting them slip through in small, subtle ways: a twitch of his mouth, the way his eyes would soften just slightly when he looked at you. Now, though, you’re not sure what he’s holding back. Does he even care about you?

“What about you?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“How’ve you been?”

He shifts his weight slightly, his eyes flicking away for just a second before meeting yours again.

“I’ve been… okay too. I guess.”

The honesty in his voice surprises you. Megumi was never one for unnecessary words, but hearing him admit that he’s been struggling too sends a small wave of relief through you. Maybe it’s selfish, but knowing that this hasn’t been easy for him either makes you feel less alone in your own pain.

You lower your gaze, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Being here. Like nothing’s changed, but everything has.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his voice is soft, thoughtful.

“Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the quiet of the park settling around you. It’s strange, but in a way, it feels almost peaceful. As if the weight of your shared history, of everything that’s happened, is still there but somehow lighter now that you’re both acknowledging it.

Finally, Megumi breaks the silence again.

“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the rawness in his voice cutting through the distance between you. You glance up at him, and for the first time since you saw him standing there, his mask slips. There’s a flicker of regret in his eyes, something he’s trying to keep hidden but can’t fully suppress.

“I didn’t either,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks down at the ground, his brows furrowing slightly as if he’s wrestling with something inside him.

“I don’t know if we can fix this,” he admits, his tone uncertain in a way that Megumi rarely is.

“But… I don’t want to pretend like none of it mattered.”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means. There’s no easy fix for what happened between you. The arguments, the misunderstandings, the way you both pushed each other away instead of reaching out - it all still lingers, heavy and unresolved. But that doesn’t erase what you had. It doesn’t make it any less real.

“I don’t either. It mattered. It still matters.”

For a moment, you think he might say more, but then he just nods, the weight of the conversation settling between you. There’s no grand reconciliation, no dramatic declarations of love or promises to try again. Just the simple truth that what you shared was real, and that it’s okay for it to still mean something, even if it’s over.

Megumi exhales softly, his breath misting in the cool air.

“Is it okay if I…Sit next to you for a moment?”

Your eyes dart up, search for a single spark of sarcasm in the ocean of his eyes. Is this a test, a joke by any chance? No, despite all the things that happened between you, Megumi would never do this to you. This is a real request.

“I-…Of course”, you mutter, scooting over so that he doesn’t have to touch you while awkwardly sitting down.

“Do you remember when Yuji caught us together for the first time? It was right here. On this bench.”

The warmth that fills your heart is almost instantly replaced by the familiar sting you know so well by know. Oh, if he only knew how often you replayed that memory inside your head, how many nights you thought about the way his lips felt against yours that day. And now you might never be able to feel him again like that. He’ll never look at you like he did that day.

“He was acting ridiculous”, you comment with a melancholic little laughter.

“I still owe him for it”, he remarks with low voice.

“After all, he made me realize what I felt for you. And that I never lost that spark.”

Your heart almost stops beating, hands now shaking so violently that you are forces to cling onto them. Did he really just say that? Megumi, who didn’t even text or call a single time after the breakup, who did his best to avoid you. Is he serious? He can’t be.

“(y/n), I…I never really stopped loving you. That’s why I’m coming here every free minute, that’s why I’m sitting on the other end of this park while watching you from afar. I can’t…I just can’t let go. But maybe this isn’t the right timing and I should let you go.”

Your mouth feels dry like the desert, glossy eyes locking with his. Is this a dream, another nightmare that haunts you far past midnight? Out of trance, you grab his hand and engulf it with your shaky one. It feels like it always did. Warm, comforting. But somehow, it’s killing you inside.

Megumi doesn’t flinch back. Instead, he returns the pressure of your palms, intertwines his fingers with yours. What an innocent and yet intimate gesture: Holding hands during the sunset at fall, the heavy feelings of your past lingering over both of you like an unpromising shadow.

For minutes. Or no, rather hours. Until all the lights are down low and the whole park has gone empty. Until it’s only you and him left.

“I should go,” he says after a moment, his voice gentle.

You nod, not trusting yourself to say more. There’s a part of you that wants to ask him to stay, to keep talking, but you know that some things are better left unsaid for now.

As he turns to leave after returning you home, you watch him walk away, his figure slowly disappearing among the trees. And for the first time in weeks, the park doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

Sukuna

You didn’t come here to see him.

In fact, you come to this place to escape everything, to clear your head, to get some distance from the chaos of life. The abandoned temple ruins, tucked away deep in the forest, have always been your sanctuary. A place where you could sit in the quiet and feel the world stop spinning for a little while. You hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even him.

But the moment you step into the clearing, you feel it. A presence. A dark, heavy energy that coils around you like a cold hand gripping your throat.

And then you see him.

Sukuna, or rather, Yuji’s body twisted into something darker, sharper, lounging casually on one of the broken stone pillars. His blood-red eyes gleam as they lock onto you, his mouth curling into a wicked grin. The sight of him, so comfortable and out of place here, makes your stomach churn. How did he even find this place? Why is he here?

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sukuna drawls, his voice a deep rumble that’s too smug for comfort.

“You always did have good taste.”

You stop dead in your tracks, heart pounding, your mind racing with a million questions. But the most prominent one is simple: Why?

“This is my spot,” you bite back, your voice firmer than you feel.

You can’t let him know how unnerved you are, how your whole body threatens to shiver any given minute.

“What are you doing here?”

Sukuna chuckles, stretching like a predator lounging in the sun, completely at ease.

“Your spot?”

He mocks the words, his tone dripping with amusement.

“I think you’ve forgotten who I am, haven’t you? I go where I please.”

There’s a tension in the air, thick and oppressive. You want to turn around and leave, but something about the way his eyes are watching you, like he’s waiting for something, keeps you rooted to the ground. This is different from every other time you’ve encountered Sukuna. He’s always been cruel, detached, but there’s something sharper in the way he’s looking at you now. Something personal.

You swallow, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“If you’re here to mess with me, just get it over with,” you snap, crossing your arms.

You’ve dealt with enough of Sukuna’s games to know that nothing good comes from engaging with him and that he’s only here to waste your time and watch you bleed.

“I don’t have time for this.”

His grin widens, showing sharp teeth.

“You wound me,” he purrs, though the mockery in his voice makes it clear he’s far from wounded.

“I’m not here to ‘mess with you,’ as you so delicately put it. I was curious.”

You blink, not expecting that answer.

“Curious about what?”

Sukuna stands slowly, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. He doesn’t approach you, but the distance between you feels smaller now, suffocating.

“Curious about what you see in him,” he replies, his voice low and dangerous.

It takes you a second to realize what he means.

Yuji.

He’s talking about Yuji.

Your heart skips a beat, a rush of emotions flooding you all at once. Sukuna must have picked up on it, the way your face changes ever so slightly, because his smirk grows darker.

“You think I don’t know?” he continues, his voice like velvet laced with poison.

“You think I haven’t noticed how you look at him? How you cling to him like he’s your salvation?”

You grit your teeth, a flush of anger rising in your chest.

“Leave Yuji out of this. You don’t get to talk about him.”

Sukuna laughs, a low, menacing sound that vibrates through the air.

“Oh, but he’s right here, isn’t he?”

He gestures to himself, his hand sliding down the front of his chest as if to remind you that this is Yuji’s body he’s wearing.

“Every time you look at me, you’re seeing him.”

Your fists clench at your sides. You want to tell him he’s wrong, that you know the difference, that you feel the difference between the two of them. But the truth is, it hurts. Seeing Yuji’s face twisted into Sukuna’s cruel smirk, hearing his voice warped into something vicious - it tears at you in ways you can’t fully explain.

“You hate me,” Sukuna says, his voice softening slightly, though the malice never leaves his eyes.

“But you can’t ignore me. I’m a part of him. And a part of you still cares, doesn’t it?”

You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you and the words he’s throwing at you like knives.

“I don’t care about you,” you snap, your voice shaking.

“I care about Yuji.”

Sukuna’s smile fades slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you sure?” he questions, his tone mocking but tinged with something deeper.

“Or is it just easier to pretend? To lie to yourself and say that you can separate the two of us? That when you look at him, you’re not also looking at me?”

You can’t respond, because deep down, some part of you has always been afraid of that. Afraid that Sukuna is right, that his presence taints every interaction, every moment you’ve had with Yuji. The thought of it makes your skin crawl, and yet, here you are, standing in front of him, unable to tear your eyes away.

Sukuna steps closer now, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate whisper.

“You can run from this all you want. But you’ll never escape me. I’m always going to be there, in the back of your mind, in the space between your thoughts. Just waiting.”

You feel a chill run down your spine, the weight of his words pressing down on you. But instead of giving in to the fear, you force yourself to look him in the eyes.

“You’re wrong,” you mutter, though your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yuji’s stronger than you think. He’ll get rid of you.”

For a moment, Sukuna just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then, to your surprise, he laughs - a deep, genuine sound that seems to shake the very air around you.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he remarks, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“That’s what makes this so entertaining.”

Without warning, he turns away, as if dismissing you entirely, his attention now on the sky above the ruins.

“Enjoy your little sanctuary while you can,” he shouts over his shoulder, his voice low and ominous.

“It won’t last forever.”

And with that, he disappears, leaving you standing alone in the clearing, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind spinning.

For a moment, you just stand there, letting the silence of the forest settle around you. But even though Sukuna is gone, the weight of his presence lingers, clinging to the air like a dark cloud.

You hate him. You hate the way he twists everything, makes you question yourself, makes you question Yuji. But deep down, you know that no matter how hard you try to separate them, Sukuna’s right about one thing - he’s always going to be there. And that’s a truth you’re going to have to face

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[cheriden]

「 my "i love you" 」 | pt. 2 。。。

He maneuvers to block your path, grip on your arms bordering painful. “I love you–”

“You’re drunk.” You hiss, nails digging into his shoulders as you drag him to the front door. “You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?” Huffing, you gather his things together and shove them to his chest.

── synopsis 。Your best friend with benefits seeks clarity on your relationship

pairing 。switch!top choi beomgyu x f! reader

.ᐟ genre 。angst, smut, fluff

.ᐟ tags 。fwb to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, arguing, pet names, frotting, a lot of kissing, breeding, idk what else

.ᐟ status & word count 。two-parts | 3.54k

part 1 | part 2

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。not proofread, sorry this took so long. enjoy!

Droplets fall rapidly against your windowsill, thunder clapping when the lightning’s glow hits Beomgyu’s face—highly alluring as his muddy puppy eyes drown in yours so intensely, so vast.

It makes you feel like absolute shit.

Your stomach bubbles over as you wrap your hands around his, retracting them from its hold on your face. It’s heavier without it. He looks at you in concern, confused at your end goal.

He’s patient, oh so patient. It almost makes you seethe with anger at how much he still doesn’t understand. Giving up with a sigh, you look away from him. “Is that any better?”

Beomgyu observes you with knitted brows, trying to come up with a solution and an answer as if it were a math equation. “I don’t,” cutting himself off, he blinks frantically, looking for the right thing to say. “Why are we even here then? You wanted it in the first place!”

You don’t have an answer. The only plausible one would be to tell him that it’s because you love him, how much pain it brings you to continue going on like this with someone who doesn’t feel the same, how sad it leaves you when he walks out the door.

You swear as you pick up and put on the pile of clothes strewn on the floor, frustrated at all of the sudden rush of emotions that make you answer in blunt, meaningless venom. “I was bored and horny months ago. Now I don’t want any of this.” The brunette’s face is laced with hurt, chest huffing and nostrils flaring. “I’m not your personal vibrator. You can’t just boss me around or order me whenever you need me.” Hands reaching to massage your temples, you hiss, “I never asked you to be any of that! You—”

“I’m just a glorified dildo to you. That’s all you ever call me for anyway.” Scoffing, you storm off into the bathroom, washing yourself off the filth on your hands, on your arms. “I’m just a pocket pussy to you!” You scream back, “Don’t think you’re on the losing end here.”

“How lucky of me,” He fires back, stomping into the foyer. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t even text me.” He hurriedly ties his laces, more or less falling over himself as he takes his anger out on the doorknob. “I wasn’t planning to, prick!.” He shoves a middle finger up into your face, one last gesture before he’s slamming the door, sound echoing through the hollow apartment.

The weather doesn’t cease, quite the opposite. Precipitate thuds and crashes heavily, thunder roaring as the lightning halfway blinds you from how close it is. On the ground is Beomgyu’s brown automatic umbrella, still wet from earlier. You palm its button, taking a long breath, unlocking your door.

Looking around, almost everything is shrouded in rain and fog. You hold tightly onto the umbrella, wind howling prior to it nearly knocking you back along with it. You don’t see him, don’t know which direction he went.

You curse at yourself for not knowing, you curse at Beomgyu for leaving. You beat yourself up for being too big of a pussy to actually say something, anything helpful to him.

The umbrella finds itself useless, tears streaming down your face. With drenched clothes and wet slippers, you trudge back into your apartment and overthink yourself to sleep on the couch.

You’re pathetic. Really pathetic. But maybe it’s just the flu making you extra emotional. Sobbing into your blankets, it doubles as a makeshift tissue box—burrowing your red, inflamed nose against it. It’s gross, and you should really go to bed, but your friends said they’d swing by to drop something off at your place; something to make you feel better.

As you answer the door, you take in the irony— the latter phrase couldn’t be more wrong. He’s here, a few inches away from your grasp, but he’s here. He’s drunk and blinking very hard in hopes that he can gain balance, but he’s here.

Beomgyu raises the bag of warm food in a translucent plastic bag, waving it in front of your face. Not really sure what to say anymore, you move away from the door to let him in. He rambles about the empty cupboards and kitchen counters—setting down the insulated tupperwares he brought. A fog of vapor releases into the air when he opens one of them. It’s tempting, and you’re really sick and really tired, not to mention hungry. Regardless, you stand your ground; if staring at him waiting for him to explain counts. He apologizes, says he’s been busy; though you already knew that. He knows you know, knows he’s just filling awkward space. The both of you just wait for each other to say something. A tired drunk versus a tired sick person who’s sort of drunk on cough syrup. “Your umbrella is by the doorframe.” The look on his face says he’s unsure what to make of that. Were you just stating a fact? Did you think it’s what he came for? Or did you want him to leave so badly? His breathing is shaky, anxiety catching up to him as he busies himself with the take-out. “I can buy another one any day,” He lies through his teeth. You know, because he’s treasured it and it’s brown bear print since the day you met. “I heard the others say you were sick, and I came.”

“You stopped your drinking session to come visit me?” It’s earnest curiosity, mixed with a hint of attitude. “I stopped by to check on you, I was worried about you–us.” An eyebrow raises as you watch the other shift stiffly in his seat. “Us?” His gaze backs down, palming the back of his neck. “Yeah, us. We left things on a weird note last time.” Head spinning, you slouch into one of the chairs. “Beoms,” He lights up at the acknowledgement, deflating once he sees the concerned look on your face. “I’m really tired, I think you should leave. I’ll pay you back for the food some other time.”

Without warning, he springs across the table, clutching your face and pressing down hard on your lips. His teeth gnash against your unmoving ones, frantic to get you moving. When you do, it’s a shove to his shoulders, causing him to stumble backwards. “Beomgyu, what the fuck?” The brunette winces at your tone, panicking when you get up to back away from him. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah and eating my face off is part of the plan?” You retort, shaking off the wrist that holds you in place. “I know I’m sorry!” He maneuvers to block your path, grip on your arms bordering painful. “I love you–”

“You’re drunk.” You hiss, nails digging into his shoulders as you drag him to the front door. “You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?” Huffing, you gather his things together and shove them to his chest.

You want to be mad. You want to curse him out for everything he’s unknowingly put you through, but when you see his face, so remorseful and full of hurt and you remember how it’s not even his fault. “Get your shit together. Call me when you're sober and I’m not on cough syrup; so we can both think clearly.” Eager is an understatement, immediately nodding as he drops all his things to drape his arms around you. He hugs as if he’s afraid of how you’d look at him when you part, as if separating from you would be so wrong it was almost inhuman. Still, he detaches himself. “Okay.”

You think you’ve been standing outside his apartment complex for about twenty minutes. Anxiety eats away at your stomach acid, tapping your foot on the ground as you stare at Beomgyu’s last message.

It’s the right place, same structure on maps and easy to find, though maybe you’re trying to come up with a reason not to push through with this. You didn’t even know he transferred buildings, taken by surprise at the random notification that pinged your phone at three in the morning. After viewing it, the confrontation with him plagued your mind, scenarios running wildly in your head as you overthink every possible outcome.

A shy smile graces Beomgyu’s face when he lets you in, easing the apprehension a little. The area is cluttered with all types of trinkets and memorabilia from him and his roommates, though you can see how his stands out to you the most. There’s a cute wall full of photo strips from all of his friends, though none containing you had caught your eye. The unease makes its way back to you, gulping down as he guides you across the studio, passing the living area and miscellaneous doors. “I’ll get you something to drink. You can just sit on the bed–or on the floor, or–it doesn’t really matter.” With that he leaves, and you’re greeted by a plethora of mixed ornaments: A few instruments lazily strewn against the walls and racks, study desk devoid of any actual study material—replaced by a new curved flatscreen for his desktop, posters for different genres of music and fiction neatly arranged on one wall.

You stop to inspect the cork board behind the monitor; a few photos of the two of you taped and pinned along with random receipts and to-do lists. Your heart sinks a little, recalling the abrupt confession from nearly a week ago. You know what he said, but it’s best not to get your hopes up, you’re his closest friend after all. Beomgyu kicks the door open with mild force, startling you. He huffs out a chuckle, “I don’t actually have anything, so I just got us water.” With a nod, you flump onto the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs. For a while, the two of you just sit there, staring at each other. Your eyes bare into his, cheeks flaring up as collateral as he blurts out, “I meant it. Everything I said the other night.” You set the glass slowly onto the nightstand, shifting up the bed. The brunette mimics your actions, making sure you don’t run away or divert away from him. “I think you’re confused, Gyu.” His lids shut in frustration, gnawing back a portion of his cheeks. “No you don’t–” You cut him off, rambling. “It’s my fault, ever since I asked you to sleep with me we’ve been blurring the lines a bit too far.”

He charges at you, palm clasped over your face. “You’re not listening to me.” Through muffled protests, you exclaim, “But–” Another hand pushes you against the headboard, “You never listen to me. All you do is make assumptions about how I feel and how it’s affecting me when you don’t even let me speak for myself. I told you I love you and you shut me up, like you’re telling me how I feel.” The weight of his body nearly crushes you, eyes sealed as you feel the comforting pressure numbing your nerves. “I know how I fucking feel. I’ve never been so sure of anything—ever. So no, I’m not going to let you bitch about how things should be going between us without my decision.” He bites down on the plump of his lips, trying to find the words to say. “You don’t give a shit about me, and I let it slide because I’m so desperate for anything you do. I run miles the minute you text me to come over, or did you not even know I moved?” Shying away in guilt has him laughing madly, tugging the ends of his own hair. “See? You only think about yourself like the selfish prick you are. Everything is always about you.”

His laughter dies down, liquid drops cascading onto your shirt. “Do I really mean that little to you? What else do you want from me?” Your words are lost in between the silence and the steady sniffling, gazing up slowly to meet his own. What else can you say? What do you want? How blind could you have been to ignore Beomgyu, your best friend over everything else?

So you don’t say anything.

You lean forward, prolonged eye contact undisturbed as your breath fans his lips. It’s agonizing, how slow you both are—if any of you are moving at all. His lips brush against yours, sighing into you—it’s as sweet as nectarine. He takes you in like he’s never eaten anything better, yet restraining himself from hasty gestures, savoring every turn of your tongue and groove of your mouth. Your body slants against his, shifting upwards as he wraps your legs around his, hands on the meat of your thighs. His body stutters, reluctantly pulling away. “Let’s… We should stop now. Before one of us gets hurt.”

Your face softens, taking his hands in yours and peppering his fingers with delicate pecks. “I would never dream of hurting you, baby.” He melts onto your shoulders, burying himself in your collarbone. “I don’t want things to stay as they are.” He comments as you kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair as your other hand thumbs over his knuckles. “I don’t want things to stay as they are either.”

He jumps up at the revelation, breathing unrhythmically. “And if it ruins our friendship?” You kiss the knot off the brows on his forehead, planting them on spots of visible tension strewn across his face. “Then we’d still be lovers, no?” Your words have Beomgyu in a trance, and he thinks he’s lucid dreaming. “Lovers?” You hum in agreement, tucking the stray strands of brown behind his ear. “Do you not want that?”

“Of course!” He blurts, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “I mean, of course I do. With you. Only you.”

“Only me?” You tease, but he takes it at face value, pleading. “Only you. Forever.”

“That’s cheesy.” He scoffs, pushing you down on his bed. “Shut up, you want me.”

“I do. Only you.” To that he grins, giggly and innocent as if he wasn’t grinding his knee into your cunt. “I wanna taste you.” You hoist his chin up, stopping him from going down on you. “Baby,” You coo, “you’re so cute. But I think I owe you head today.” Lips parting, he wastes no time ridding himself of his sweats. “And for the last million times.” He retorts in a half joke. “I know, I’m so sorry.” Pouting for sympathy, you rub your cheek against his underwear. “I’ll make sure to make up for all of it.” He stifles a moan, hips moving at nothing. “My needy prince.” Disregarding your teasing, he focuses on the movements of your fingers, skilled and articulated as they work his cock. “That’s gonna take forever.” He replies, earning a shrug from you. “We have the time.”

You trace the shape of its head, licking and kissing it until you stop at his balls, repeating over and over again until he tells you to stop. With a deep breath, you take as much of him as you can, hitting the back of your throat as he screams. All the sounds you’re making go straight to his dick, Forearms covering his eyes. You reach to swat them away, forcing his eyes on you—you do the same. He whimpers when you hump the mattress below him, slick staining the sheets. His hands intertwine with yours, staring straight at the sight as he bucks into your mouth.

“‘M sorry, so weak.” He’s gasping for air, palms flat on the back of your head, shoving you down his length. “Can’t control it–need your mouth.” Your cunt throbs with every grunt he makes, nose hitting his skin. His noises get louder, pitch raising. “No–stop—” But you don’t listen, hands on his ass while he pushes your face off him. He wants to see you, see you blissed-out painted in his seed when he comes. You don’t let him, swallowing around his dick as you take every pump of cum that flows into your mouth. He falls over your shoulder gasping, grabbing your head to meet his with a kiss. “You’re so mean, I thought today was about me?” You hum, crawling back up the headboard and discarding the rest of your clothing. “So you didn’t like it? ‘Cause I can—”

He cuts you off immediately, shaking his head fervently. “No! I just wanna see your face.”

“Aw, did my baby miss me that much?” You coo, “It was only a week.” With a huff, he lines his member and rubs it against your wet pussy. “A week too long.” Laughing, you caress his cheek, fingers kissed by him. “We’ll do it as much and as long as you like.” He ruts harder against you, moans filling up the room. “You’ll be the death of me.”

You snarl, impatient. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

He only slides the tip in you, smirk growing as he watches you writhe for friction.

Beomgyu watches the crease in your brows, the quiver of your lips, the restlessness of your arms. He kisses every feature of you he can, filing the memories away. “I love you.”

You're barely able to mumble it back as he bottoms out, a resounding thud sounding from the base of his dick and onto your ass. “God, you feel so fucking good.” He rolls his hips slow and deep, eyes trained on you—watching your mouth fall open and close. You don’t make any noise, but he’s here to change that. Pressing down on your stomach, he feels the outline of his cock as it moves in and out, the bulge so visible you shut your eyes closed in embarrassment. You gasp when he bends down to kiss you again, hold on your chin steady as he directs it to the view that connects the two of you. After a few seconds, he pulls your face to meet his. “You’re gonna watch me. And I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make.” Without warning, he pummels into you, your back arching off the sheets and drool pours from your mouth when he hooks his thumb into it. “B–Beomgyu—”

“Mine…All mine now—gonna ruin you for anyone else.” You whine and thrash underneath him, fingernails digging into his arms as he plays with the nub of your clit. “Nobody else’s, only yours.” He chuckles, “That’s right, love. Where do you want it?” You can barely string words together, fucked out beyond belief as his thrusts get harder, loosing rhythm. “Inside!” His cock pulses at your words, slowing down to stop himself from coming.

“You want it inside? Want me to breed you full of cum?” He says in a low voice, hands roaming your body while licking at your tits.

You’re so animated, every part of your body moving against his for relief, holding back a moan when your hole clenched around him. “Filthy… But you’re my baby, and I love you so, so much. Of course I’ll give you what you want.” He picks up the pace, hips pounding into you relentlessly—the sound of skin slapping mixed with the smell of sex is as suffocating as it is intoxicating.

You’re loud and screaming a slurry of words you aren’t even sure make sense, cock-drunk as he fucks you through your first orgasm. It’s not long before a second one barrels through you, walls clenching tighter as he spills his own seed inside, milky white and full as he makes you ride out both your highs.

Your cum mixes as it pools around your ass and the base of his dick. He litters your face and body with kisses, stopping at your lips to devour it hungrily. It’s all drool, hot gasps of air shared when you disconnect with a line of spit.

He doesn’t pull out, staring at the sight for a few seconds before carefully settling at the space next to you, making sure not a single drop leaks out.

“Just to be clear, we’re dating now right?” “Yes, you idiot. Did you not hear anything I said? Did you ignore the part where I agreed to you breeding me?” His face flushes, hiding himself between the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Just making sure.” Beomgyu snakes his arm on top of your waist, draping a leg onto it and sighing, content.

“….So nobody else, right?” You groan, turning your head to face him. It’s hard, and you wince at the position change when his dick prods around inside you, cum leaking onto the sheets. “Nobody else.” You reply, resting your head back against his chest. “Only you.”

We hit 300 (what would've been 500+) notes on part 1 !!

thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs, and tags for support towards the algorithm appreciated♡

[httpiastri]

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

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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."

[minminyoonjii]

Omggg okay so I was wondering if you could an ot8 “ when you start becoming bratty. ” except Reader is usually a good girl and is well behaved. I’m sorry idk where this came from😭😭😭

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Gender Neutral! Reader|Oversensory|Cursing|Crying|SpankingImplied|Hair Tugging|PopsicleDeepthroat|Hurt/Comfort|Condesending Tone|Dom Drop||Degrading Praise Kink|Angry Caregivers|Disbelief|Force Regression|Implied Blow Job

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.4K

Scenario

You clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated with everything. The clothes you wore, the way you looked, how you stood. Everything. "What the fuck is wrong with me," you grumbled, shaking your leg at the sudden sensory overstimulation. You took a deep breath and decided to scroll through your phone to pass the time. Your Caregiver Title came home, and the loud door closing knocked you off. You glared at the hallway, huffing in annoyance.

Bang Chan

Chan hummed walking in, intentionally pissing you off even more. You sighed through your nose and tried not to snap at him. "Hello, baby. How was your day, hm?" he asked, setting down his backpack. You rolled your eyes, "Good," you replied curtly. Chan tilted his head at your tone, "What was that?" he asked, questioning if he misheard. You groaned, "What?" you asked, glaring at him. Chan straightened his posture, "You know better than to speak to me that way," he said, eyeing you down.  "So what," you huffed, wanting the silence back. Chan chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine, "I'm going to ask you one more time, little one. What's with your attitude?" he asked, gripping your jaw. Sobs bubbled from your throat, the over-sensory tipping off the edge. You explained to him as best as you could through your sobs. Chan sighed and held you close, "You surprised me, little one. Daddy knows you've always been good," he said, pampering you after. 

Lee Minho

Minho stood in the hallway, acknowledging your glare, "Who are you glaring at?" he asked, walking towards you. "The wall," you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Minho raised an eyebrow, "What did the wall do to you?" he asked, prodding at your grumpy behaviour. You huffed, "Can you shut up," you said, gritting your teeth. Minho's eyes widened, not expecting you to snap at him, "What's wrong? And you better not lie," he warned, cracking the joints in his neck.  You scoff in disbelief, "Nothing is wrong. You're just fucking annoying," you grumbled, scrolling through your phone to avoid his eyes. Minho hummed, "Say that again, I dare you," he said, clenching his jaw. You puffed your cheeks, "I don't want to," you muttered, gripping your phone. Minho chuckled, "Fine,"  he said, laying you across his lap. You yelped, "Fuck you," you cursed, squirming to get off. Minho held tight, "Maybe after a few spanks, I fucking will," he grunted, tugging down your pants.

Seo Changbin

"Agi-ah!" Changbin yelled, making you roll your eyes. Changbin smiled, instantly wrapping his arms around you, "Aigoo, Bin missed you," he cooed. You grunted, hating the feeling of warmth from the hug, "Get the fuck off me," you cursed, trying to push him off. Changbin paused at your tone, "Hm?" he questioned, thinking he heard wrong. "Ugh, get off," you huffed, squirming out of his grip. Changbin stood there with his jaw dropped, "What?" he whispered, processing the whole thing. You rolled your eyes and continued scrolling through your phone. Changbin clenched his jaw, "Why are you mad?" he asked, pushing his hair back. "Why are you mad?" you mimicked, sticking your tongue at him. Changbin scoffed in disbelief, "Are you going to talk properly or do I have to force you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You glared at him, "Fucking make me then," you said, gritting your teeth. Changbin smirked, pushing you down to your knees and forced his thumb into your mouth, "Open," he instructed, unzipping his jeans.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin felt uneasy as he walked through the hallway, "Love?" he asked, flinching when he saw your glare. "Whoa. Why? Why are you mad?" he asked, confused by your behaviour. You sighed, "Nothing," you grumbled, hating the way your hair brushed against your neck. Hyunjin tilted his head, normally at this point, he would contact for back up but he decided to confront you alone. "Don't you want to tell Papa what's wrong? Maybe Papa has a solution," he coaxed, grabbing your sippy cup and filling it with juice.  Your anger wavered briefly, "Fuck off with that, I can handle my own problems," you said, looking away. Hyunjin gulped but remained calm, "Aww, but doesn't Papa always help you, hm?" he asked, noticing your eyes flicker. You lowered your head, "Don't want it," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers. Hyunjin smirked, "Fine then, Papa will just use your sippy cup. This juice tastes very yummy," he said, turning around. "Papa," you whimpered, jutting your bottom lip when Hyunjin knew you slipped.

Han Jisung

"Sweetheart, I'm home," Jisung sang, walking down the hallway. You groaned, "Shut the fuck up," you huffed, staring at him. Jisung flinched, "Is something wrong? Did I forget something?" he asked, reaching out to rub your shoulders but you slapped his hand away. Jisung's jaw dropped, "Okay. What the fuck was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You bit your tongue, “Nothing, just go away," you grumbled, clenching your hands into fists.  Jisung eyed your behaviour, "You know I can't help you if you aren't communicating right?" he said, guessing what's pissing you off. You rolled your eyes, "I don't need your help. Why is it so hard to leave me alone," you said, tearing up in frustration. Jisung sighed, "Do you want a hug? Or is that too much?" he asked, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You sniffled, "Hug, please," you said, opening your arms. Jisung held you tight, "Silly little baby. Next time just tell Appa, hm?" he chuckled, rubbing your back.

Lee Felix

Felix's eyes widened at your glare, "Is everything okay?" he asked, careful with his words. You scoffed, "What do you think?" you asked, clenching your jaw. Felix squinted at you, "I think you're pissed off and I don't know why," he said, patting your head. You glared at him harder, furrowing your eyebrows so hard that your headache. "Do you want to talk about it?" Felix asked, seeing the frustration on your face. You rolled your eyes, "I don't know, do I?" you sarcastically asked.  Felix scoffed, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek, "I don't like that tone of yours, sunbeam," he warned, crossing his arms. You looked away from him, "Not my problem," you scowled, puffing your cheeks. Felix chuckled, "Isn't it now?" he asked, thinking of a punishment that would make you crumble. You stuck your tongue at him in response. "That's it, no more desserts and that includes brownies for you," he said, holding your jaw. Your eyes widened, "That's not fair," you whined. He smirked, "It definitely is," he said, patting your cheek.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin raised an eyebrow at your glare, "What the fuck is your problem?" he asked, crossing his arms. You rolled your eyes, "None of your business," you grumbled, ignoring him. Seungmin glared back at you. "Are you sure you want to misbehave?" he asked, wondering if you were faking your attitude. You scoffed, "How is this misbehaving, Bitch?" you cursed, clenching your jaw.  Seungmin chuckled, finding your behaviour endearing, "Aww, the sweet munchkin decided to act up today, huh?" he said, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it upwards. You scowled, turning your hair to try to bite his wrist. Seungmin cooed, "Stupid little thing still thinks that they're scary," he said, gripping your hair tighter. You whimpered at the hold, tears welding in your eyes. "That's better. You should really know your place, munchkin," he chuckled, kissing your forehead. 

Yang Jeongin

"Angel, I bought some ice cream," Jeongin said, walking towards you. "I don't want it," you said, glaring at him. Jeongin froze in place, furrowing his eyebrows at your tone, "Hm, that's not how you should be talking to me now is it," he said, staring you down. You looked him directly in the eyes, "I don't care," you said, rolling your eyes. Jeongin scoffed, pushing back his hair, "Did you eat?" he asked, crossing his arms. You groaned, "No. Why the fuck are you asking?" you asked, gritting your teeth.  Jeongin chuckled, taking out a cold popsicle from the bag, "Open," he said, unwrapping the ice cream. You glared at him and pressed your lips tight. Jeongin rolled his eyes and covered your nose with his free hand. You gasped for air "Fuc-" you said, getting cut off by the cold treat filling your mouth. Jeongin moved the stick in and out forcing you to suck on it, "That wasn't so hard now was it," he cooed, seeing you suckle on the popsicle with a smile.

[brairslair]

Hii! I hope you've had a great day so far, could i request a trafalger law × fem!reader who's like super horny all the time and just begs for law's attention and his cock all the time? Do what you want with the request, I just want this to be the basic premise, also i would like a friends with benenfits relationship kinda thing, but they do like eachother but just arent together yet!

Thank you, and have a great day! Please remember to take breaks, don't rush yourself and to take care of yourself!

@kyokikia thank you so much for this request ml! so sorry for the actual insane wait 🙏🏻

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors gtfo)

a/n: idk why i struggled so much with this prompt, but i think i got something kind of coherent? definitely not my best work and a lil short, but hopefully you enjoy reading what i came up with!

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes my day mwah

“made me wait enough”

Your mouth waters as you watch Law lean back in his seat, legs spread, head thrown back in a frustrated groan. His hands drag down his face and a sliver of skin peaks out from where his shirt rides up, and you almost moan. Your fingers buzz with the desire to touch him.

It’s been torture all week. Law’s been absolutely drowning in work, to the point where he’s been sleeping through the nights in his office chair instead of his bed.

Usually, you were admittedly pretty needy; something Law liked to tease you for. Constantly running your mouth, begging for him to give you a drop of his attention, to take care of you and ease the ache that seems to always be present when he’s around. It’s absolutely agonizing to give him space, but you’ve always respected his work ethic and ambition, and would never want to get in his way.

However, he’s been making it inexplicably difficult for you to keep to yourself. He’s barely said a word to you or the rest of the crew that wasn’t a captain’s order. You’re starting to feel actual physical pain from the distance.

You’re used to spending much more time with him, having been best friends for the better part of the last four years. If anyone has the right to be frustrated with his absence, it’s you.

You miss talking to him.

You miss his company.

You miss the way he looks at you when you cling to him.

You miss the way his hands feel when he touches you.

Your legs discreetly press together where you stand, hovering at the entrance to his office, mug of hot coffee in hand.

Coffee usually helps stoke the flames when his energy starts to dwindle, so you figured you would bring him the much needed pick-me-up before you make your way to bed. Alone.

You didn’t factor in how difficult it would be to keep yourself from jumping his bones.

Seemingly unaware of your ogling, you clear your throat to make yourself known before stepping in, setting the steaming mug on his desk.

“Thought you could use it.” You smile awkwardly, trying to conceal the filthy thoughts swirling in your head while he looks up at you through half lidded eyes. You could strangle him for making this so difficult.

He glances at the mug, then back at you, muttering a soft “Thank you.”

He looks mesmerizing when he’s tired. Hazy, far off, and soft around the edges. Your chest is aching and your throat burns with hidden desires clawing their way up your throat.

“Is there anything else you need, Captain? I’m heading to bed.” You mutter softly, praying he’ll take the hint and decide to join you.

His eyebrows twitch but he simply shakes his head, “This should do.”

His eyes burn through to your soul.

Usually you would have caved long ago, whining and begging for him to let you touch him, to take care of you the way he knew you needed it, but you wouldn't cave this time. You needed to remind yourself that he's an important man with important duties to attend to, and you would rather suffer than hold him back.

Instead, you force out a curt “Goodnight”, turning on your heels before the dam breaks and you start babbling nonsense.

Before you can take a step towards the door, you’re halted by a gentle hand around your wrist. The touch makes you shudder, biting back a whine. You missed his hands.

“You’ve been different.” Law states quietly, though you know it’s meant to be a question.

You can’t allow yourself to look at him yet. You know you’ll cave.

“You’ve been busy.”

Law hums in understanding and disappointment, gently tugging your arm to face him. Your legs feel like jelly under his gaze.

The longer he looks at you, the more aware you are of how dry your mouth is suddenly, how your stomach feels tight with restraint, and how he’s looking at you like he can read your every thought.

Law soothes his thumb along your pulse, stopping to feel your heart race beneath his fingertip. His sharp smile twists into your gut.

It fascinates you, the patience and temperment Law expresses so easily, things you’ve never been able to harness.

With a shaky sigh, you finally let go of your tongue, unable to hold back any longer.

“Please, Law? I need you.”

His hands are on you in an instant, smoothing over your curves like butter as he pulls you to straddle his hips. The second his lips touch yours, you can’t stop yourself from pulling and twisting at his shirt, seconds away from ripping it to shreds. Needy whines flow freely as you desperately rock your hips.

Law rubs a calming hand against your back, and you can feel the corners of his lips twitch with a smile against yours.

He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, and is pleased at the lewd noise it draws from your throat.

“There she is.” He grins, and you groan when he pulls away to trail down your neck. His fingers dance under your shirt, leaving goosebumps up your back as he makes work to unclasp your bra.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, melting into him like molten lava. Every touch sends your brain into overdrive, and you need to feel more.

“Please, Law, don’t tease me.” You whine, hips stuttering, struggling to keep up with your head, “I’ve been so patient. I didn’t wanna disturb your work, but I can’t help it.”

You ramble into his ear, already barely coherent and digging your nails into his shoulders to steel yourself.

You press yourself against his chest, kissing and licking at his jaw, “I’ve missed you.”

Law cradles your cheek to sweetly kiss the corner of your mouth, dotting a feather light trail across your cheek. It’s his way of saying “I missed you too. I’m sorry.”

Your hand trails down to the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, pulling your wrist to his lips before placing it back on his shoulder. You protest as tears start to dot at your lash line.

“Let me feel you. I need to feel you.” You’re begging now, trembling against him as your patience dwindles. “I need you so bad it hurts.”

Law kisses you softly, like an anchor pulling you back down to him, grounding you. He tugs at your shirt in a silent order, and you pull away only to throw it carelessly on the floor beside you, along with your bra.

His cold hands immediately trail your exposed skin, not leaving an inch untouched. You’re practically limp against him at this point, overwhelmed and sobbing into his chest.

“Just fuck me already, made me wait enough.” You plead, tugging at his hair as you whisper filth in his ear, “Need your cock, Law, so bad. Please.”

A groan rumbles in his chest at your words, twitching in his pants. His fingers press into the fat of your hips, slowing your rocking motion to a slow rumble, rolling your clothed core against the tent in his jeans at an agonizingly perfect pace. His eyes darken when you gasp and whimper, already crumbling in his hands.

“Cum for me like this and I’ll give you anything you want.”

asks are open!

[strang3lov3]

Sore Loser

Roman’s face is soaked in your wetness, he’s made a mess of himself devouring you whole. Once you’re close, he pulls away, triggering a cry of frustration from you. “Now? Forgive me yet?”

“No,” you seethe.

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, smut, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, nipple sucking + titty play, waluroman roy, uhhhhh idk. The usual. You know what you’re here for. A/N - just needed to get this out of my system. did i promise jack delroy freak nasty period sex, yes. but i just have a lot of stepdaddy thots and it's a curse, really. you understand. Thank you @endlessthxxghts for editing!!

Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist

A box of half-eaten pizza and breadsticks sits on the ottoman that is pushed out of the way, and you’re on the couch, not allowing yourself to sit comfortably as Roman uses his Nintendo Switch Joy-Con to adjust the aim of the digital bowling ball he’s about to roll. Roman, of course, insisted on being player one, not that his choice gave him the upper hand in the game at all. He’s at a pathetic score of 83 right now. You’re at 237. 

Roman launches his ball, not hoping for any score in particular. It’s the last round anyway. Aaaaand…right into the gutter. 

“This is such fucking bullshit,” Roman whines, tossing his red Joy-Con onto the couch before taking his seat next to you. “I know it was before your time, but bowling on the Wii was much better than whatever this shit is.”

“You’re just pissed off that I’m winning,” you retort. “And I was around for the Wii, asshole. I used to make you play Mario Kart with me.”

“Then you’d know how much better it was,” he says. “This shit? This is garbage. Why are there obstacles, what even is that?”

You roll your eyes and grab your own teal Joy-Con, then stand up to play your last turn. After lining up your ball, you’re in the process of letting it go when Roman leans forward and squeezes your ass, startling you and in the process, fucking up your roll. “Dickhead,” you huff. You play your second turn and earn yourself a spare anyway, winning the game. 

Roman watches you spin around with a big, stupid grin on your face. You lift his hand and force him to hold it there so you can high-five him. “Ow,” he complains, with no real hurt in his voice as he squeezes your hand, holding you there. “Be gentle with me. I’m a very fragile man, kid, you know this.” 

“Oh, I know it.” 

Roman rolls his eyes. Walked right into that one. “Watch it,” he warns, dropping your hand. He flutters his fingers in the absence of your touch, missing the weight of your hand in his palm. “New game. I’m sick of Switch Bowling.” 

“Only ‘cause you lost.” 

“You know, they say you’re either good at bowling or you’re good in bed. So really, if we think about it, who’s the real loser here, huh?”

Roman’s taunt earns him a shy smile tugging at your lips as you avoid meeting his gaze. He stands up and pats your cheek gently, feeling the heat of the blood rushing through your skin. “I like that Mario Kart idea. Haven’t played that one in a while,” he tells you, making his way to the entertainment center where you keep all of the Switch games. He kneels on the floor and pulls out Mario Kart from a glass cabinet, opens the game case and puts the little card into the console, running a hand through his sleek hair as the game boots up. Roman takes his place on the couch, and you slide off of it and sit between his legs on the floor, resting the side of your face against his knee. 

Roman’s player one again, of course. The cheerful music plays as Roman picks a course. He carefully browses through each one, but settles on Coconut Mall anyway because he knows it’s your favorite. And when it’s time to choose your character, Roman snags Princess Peach, the character he knows is yours. 

“Hey, give her back. Peach is mine.”

“No, I uh- I don’t think so. Pretty sure Peach has always been mine.” 

“That’s not true, Roman, you’re always Y-” you turn around and look up to see Roman snickering and smiling down at you. “Fuck it. I’ll be Yoshi, then.” You move the joystick on your controller and choose Yoshi as your character.

“Oh, like hell you’ll be Yoshi.” Roman reaches down and attempts to pry your Joy-Con from your hands, but fails. “Fuck you. Give him back or I’ll play as Wario and make everything worse for us both.”

“Heh,” you laugh. “Waluromey.” 

Roman rolls his eyes, dramatically shaking his head. “Cute. Whatever, I guess I’m Peach,” he mumbles, moving to the screen where you design your vehicle. “She suits me, don’t you think? Because I do have the perfect peach. And eggplant. And cherries.” 

His words get a rise out of you, just as he intended. You tell him how much you hate him and all the stupid shit he says and yet, your smile betrays you. Your cheeks and ears warm as your mind drifts to all those euphemistic parts of him. “Start the fucking game, Roman.” 

And so he does. Roman’s unfamiliar with the controls of Mario Kart on the Nintendo Switch, so he has trouble taking off. You race right to first place, lapping him in no time. 

Fucking Joy-Con. Too small for the hands of an adult. Roman’s brow is pinched in concentration, and he’s trying his best to ignore your giggles and the way you brag and taunt him, calling him technologically inept and cracking jokes at his middle-aged-ness. Fuck you. You think you’re hilarious when you finish your third lap and Roman’s still on his second, getting lost in the split screen. He spent a good three minutes focusing on Yoshi rather than Peach.

“They say if you’re bad at Mario Kart, you’re also bad in bed, you know. And you’re in twelfth place.” 

Roman kicks you in the thigh, knocking you off balance a bit. “Fuck off.” 

Your fingers crawl under the fabric of his pants and you curl your hand around his leg, waiting patiently for him to finish the race. Finally, he does. “Wow, Roman. That was awful, even for you. I didn’t even have to blue shell you for you to fuck up that bad.” 

Roman laughs mockingly. “Shut up and pick another course. We’re playing again.” 

You pick a waterpark course, one you’re less familiar with. You turn around again to look at Roman, who seems aggravated. His competitive streak. You point to his A button on his Joy-Con, “Press this at like, two, when the game is counting down. You’ll take off quicker.” 

“Obviously,” he mumbles. “Did you just figure that one out?” 

Roman uses your tip when the game starts again, and he’s doing better than he was before, until you hit him with a squid. And then one of those lightning bolts. And a banana peel, and a blue shell. Once again, you’ve lapped him before he’s even completed his first. And Roman can’t seem to hit one of those magic, rainbowy question mark boxes that you’ve been hitting in spades, giving you all sorts of overpowered one-ups on him. 

So Roman decides he’ll utilize his own power-up. 

“I could beat you playing one handed,” he says. 

“What, so you can jerk yourself off with the other?” 

“Close. Do you care if I try?”

You nod, barely paying attention to him. Roman holds his controller in one hand, leans over you, and with his free hand reaches into your henley pajama top, cupping one of your breasts.With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches your nipple gently, twisting it between the two digits. You gasp in response to his touch, biting down on a moan. “Rome…”

“You said I could try,” he replies, semi-focused on you, more focused on Mario Kart. 

“But this - ah - you’re ch-”

“Cheating?”

“Yeah,” you moan. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

You drop your controller and your head tilts back into Roman’s lap, resting against his thick bulge. With your eyes closed, you relish in the feeling of Roman teasing you, now paying attention to your other breast. He squeezes it firmly, then circles your areola with his fingertip. It pebbles under his touch.  

Roman’s playing with one of your breasts, and you reach for the other. You moan and gasp loudly, “Shhh,” Roman hushes your noises. He gropes your breasts for a few moments longer, then takes his hand away to focus entirely on the game in front of him. He’s been playing it steadily this whole time, now having worked his way up to fifth place. Roman tsks. “Fuck, look at that. You’re in twelfth place. Oof.” 

“Roman, you-” you interrupt yourself to groan in irritation, then straighten out your shirt and pick your controller up to race through the course. “...fucking dick.”

 Roman laughs. He’s managed to collect blue shells and banana peels and even worse, he’s managed to learn to use them. And now, he’s worked his way up to first place while you’re still stuck at last. 

The game ends. He wins, of course. “Wow, kid. That was awful, even for you,” Roman mocks, rubbing it in. You turn around to glare at him. “What?”

“That wasn’t cool.” 

“I thought it was cool.”

“It was bullshit,” you complain. “You’re bullshit.” 

Roman exaggerates a pout and does little to hide his smirk.  “So upset when you don’t get your way,” he murmurs through his smile. 

“Fuck off. I’m pissed off at you now.” 

“Yeah,” Roman says, sliding off the couch to meet you on the floor. “You tell me, sweetheart. Really let me have it. Tell me how fucking pissed you are.” 

“I am! It was supposed to be a fun game and you just had to behave like a fuck- oh,” you moan, because Roman’s lifted up your shirt and is now toying with your nipples again. He lays you on the carpeted floor, circling one of your nipples with his tongue as he pinches the other. 

“You were saying?”

“You…”

“Sore loser,” Roman mumbles, now sucking on the sensitive bud. He kisses the surrounding flesh, kisses his way across your chest to repeat the action. And you’ve gone silent. Not really, as you’re still moaning and whining his name, but you’re out of any words beside Roman. 

He kisses down your torso and pulls the drawstring of your pajama bottoms, then slides your pants down your legs and kisses over your mound, pushing your knees toward your chest. Roman looks down at your body, all soft as you’re folded in half for him, pussy glistening with creamy ribbons of your arousal. “You’re fucking soaked,” he says, his breath hot against your core. “So sensitive. You don’t take much at all.” Roman wastes no time in eating you, licking you from bottom to top, eliciting a loud cry of his name. “Listen to that moan. Holy shit,” he laughs. 

Roman traces your folds with the tip of his tongue, then circles it around your clit. “Do you forgive me?”

“No,” you breathe. 

“Hmm.” Roman sucks on your clit, causing you to writhe and squirm beneath him. “How about now?”

“No.”

He pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling them rhythmically as he licks you. You arch into him, hands tangling in his hair. He loves when you do that. 

Roman’s face is soaked in your wetness, he’s made a mess of himself devouring you whole. Once you’re close, he pulls away, triggering a cry of frustration from you. “Now? Forgive me yet?”

“No,” you seethe. 

Roman only smirks. He kneels above you, pulls off his shirt and shucks his own pajama pants down his legs, where his cock slaps against his stomach. He strokes it once, twice, then lines it up with your entrance and slides inside you. “Now?”

“Mmm, not q- not quite,” you hum as he bottoms out, instantly building a pace. You wrap your legs around his torso and rock your hips into each of his thrusts.

“Just give it a minute. You’ll get there.”

Roman kisses you, swallowing your moans. You hold his bare shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He braces himself on his forearm as he rolls his hips into you, and wriggles his hand in between your bodies. While rubbing your clit in circles, Roman fucks you perfectly, deeply and at a swift pace. 

Your moans become frantic, and Roman feels your heat pulsing around him. “You close?” he pants.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Roman nods back, his movements never faltering. In quick time, your orgasm courses through you. You come hard on Roman’s cock, your pulsing walls coaxing along his own release. He comes inside you with moans of his own, whispering your name as his thrusts slow to a still. 

With Roman still inside you, you and he catch your breath together. “There. Now do you forgive me? Did I make it all better?”

“No,” you tell him. “I still hate you.” 

Roman rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible,” he tells you. He removes himself from you with a soft groan, quickly cleans you both up, and queues up another game of Mario Kart. This time, he plays fair. 

-

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[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Based on all the whb kings dick size Levi is the smallest (he's 18cm which is still pretty big compared to human men but still smaller than the other kings)

so I was wondering if you could do a fic where MC teases him about it, like compares him to the other kings (you know really get his jealousy going) but he kinda likes it but acts like he doesn't and proves to MC that size doesn't matter *wink wink 😉 *

WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE how MUCH I LOVE THIS!!! Why is my new think cucking and teasing/torturing Leviathan??! (I mean he was the first card I got?)

Ok so like there’s a really funny quote that came to mind that I need to use for this but wanna share first!

So there’s SO MUCH POTENTIAL HERE!! Like he 100% doesn’t know he’s big to humans, so it’s a jab at his pride with every remark on his size bc the other kings 100% made fun of him of his ‘tiny’ cock.

(So for those who live where I do, 18cms is 7.087 inches…he’s 7 inches but 100% would make you state the exact size saying 7 inches is a ‘underestimation’)

And bc he’s so self conscious? When you were staring surprised at his size, he took it as he was ‘too small’ for you. He’d throw a fit…

(Idk when I toook this image but he’s so cute to me???)

-

Cw: slight cucking, lots of teasing, technically polycule, SDH

You couldn’t help it, Levithan was so easy to get worked up, he threw a tantrum when he realized you didn’t lose your virginity with him (despite him KNOWING you’ve needed devil energy…), and after being with Satan AND Mammon, he knows he can’t compare!

But here you were, chatting with him like you were gossiping with Paimon, while Levithan is sat in front of you, naked from the waste down, he was trying to tone out insulting remarks about his size.

“Seriously, what am I supposed to with this? After getting some prime meat from Mammon how am I supposed to use this? At least Satan is big enough to get half way in…” You say laughing a bit. It was so stupid, but Leviathan was fuming.

“Q-quit yapping, Decedent of Solomon! I’m plenty big-“ He squeals as you roughly grab his cock, squeezing it with your fingers wrapped around it, you keep squeezing until your finger touched. It was a stretch but Levithan look mortified.

“Pfft! The tiny human can wrap one hand around your cock!” You force out a laugh, but you know he can’t tell the difference. He doesn’t know your fingers are barely touching…

“No!N-no! I-it’s because I-I’m not fully aroused!” He blurts out. You can almost feel him scrambling to figure out what to say. He clears his throat as if that’s why he was stuttering. “I’m not at full mass, that’s why. It gets bigger…”

You can hear him trail off as if realizing he can’t just lie that it’ll get bigger…when he’s already dripping pre, it’s throbbing in your painful grip. You stifle your laugh.

“I’m sure it does…do you know how big Lucifer is? You looks like you got a clit in comparison!” You chuckle, you flash a toothy grin as he hisses in frustration. His cock tip is an angry red, almost matching his face! “So Levi let me ask…” You flash him toothy grin that makes him know your gonna say something…that will definitely wound his pride.

“How does it feel to know that out of all your friends, you have the smallest dick?”

Levithan’s eyes widen, he looks like you just slapped him, he even audible gasp! You almost worry you went to far but he whimper/shouts out. “T-then it’s a good thing I don’t have any friends!” He says as if that’s a better solution, he’s so worked up he’s shaking, his cock bouncing aggressively in your hand.

You laugh at that, you couldn’t hold it back, you could see shock on his face at your response, he blushes a deep red and whimpers. Finally release his cock, he loudly gasp at the sudden release of pressure, he’s so close….

“I-it doesn’t need to be big! I can show you…” Leviathan complains and quickly helps you remove your pants, using your undergarments as the only protection as he grinds against you. He keeps grinding against you, his ‘tiny’ cock rubbing against you like a personal massager.

You moaned teasingly, it felt great. “Ooh! You know how to rub it against things, that’s great, here, let me show how to use that thing…”

You pushed him down and grind against his cock, grinding down on it, it gave you little pleasure while he was clearly sensitive…

You can’t not keep teasing him! He’s clearly enjoying it with the way he’s leaking pre…

“I wonder if your subordinates are bigger than you…do you have the smallest dick in hell? You’re taker than Satan, shouldn’t your dick be bigger? Or at least less sensitive?” You tease, moving your underwear enough for his dick to tease your entrance. He loudly whines at the sight of your naked skin…

“It’s not sensitive. Humans just…don’t understand…” Leviathan trails off before looking away. “Humans are fickle things…demons enjoy the sentiment more than feeling…”

You can hear his constant pauses in his speech, he’s trying to come up with an excuse without admitting he’s…sensitive. You reach down and tease his cock head, earning a moan. “Shouldn’t humans be more sensitive then? But here we are, a demon trembling while a human grinds on his dick…what are you going to do if I tell you it’s too tiny for me to use?”

Leviathan looks like you just kicked him, he glares at you. He angles his hips, then the next slide back you feel his cock slip into you, granted your ready for it, but once sheathed into you, he seems to realize the situation. He can’t move under you, now you were just sitting in his dick…squeezing it…and he can’t do anything!

Leviathan growls. “Do something already! It’s plenty big enough for a tiny human like you! I-I can easily please any demon, now let me move…” He starts to groan and loudly complains. Out of mercy you lift your hips only enough to let him thrust into you.

As much as Leviathan wants to go fast, the angle isn’t exactly easy for him to thrust into you, he tries to voice something to you but it dies in his throat and he stops thrusting into you. He whimpers, a deep blush across his face.

“What’s wrong? Can’t even last as long as the other Kings?”

Leviathan hisses in complaint and lowers his gaze. “I don’t…know.Its…”

He whimpers and begins squirming under you, you feel him throbbing inside you…

He can take some more teasing.

-

[hotshotsxyz]

i might be a little stupid (but it's okay, you are too)

(buddie) (1.2k words) i have nothing to say for myself idk

The way Maddie says it, it kind of sounds like she thinks it should be obvious. It’s not obvious. It’s not even true, actually, because if it’s true then Eddie has no idea what to do with it. And he can’t—Buck is the stability in his life. He’s the anchor, the foundation, the crossbeam that keeps the roof from collapsing in the wind. So it’s not true. He says as much to Maddie.

“You’re both—” Maddie cuts herself off with a frustrated noise. “I should have listened to Howie. You’re both impossible.”

Eddie shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, he’s not.”

Maddie sighs. “He is. He really, really is. And you—never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face.

And yeah, she shouldn’t have. Not because Eddie’s upset, but because it’s not true. Buck absolutely is not in love with him. He’d know. So it’s fine.

It’s fine until it isn’t, because a day later Buck is grinning at him like he hung the moon, and it’s so obvious that Eddie has no idea how he ever missed it. And he still doesn’t know what to do with it. But Maddie was right. Buck’s in love with him.

.

“Maddie, can you stop?”  Buck asks, nearly sloshing the wine out of his glass as he gestures. “It was funny, the first couple of times, but—”

“I wasn’t joking!” Maddie interrupts him. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why are you like this?”

“Me!” Buck exclaims. “You’re the one insinuating things.”

Maddie blinks at him. “Buck. I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you. He’s in love with you.”

Buck throws his head back dramatically, knocking it into the cabinets. Ow. “Did Chimney put you up to this? Is this his idea of a prank, because—”

Maddie drops her head to the counter, burying her face in her arms. “No,” she says, muffled by the fabric of her sweater.

Buck rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says. Eddie isn’t in love with him, obviously. He’d know. So it’s fine.

.

Buck keeps looking at him. And that’s not abnormal, necessarily, but now that Eddie’s paying attention, he’s starting to notice it happens a lot. Buck, catching his eye when he walks into the room. Buck, glancing at him before he does anything at a scene. Buck, making eye contact any time he finds something funny. He’s just—always looking.

And it’s not like Eddie isn’t looking back. He is, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have noticed, but it’s different. Especially right now, because Buck’s very clearly watching him over the top of his book, but every time Eddie catches him at it, he goes right back to pretending to read.

It’s infuriating and endearing in equal turns.

.

Eddie is always there, Buck’s starting to realize. He’s at his elbow on every call, in the kitchen when he’s making coffee, in the bunks when he’s trying to sleep. That last one might just be because they’re mostly stuck with the same sleep schedule on shift, but still. He’s starting to think Maddie might be right.

Which isn’t a problem, necessarily, so much as it is an idea that feels almost impossible to wrap his head around. It’s just—it’s Eddie. Buck knows Eddie better than he knows himself. It’s kind of hard to believe he missed something this huge. But—

He gets this look in his eye, sometimes, one that Buck had only ever really categorized as warmth, but that he’s now realizing is reserved exclusively for him. So, okay. Eddie might be in love with him. Maybe.

.

They’re going to have to talk about it, obviously, so Eddie drags Buck home with him after shift. Not that it’s very hard. He kind of just tilts his head toward the truck and Buck follows him.

Buck’s eyes are on him the entire drive. He’s pretty proud of the restraint he shows, waiting until the front door closes behind them to start talking.

“So—”

“I’m—”

Buck huffs an amused breath. “You first,” he says.

Right. “Maddie said something,” Eddie blurts.

“Okay?” Buck says, drawing out both syllables.

“She said that you—” Eddie swallows, mouth suddenly, inexplicably dry. “She said you’re in love with me?” It comes out as a question.

Buck’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead than Eddie thought was possible.

“And it’s fine,” Eddie says in a rush.

“She—”

“Seriously, Buck, I’m not like,” Eddie flaps his hand in place of an actual end to his sentence.

“Eddie, you—”

“No, really Buck, it’s—"

“She said you’re in love with me!” He exclaims.

Eddie’s brain short circuits, just a little bit. He hadn’t—he hadn’t actually considered that. At all. “She—what?”

“She said you’re in love with me, and honestly Eds, I think she might be right.”

“Since… when?” Eddie manages to get out.

Buck throws his arms in the air. “I don’t know, you tell me!”

“Maddie told you I’m… and you believed her?” Eddie asks.

“Not at first, but I mean,” Buck gestures vaguely.

They’re in Eddie’s house, but there’re traces of Buck everywhere. It’s his handwriting on the grocery list in the kitchen. He’s in half of the framed photos that adorn the walls. Buck’s sweatshirt is draped over the arm of the couch, and he isn’t the one who wore it last. Huh.

“So,” Buck says, looking at him expectantly, “are you?”

“Are you?” Eddie shoots back, borderline hysterical.

Buck opens his mouth and closes it. Blinks a few times. “I… am I?”

“I mean,” Eddie says, mirroring Buck’s earlier gesture.

Buck looks around and frowns. His brow furrows, and Eddie finds himself wanting to smooth it with his thumb. “Eddie,” Buck asks faintly, “are we stupid?”

It startles a laugh out of Eddie, and once he’s started, he can’t stop.

“It’s—it’s not—not funny,” Buck protests as he fails to suppress a giggle of his own.

“No,” Eddie gasps, bracing himself against Buck’s shoulder as he doubles over in laughter.

“St-stop,” Buck honest-to-god giggles. His fingers fist in Eddie’s shirt. “We have to—have to—” Whatever he was going to say, he can’t get the rest out.

Eventually, Eddie straightens enough to look Buck in the eye, and slowly catches his breath. All at once, he’s aware of how closely together they’re standing. “Buck,” he says, soft and warm and—

He can hear it in his own voice. He is. He is in love with Buck and it’s absurd, because how could he possibly have missed that? How could Maddie have known before he did?

“Eds,” Buck says. His fingers release the now-wrinkled fabric of his shirt, but his hands stay on Eddie’s waist. There’s a sparkle in Buck’s eyes that Eddie’s seen so many times, and not once before has he ever thought to examine why he’s so drawn to it.

“I think we’re a little stupid,” Eddie breathes.

.

“Told you,” Maddie says, watching Buck as he laces his fingers with Eddie’s.

Chimney snorts. “That you did,” he says. “They would’ve figured it out eventually. Probably.”

Maddie shakes her head. “I’ve never met two people who were so stubbornly opposed to their own happiness.”

“Eh,” Chimney says, “I think they were happy. They’re just happier now.”

Maddie laughs lightly and lets her head fall to Chimney’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she says. “They are.”

[kenmaswoman]

jjk men when you ask them to braid your hair

pairing : jjk characters x gn reader (only mentions of longer hair)

warnings : none, you can clearly tell who i’m most down bad for

YUJI - would look at you bright eyed “tadam! i’m done how’d you like it?” he asked beaming at you. you didn’t even need to look in the mirror because you coukd feel the knot he created and could already picture the mess “yuji….thank you” you reply sighing “listen i know it looks like shit but you’re pretty enough to distract people from your hair so i don’t think it’s THAT bad” he says. of course he’d find the way to compliment you.

MEGUMI - “can you pleeeeeaaaaaaase braid my hair pleeeeeasseeeeee” you’ve been asking your boyfriend to braid your hair for the past 20? minutes. you were not going to give up “no you’re tender headed and will only complain. plus i can’t braid for shit” he replies getting gradually annoyed at your persistence “but i pulled up a youtube tutorial and i promise to not complain” and with perseverance and nagging you did get your braid and it looked flawless

GETO - “please braid my hair” you ask. “nah, i can tie it if you want tho… or try at least idk” he replies, you were a but flabbergasted “what… why would you not braid my hair” you genuinely did not expect a no from him, he has long hair there’s no way he never tried braiding it so why would he say no?? “i can’t braid like that i’m sorry” he replies smiling at you “i can look up a tutorial” you say “nah, ‘m too lazy, i’ll let you braid my hair though if you want to”. and just like that the roles were reversed and you found yourself sitting on your couch manspreading with suguru sat down on the floor in between your legs hand around your calf pressing feathery kisses to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel while you play with his hair

GOJO - you didn’t even need to ask him, he asked you. when he was done he had this very suspicious smile on his face so you were expecting horrendous braids “wait…. you ate a little with this” “RIGHT?? i did so good” and he truly did… a little too good even… got you wondering which bitch’s hair he braided in the past… maybe you were even getting a little mad “suguru. suguru taught me how to braid” he said putting his hands up in defense “what?” you replied “i know you too well i see you coming. i just know you were thinking about how i was maybe cheating on you because i know how to braid” “i wasn’t” you were. but he didn’t have to know that “i know you were don’t lie” he replies laughing “did the fucking six eyes give you mind reading abilities too?” you retort “i can only read your mind so well because i love you very much” he says chuckling going in to hug you from behind as he presses a kiss to your head (making sure to catch the stray fist you were throwing at him)

SUKUNA - asking him was a bad idea. normally you would’ve never asked him but you were a bit tipsy and he seemed to be in a good mood. he was in a good mood. was. “this fucking shit is pissing me off why is your hair like that” if his words weren’t enough, you could 100% feel his frustration through the way he tugged at your hair. but you were silent. you knew better than to complain when YOU asked HIM a favor. and you started regretting not saying anything or even asking him in the first place when he cut a huge chunk of your hair.

NANAMI - dating nanami was great. didn’t even have to lift a finger by how much he treated you like a princess. so when you came up to him saying “kento, could you braid my hair for me please?” with that sweet smile of yours he happily obliged. and the braid came out beautiful (though if you were to ask him he’d say that you make the braid beautiful). this braid was too perfect it was suspicious “be honest do you have a side piece and is she the one who taught you how to braid hair?” you turn to him half joking. it truly was suspicious of him to braid that well. so when he reached in his pocket and opened the youtube app to the half-viewed braiding tutorial he had been playing and shoved the phone in your face saying “youtube taught me. i wouldn’t even cheat on you if i was paid to”. you thought to yourself that yes, dating nanami was great.

[naturesapphic]

idk if you’d wanna do this or not but could you potentially write something fluffy with Billie and a gf who feels dumb all the time because she’s dyslexic and billie helps her and comforts her when she struggles?

Dyslexic

Billie eilish x dyslexic!fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Everyone who was in your life knew you were dyslexic. You had it growing up and you still have trouble with it today. You would get teased for it a lot when you were little and now since you were an adult. You never understood why people were so mean about it, it was just a learning disorder, but the people always made you feel extra dumb for it.

Here you were, sitting at your desk in the office of your shared house with your girlfriend, working on a class project. You were done writing your portion of the paper and sent it to the group chat. Billie was downstairs in the studio working on music. Almost immediately everyone responded, criticizing your work and how you wrote making your face heat up in embarrassment. One person even said that you were going to make them all fail if you don’t rewrite the whole paper.

You were confused but texted them back that you would look over it again. Going back to your paper you reread everything and you understood what they were talking about. What you wrote was jumbled and didn’t make sense at all. It didn’t fit what the whole project was about and you groaned out in frustration. You grabbed your paper and crumpled it up, throwing it behind you not knowing that it hit someone.

“Hey! Watch the tits bro.” Your girlfriend joked which usually made you laugh but all you let out was a little defeated sigh. “Sorry…” you apologized and you felt your chair spin around and you were face to face with your brown headed girlfriend. “Hey…you don’t need to apologize to me babe.” Billie reassured you and you just sat there staring off making Billie worry. “Okay what’s going on. You’ve been up here all day in the office and you look like you are about to pass out.” She said and you whimpered making her get down on her knees so she’s eye level with you.

“I just…I feel so stupid bils! My stupid brain and my learning disability.” You explained to her and how your partners were making you feel like shit. “Hey hey now. First of all, you aren’t stupid, second of all, they are shit heads who don’t know what they are talking about. Fuck them. You are the smartest and talented girl I know. Don’t let their peanut sized Brains make you think any differently do you understand?” Billie says and you nodded your head slowly. “I still have to write this stupid paper and on top of that I have to start completely over since I messed up.” You sigh and Billie gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t I read your project over and help you with your paper hm?” She suggested and you gave her a big smile. “Would you please? I don’t get it whatsoever and I feel like my head is gonna explode.” You explained and she giggles. “I know baby but how about I read it over and rewrite it to where you can understand it better how’s that?” She offered and you felt your eyes burn with tears. “Oh bils…you are the sweetest ever. What did I do to deserve you?” You say as you stand up from your chair and place a kiss on her plump lips, making her kiss you back immediately.

“Okay. Now go to bed and rest. I’ll be there to join you in a bit alright?” She softly demanded you and you nodded. You walked over to the bed and got underneath the covers as you watched Billie read over the project and write down some stuff before joining you. You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than Billie, who never made you feel stupid or slow. She loved you as you are.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! As someone who has a learning disability this was very nice to write. Anyone who has some sort of learning disability, know that no matter what anyone says to you, you are smart and capable just like everyone else and I’m proud of you :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! <3