#Quick Two Step [Olly]

[fademirrored]

top left: Olly early in Inquisition top right: Olly late in Inquisition bottom: Olly during Trespasser

[dannyriccsystem]

could you do ollie with 1 & 3 for the 1k special? tysm <33

WHO’S GONNA KISS THE BROWN-HAIRED BOYS?

1K SPECIAL - OB87

Smothering them in kisses + Soft make out session

SUMMARY: You can’t contain all your love for Ollie! You gotta let him know :)

WORD COUNT: 512

WARNINGS: FLUFF!

FEATURING: Oliver Bearman x Reader

OLLIE WAS YOUR ANCHOR. When the world around you was overwhelming— the lights too bright, the sounds too loud— he was there to be your support system. It was a harrowing day at your internship where you had been mercilessly chewed out by your boss, leaving you to seek shelter in the comfort of your boyfriend.

Showing up unannounced was no longer an issue. His parents gave you a free pass into their home, happy to welcome you with warm hugs and questions that inquired about your day. You were their very sweet son’s very sweet girlfriend, after all.

This time, you were in a visibly bad moon. Ollie was the only one home, which left him to be the only one available to help. You stepped into the threshold of his home, immediately joining him on the couch, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He finally asked, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, rubbing soft circles into the bare skin of your shoulder. You shook your head as a reply, yearning to just wallow in the comfort of your own sadness for a little longer. He chuckled, the sound fresh and warm. “Alright.”

You tilted your head to the side, kissing his jawline. Without realizing, your frown turned up into a soft smile; your lipstick had left a red stain in the shape of your mouth right on the bone. Ollie glanced at you, tilting his head with confusion.

You responded to his silent question with a silent answer: You cupped his face with both hands, pulling him down to continue peppering his pale skin in your light red kisses. His nose, his cheeks, his forehead. He giggled, reaching out to hold your waist as you continued the assault of your lips on him.

Finally, you pressed your lips to his. You meant for it to be momentary, but he caught you fast enough to pull you back in. You melted in his hands as his lips moved against yours, eyes fluttering shut.

You pulled away to whisper into his mouth, “I love you,” and when you connected again, you could feel him grinning like a fool. He wanted to be as close as possible, pulling you up onto his lap, his palms dragging along your sides. Every motion was careful, almost like both of you were afraid of being too aggressive.

“You’re so pretty,” He murmured, nipping at your bottom lip playfully. You giggled as a response. You were both ready to really get into it, but as soon as you heard the front door open, you were quick to practically fling yourself off of him.

You tried to look natural, sitting comfortably. He mirrored you, both of your eyes trained to the TV. You peeked at him, and then snorted into the palm of your hand.

“Oh, looks like you two had fun,” His mother teased as she poked her head into the living room. Your cheeks were unusually warm, and Ollie’s ears were bright red.

Maybe you forgot about the lipstick.

[cheftsunoda]

healing hands — pg10 + kika

smau + blurbs

pierre gasly x !surgeon norris reader x kika gomes

lando norris x !surgeon sister reader

An emergency brings Kika and Pierre face-to-face with the perks of knowing a skilled surgeon—but what starts as a crisis might just lead to something more, like finding the perfect girl they never saw coming.

fc : olivia white

—

doctoryn

united kingdom 📍

liked by lando, flonorris1, lilyzneimer & 1,589,787 others.

doctoryn : quick trip back home before im back on call and lan starts a triple header 🥴

—

flonorris1 : missed you so much! was so fun to go out riding with you again❤️

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : missed you even more my flobug🫶🏻

lando : what about lando?? did nobody miss lando?

doctoryn : not with that attitude sir

liked by flonorris1, ciscanorris1 and lando

username00 : oh the norris family is so special to me

lilyzneimer : so pretty yn! happy you got some time away💘

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : love you my lils 💋

carlossainz55 : about to pretend I need another emergency surgery to make you come back home

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : sadly 30 year olds with ruptured appendix are not my specialty but i will be home today, los!

liked by carlossainz55

lando : starting to feel like I’m not your favorite norris anymore

charles_leclerc : your sister is monaco’s best pediatric surgeon— you have been replaced

liked by doctoryn, carlossainz55 and lando

lando : understandable. she is pretty badass 😎

liked by doctoryn

alexandrasaintmleux : so beautiful mon ange😍

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : that’s all you❤️

olliebearman : yn!! we need you

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : what’s up ollie? kimi need stitches again?

liked by olliebearman and isackhadjar

kimi.antonelli : …no

isackhadjar : yes

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : oh sweet little kimi. text me a picture

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and isackhadjar

kimi.antonelli : thank you yn😁

—

Coming back to the hospital after sometime away is always hard. I’m convinced that I will never be ready to return- especially to being on call. Ollie had just brought Kimi in after the picture determined he would definitely need stitches. As a surgeon am I overqualified for just stitches? Absolutely. Did I do them anyway? Of course I did.

“You are all good, my dear.” I said and set down my needle and gently tapped Kimi’s shoulder.

“Thank you so much, YN. Really.” He said and pulled me into a side hug.

“Of course. Please be more careful. I’ll make ollie get you one of those backpack leash things if we have to.” I said with a smile making both of them chuckle.

“Thank you YN, see you at the race this weekend?” Ollie said as he stood and gave me a hug.

“Absolutely. See you both there.” I said with a smile.

The two left and I wandered back down to my office, where I had been— eating snacks and catching up on charts. Being on call was generally pretty chill until an odd case comes through or some sort of trauma situation.

Just as I was settling back into the rhythm of mindless charting and half-stale pretzels, the calm was shattered by a flurry of urgent footsteps and raised voices echoing from down the hall.

“I need a doctor—please!” someone called out.

I stood, instinct kicking in before the words fully registered, and stepped out of my office just as a nurse rushed past.

“Trauma coming in—possible ruptured appendix,” she said over her shoulder. “Kid’s in rough shape.”

I nodded and turned to follow her, but just as I grabbed my pager off the desk, it buzzed.

Surgical consult needed – suspected appendicitis, Trauma 2.

I moved quickly toward the room, already slipping into the headspace I’d been trying to avoid all day. But the second I stepped through the trauma bay doors, I froze for just a moment.

Pierre Gasly was pacing the room, running a hand through his hair, panic written all over his face. Kika stood at the bedside, gripping her little sister’s hand. The kid was pale, sweating, and curled in on herself, clearly in pain. Neither of them noticed me enter.

“I thought Y/N would be back by now,” Kika said quietly, voice cracking. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“She said she wouldn’t be back for another week,” Pierre murmured, trying to stay calm. “I don’t know who’s on tonight…”

“Hi,” I said, stepping in fully. “Guess who came back early.”

They both turned.

“Y/N?” Kika gasped, eyes wide.

Pierre looked just as stunned. “You’re here? You’re the surgeon on call?”

I nodded, already reaching for the chart. “And very ready to help your sister. I’ll take great care of her, I promise.”

Kika let out a breath that sounded halfway between a sob and a laugh, rushing to hug me. “Oh my god, thank you. I was so scared.”

Pierre looked visibly relieved, placing a hand on my shoulder with a shaky smile. “I’ve never been happier to see someone in scrubs.”

I offered a reassuring grin. “Let’s get her prepped for surgery. She’s in good hands.”

And just like that, whatever hesitation I’d had about being back vanished. Because sometimes, coming home means being exactly where you’re needed.

—

The surgery went smoothly—textbook, even. The appendix had been close to bursting, but we got to it in time. I stayed with her through post-op until she was stable, then finally peeled off my gloves and scrub cap, exhaustion settling in.

But I wasn’t done yet. I knew two people pacing the waiting area like caged animals, and they deserved answers.

I found them exactly where I expected—Kika sitting rigidly on one of the stiff hospital chairs, wringing her hands. Pierre was standing, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes flicking toward every door that opened. The second they saw me, they both jumped to their feet.

Kika was the first to speak. “Is she okay?”

I smiled, soft and tired but genuine. “She’s okay. Surgery was successful. We removed the appendix before it ruptured. She is in recovery now, sleeping off the anesthesia. You can see her soon.”

Kika’s breath left her in a rush as she pulled me into a hug—tight, grateful, and shaky. “Thank you. Seriously, Y/N. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I murmured, hugging her back. “She is family to you, which makes her important to me, too.”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes, and sat down like her legs had finally given out. “I’m never sleeping again.”

Pierre stepped closer, his voice quieter. “You really saved her.”

I nodded, my eyes meeting his. “Yeah. She’s going to be just fine.”

Kika let out a breath and pulled me into another hug. “I think I love you,” she mumbled into my shoulder, making me laugh.

Pierre stood behind her, looking just as relieved. “No, seriously, I might be in love with you too.”

I raised a brow at him over Kika’s shoulder. “Both of you? That’s a lot of pressure.”

Kika pulled back with a dramatic sigh, placing a hand on her chest. “You saved my sister, Y/N. I owe you my heart, my future, and possibly my apartment.”

Pierre stepped in with a smirk. “We could split the debt. I’ll give her my heart, and you can keep the apartment.”

I shook my head, laughing. “You’re both impossible.”

“And yet,” Pierre said, his voice softening just a bit as his eyes met mine, “you’re still here. Still saving lives. Still stealing hearts.”

Kika nudged him. “Ugh, that was smooth. I was gonna say that.”

I looked between them, teasing. “Are you two trying to charm your way into a date or into my will?”

Pierre grinned. “Whichever one gets us dinner with you first.”

“I’ll take both,” Kika added, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I rolled my eyes playfully, but I couldn’t help the warmth blooming in my chest. “Alright, alright. Let me finish my shift. We’ll revisit this threesome of affection later.”

Kika gasped. “Oh, she likes us.”

Pierre leaned in, just close enough to be dangerous. “You have no idea.”

—

kikagomes

princess grace hospital 📍

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly, lando & 1,577,813 others.

kikagomes : 3 weeks ago, my baby sister was the sickest ive ever seen her. naturally, i panicked but little did i know the best doctor on the planet would be there to fix everything. so much love to yn for not only saving my sister but keeping me calm all the same breath. today, sis got to have lunch with the amazing doc who saved her and who I love dearly 🫶🏻 thank you @/doctoryn !!

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doctoryn : omg you’re gonna make me cry!! she is such a little rockstar. lunch dates for life💕

liked by kikagomes

pierregasly : yn is a superhero in scrubs! lunch on me next time ladies?

liked by kikagomes and doctoryn

doctoryn : can’t wait;)

charles_leclerc : so we’re all just in love with yn now??

liked by kikagomes and pierregasly

kikagomes : she saved a life. you would be in love too

lando : yes yes my sister is unreal but where was this energy when I fell off my bike at age 10?? I got a pack of peas and sarcasm.

liked by doctoryn and kikagomes

doctoryn: told you not to try and ride your bike down that hill. that was natural consequence sir.

F1 : our fave doc that doesn’t actually work for us

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : I’ve patched up enough of your drivers just hire me atp

kimi.antonelli : true

carlossainz55 : can confirm

charles_leclerc : the scar on my knee is proof

—

doctoryn

liked by oscarpiastri, kikagomes, charles_leclerc & 2,299,007 others.

doctoryn : love this little life (and my little australian friend @/oscarpiastri for bringing me a lifetime supply of tim tams) (and kika and simba😍)

—

oscarpiastri : anything for my favorite norris

liked by doctoryn

lando : now wtf is this MY OWN TEAMMATE. what happened to landoscar???

liked by doctoryn

oscarpiastri : I said what I said. (yn is cooler im sorry)

liked by lando and doctoryn

carlossainz55 : aw yn finally got charles’ drawing

liked by doctoryn

charles_leclerc : that is not mine. mine is hung up in her office 😁

liked by doctoryn

kikagomes : we love you more ❤️ miss you beautiful

liked by doctoryn

pierregasly : dinner tonight ladies?

liked by doctoryn and kikagomes

doctoryn : no way I’d rather spend my night

liked by pierregasly and kikagomes

username00 : what is happening here??

username15 : throuplleeee

ciscanorris1 : my sister is the best and prettiest doctor on the planet 😍😍

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : love you to the moon and back

—

The restaurant was quiet, tucked away along the coast, all candlelight and soft music and the kind of warm, golden glow that made everything feel like a movie. I should’ve known something was up the moment I saw Kika in a silk dress and Pierre not in a hoodie for once.

“This is… fancy,” I said, letting Pierre pull out my chair like it wasn’t some kind of coordinated move.

Pierre smirked. “Only the best for our favorite doctor.”

Kika leaned in with a grin. “And before you ask—no, no one here needs stitches or surgical consults.”

I laughed, settling in as the waiter poured wine. We talked, we ate, we flirted—Kika feeding me bites of her pasta, Pierre offering to trade desserts and then not actually giving me the last bite. It was comfortable in the most dangerous way—too easy, too warm, too good.

When the plates were cleared and the candles burned a little lower, Kika glanced at Pierre, then turned to me, suddenly more serious.

“Can we say something without it getting weird?” she asked, fingers brushing against mine across the table.

I raised an eyebrow, a little suspicious. “You’re already being weird. Go on.”

Pierre chuckled, resting his elbow on the table and leaning in. “We’ve been thinking about you. About us. About how this isn’t just a casual little flirt we picked up during a medical emergency.”

Kika nodded. “You’ve become someone really important to us. Not just for what you did that night—though, yeah, saving my sister kinda made you an automatic hero—but because of how you are. How you show up. How you make everything feel less scary.”

Pierre reached across and took my other hand. “So, we were wondering… Would you want to try something with us? Something real?”

Kika’s voice softened. “We’re asking if you’d be our girlfriend. Both of ours.”

My heart stuttered. The room, already soft and golden, suddenly felt like it narrowed to just the three of us. Pierre’s eyes were so steady. Kika’s smile was pure hope. And God, I wanted this.

“I didn’t see this coming,” I said quietly. “But… I want it too.”

Pierre let out a breath, that rare, unguarded kind of smile taking over his face. Kika squealed and immediately stood to lean across the table and kiss my cheek.

—

kikagomes

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly, charles_leclerc & 1,245,908 others.

kikagomes : life with my favorite people lately

tagged : pierregasly and doctoryn

—

lando : kika idc about you but pierre why are your mitts all on my sister

liked by pierregasly, kikagomes and doctoryn

pierregasly : just a friendly hug bud 😏

lando : GROSS

doctoryn : my cutie pies

liked by kikagomes and pierregasly

username00 : what does this all mean

username4 : I’m so confused

username15 : so is yn just a professional third wheel

alexandrasaintmleux : my faves

liked by kikagomes, pierregasly and doctoryn

charles_leclerc : tell yn to check her texts. i threw something at arthur and he didn’t move in time

liked by doctoryn

doctoryn : guys 🤦🏻‍♀️

doctoryn : arthur come see me rn

arthur_leclerc : coming yn🏃🏼‍♂️

—

doctoryn added to her story!

{caption 1 : biceps🥴} {caption 2 : oml my heart}

seen by lando, kikagomes, alexandrasaintmleux and 4,378,990 others.

lando : if you do not get your ass to the mclaren garage and slap on some orange — i am going to throw a toddler fit

doctoryn : I’ll be down soon you big baby

kikagomes : god i love you both sm

doctoryn : love you more

—

kikagomes added to her story!

{caption 1 : cutie} {caption 2 : got our girl today}

seen by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, doctoryn & 1,234,897 others.

pierregasly : so happy to have both my girls in the garage supporting me ;)

kikagomes : go make us proud love

charles_leclerc : so weird seeing yn in alpine 😁

kikagomes : yeah lando is losing it

doctoryn : love you soooooooo much my keeks

—

pierregasly

liked by doctoryn, kikagomes, charles_leclerc & 2,298,897 others.

pierregasly : mes amours

—

doctoryn : omg omg i love you both so much

liked by pierregasly and kikagomes

kikagomes : you both are the best thing to ever happen to me

liked by pierregasly and doctoryn

charles_leclerc : carlos you owe me 500 bucks

carlossainz55 : not happening mi amigo— you already knew. THAT IS CHEATING

charles_leclerc : to be fair I just found out like last week

alpinef1team : our faves 🩷💙

lando : this is literally my sister. i hope you both stub your toes tonight

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly and kikagomes

georgerussell63 : oh the Netflix ppl will love this

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly and kikagomes

lilymhe : is Lando already face down in the carpet throwing a temper tantrum??

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly and kikagomes

carlossainz55 : can confirm he is

—

kikagomes

liked by doctoryn, pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux & 1,327,289 others.

kikagomes : two of the hottest ppl on the planet are mine!! 💋💋

—

lando : has no one ever listened to the “don’t date my sister” speech??

liked by kikagomes, pierregasly & doctoryn

kikagomes : didn’t know that applied to me

lando : tbh I didn’t think it did either

lando : but PIERRE

pierregasly : sorry your sister is so hot and incredibly smart and so irresistible

lando : GROSSSSS BARF

doctoryn : brb updating my emergency contact form to include both my partners and one very angry little brother

liked by pierregasly and kikagomes

lando : not angry just disappointed

pierregasly : my beautiful girllssss

liked by doctoryn and kikagomes

fernandoalo_oficial : am I old now? is this the new normal?

liked by kikagomes, pierregasly and doctoryn

doctoryn : you’ve been old but we love you anyway

—

doctoryn

liked by kikagomes, pierregasly, lando & 2,298,890 others.

doctoryn: turned off the comments because lando isn’t done throwing a fit but these two have my heart and always will❤️💋🫶🏻

—

user has turned off the comments for this post.

—

🧚🏻🪼🦚🌵🪲🐡🐢🌙

[jennwritesf1]

the way you felt in my arms | kimi antonelli

requested? : yes! ‘hey there! could you pls write one where reader is ollie’s sister and kimi and her have been sneaking around dating for like 6 months or so. and then ollie catches them.’

summary : an accidental sleepover exposes your secret relationship with kimi to your brother

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), bearman!reader, rather fluffy in the beginning, not proofread 

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you for the request! I love writing for kimi atm, so if anyone has any kimi (or ollie) requests send them in bc they are likely to get done fast lol

yes, this is reposted, I’m switching my accts around

MEXICO GP WEEKEND

When Ollie had first introduced the two of you, his little sister and his best friend, he made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to happen between you two. You and Kimi had clicked instantly, finding you had a lot in common, and it didn’t take long for your friendship to grow into something more. You were hesitant to get into a relationship with Kimi though, knowing how upset Ollie would be, but that didn’t last for long. Some flowers and a promise to keep it secret was all the convincing you needed.

That's how you found yourself in Mexico, standing outside of Kimi’s hotel room at 10:30pm on a Thursday, blanket and snacks in hand. You quietly, and quickly, knocked on the door, adrenaline high as you glanced at the door to the right, which was where your brothers room was. You had gotten pretty good at sneaking around in the past six months, but you were still nervous of your brother finding out every time you did.

You worries quickly melted away as the door opened and you were met with a large smile. You matched his smile, quickly making your way into his hotel room. You set your blanket and the snacks you had grabbed from the corner store on his bed, then turned towards Kimi. His hair was damp, a few curls splayed across his forehead, and he was dressed comfortably. 

“Hi,” Kimi said as he made his way to you, arms wrapping around your waist. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap around his shoulders, and you could feel him relax under your embrace. He pulled back after a moment, and it was then you could see how tired he was. Your eyes softened as you reach a hand up to run through the back of his damp curls. 

“You look tired, do you want to reschedule?” you asked, to which Kimi quickly shook his head to. You gave him a small smile, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty because you knew he had had a busy day with media duties and team meetings, and he had to be at the paddock early tomorrow. “Are you sure? It's okay,” you added.

“No, no,” He said, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, before stepping around you to the bed, though his hand found yours and he pulled you with him. “And, I have your favorite movie,” he added, turning to you with a wide smile as he turned his laptop towards you to show it already loaded up on the screen.

Your heart swelled at the small action, seeing your favorite movie, which you knew Kimi was not a fan of. “You hate that movie,” you said with a laugh, following him around the side of the bed, grabbing your blanket in the process. 

He flashed you a sheepish smile, pulling you onto the bed with him. “Yeah, but you love it,” he said, his tired eyes finding yours. You both cuddled up under your fluffy blanket, his arm wrapping underneath your waist and your head leaning on his chest. He grabbed his laptop, placing it where you could both see the screen, then played the movie.

It was quiet nights like these that you cherished, nights that were becoming too far between for both of your liking. It was rare either of you went on public dates, trying to hide your still new relationship from both the media and your brother. You hadn’t originally set out to hide it from Ollie for as long as you had been, but the more Ollie noticed how close you two had gotten, the more he doubled down on not wanting you two to be anything more than friends. You did plan on telling him soon, but for the time being both you and Kimi loved that your relationship was just yours. The sneaking around, only seeing each other after dark, stealing glances from afar, kisses behind closed doors; it was exhilarating.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, you had looked up to comment on something, but saw Kimi was asleep. His features were calm and he looked so relaxed, you couldn’t help the small smile that made its way across your lips. You stayed like that, just admiring your sleeping boyfriend, for a few more minutes, before reaching down and closing the laptop, moving it to the other side of you guys. As comfortable as you were and as much as you wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t. All your stuff was back in your room, and Ollie would be looking for you in the morning. 

As carefully as you could, you tried to slide out of Kimi’s arms without waking him. You had nearly managed to when you felt his once loose grip on your waist tighten before pulling you back to your previous spot. You chuckled as you looked up, meeting his tired, still half-asleep, eyes. 

“Stay?” he asked quietly, his voice only a whisper. You smiled, but shook your head, knowing that you couldn’t. Kimi sighed, but didn’t move.

“Love, I can’t,” you said, chuckling as he huffed. “I don’t have any clothes,” you added.

“Wear mine,” Kimi said back, eyes now closed as his hand gently ran up and down your side.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Ollie would love to see me rep Mercedes,” you retorted, earning a small chuckle from Kimi. 

“He wouldn’t suspect a thing,” he joked, earning a quiet laugh from you. A short silence fell between the two of you, and for a moment you had thought Kimi had fallen back asleep. After a moment, he spoke up again. “You’re so relaxed, I can feel it. You don’t want to leave,” He said, still trying to convince you to stay.

You looked up again, seeing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and couldn’t help the smile that then tugged at yours. You laid your head back on his chest, pulling the fluffy blanket back around your body.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. You didn’t plan on staying the whole night, just until Kimi fell back asleep, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen unless he thought you were staying. 

Or at least, that was the plan. 

But the longer you waited in the dark and quiet room, cuddled up to Kimi, the more your eyelids began to droop. Every time you were sure Kimi had fallen back asleep, he’d mumble something to you or move his hand up and down your side again for a short time, letting you know he was still awake. Eventually, you just couldn’t keep you eyes open any longer, and you eventually drifted off to sleep. 

You were startled awake by a loud banging at the door, followed by a shouting voice. You picked your head up, tired eyes meeting a confused Kimi, who was patting around the bed for his phone. You looked around the still dark room, but paused when your eyes landed on the window, seeing the sky painted with shades of pink and orange. It was morning and you were still in Kimi’s hotel room.

“Kimi, we need to go!” a familiar voice shouted through his hotel door, followed by a series of loud knocks. It took you a minute before you realized the voice was your brothers.

“Shit,” you cursed, eyes wide as you turned to Kimi, who was mirroring your expression. You shoved his shoulder, trying to tell him to get up, while you gathered your blanket and jumped up from the bed. 

“What do you want me to do?” Kimi asked in a not-so-quiet whisper, texting Ollie from his phone to say he’d be out in a minute. You folded your blanket in your arms, setting it in the corner of the room, before turning back to him, shrugging your shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, grabbing your phone to see a few texts and missed calls from Ollie. “Oh, he knows,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself but Kimi had overheard you as he was trying to quickly get ready. 

“What?” Kimi asked, appearing at your side as you showed him the texts, which were a mix of ‘did you oversleep?’ and ‘where are you?’. His hand found your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe he doesn’t, you could just wait here until we leave,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you said with a nod, although you had a feeling that your brother did know. You and Kimi had both been m.i.a all morning, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. “But you have to get going,” you said, helping Kimi gather his things. You leaned up, placing a quick kiss to his lips, before shoving him towards the door. You then quickly ducked behind the wall, sitting back down on the bed out of sight. 

Kimi cracked the door open just far enough for him to be able to slide out, but was stopped by Ollie before he could. Ollie had his arms crossed, eyes moving from Kimi to try and peer into the room.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, looking back down at Kimi, who was shaking his head.

“Uh- myself?” he said as more of a question, trying again to step out of the room, but the taller brunette across from him didn’t budge.��

“Mate,” Ollie began, an unamused look on his face, “is my sister in there?”

Kimi was silent for a moment, clearly not expecting that to be one of the first questions Ollie asked, but that was all the answer he needed.

You buried you head in your hands, sighing. This was not the way you wanted your brother to find out about your relationship. You stood up, figuring that the cat was already out of the bag, and  made your way over to the door, pulling it fully open. Your eyes met Kimi’s momentarily, and your hand found his.

“Look, I can explain,” you started, looking up at Ollie, trying to read his body language, which was seemed to be displeased. He simply shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

“How long?” he asked, eyes now locked on yours.

“Um- about six months,” you mumbled after a moment, your eyes darting to the floor. You felt Kimi gently squeeze your hand, catching your attention. “I’m sorry Ollie, we were going to tell you eventually.”

“Eventually? In another six months?” Ollie asked with a slight scoff, and for a moment it seemed like he was actually upset. He paused, a sigh leaving his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t care, it’s just weird,” he said, and almost instantly a tiny weight felt like it was lifted off of your chest.

“Actually?” Kimi asked, having expected a completely different reaction to his best friend finding his little sister in his hotel room. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Ollie said, crossing his arms again. “We’ve got to get going,” he added, looking at Kimi, who quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kimi said, turning to you. “I’ll see you at the track?” He asked, seeing as you still had to stop back at your room to get dressed and ready for the day.

You nodded your head, turning to Ollie. “Be nice,” you said, giving him a small glare, as you knew Kimi was about to get a lecture from him on their way to the track. 

Kimi gently tugged on your hand, catching your attention, and placed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Woah- I do not want to see that!” Your brother exclaimed, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned around, causing both you and Kimi to chuckle.

Ollie wasn’t entirely happy about the idea of his little sister dating his best friend, but as long as you were happy, and he didn’t have to see any pda, so was he.

masterlist | requests are open

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Masterlist

★─── ⋆⋅ ★𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄★ ⋅⋆ ───★

⋆.˚ Franco Colapinto

Password Sharing?

Ollie's Edits

Plastic Surgery

Just Friends - part one, part two

Three-Hour Workout Wonders

⋆.˚ Max Verstappen

“Is it really that funny?”

Cold and Cuddles

Bi Panic

Her Family Loves Him

The Moon Above

Hugs That Feel Like Home

Her Ex Got Engaged

Retirement Temptations

⋆.˚ Sebastian Vettel

Retirement and a Failed Proposal

Celebrating Her First Win

Cynic - part one, part two, part three

“Not all men. Nah, who am I kidding? All men”

Surgery

A ring

He is Retiring

When We Are Together

Step Son

“It’s supposed to be fun turning twenty-one”

Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call

Fallingforyou

Wedding Guests

Consumerism

Platinum Blonde

Three Trains

You Are In Love

Slow Mornings and Quick Thoughts

"if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers"

In the Name of Commitment

⋆.˚ Toto Wolff

Their Daughter's First Breakup

Marriage After Divorce

Bad at Cooking

⋆.˚ Jenson Button

Question...? - part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

The Talk

Turf War

Bad at Remembering Dates

Bar Fight

The Hidden Proposal Game

[piastappies]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 BEFORE US! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. ollie bearman x webber!reader.

summary. a drunken encounter leads to a history straight out of rom–com, turning the world of a formula 2 driver upside down.

notes. reader tells ollie the plot of before sunrise. also, reader is said to be ollie’s age (kinda self-indulgent LOL) maybe part 2 of them meeting in spa? 😁

it was eleven in the evening, while you were having a good time on the streets of hungarian capital city. your actions were not exactly responsible as you were there with a friend of yours that you met online a few months ago. also, you weren’t exactly sure how you managed to strain away from your father and oscar. well, alright — there was a possibility that a train, a sweet smile and a promise to be safe were involved.

honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in that small bar, but in the larger point of view, you were happy that you let lara drag you there. you already had a few drinks in, you were going back to your booth, when you accidentally bumped into a muscular, tall guy, spilling the drink on your white dress.

“shit, i am so, so sorry.” the boy — because you could easily notice that he must’ve been similar to you in age — spoke relatively slowly, probably out of kindness as he couldn’t tell if you were fluent in english or not. some would call it offensive, but you considered it slightly endearing that the boy tried to be as considerate as possible, knowing that not everyone in the world speaks english.

his face fell to your chest for a tenth of a second, a small cough escaping his lips, before his cheeks tinted pinkish from embarrassment that he even let himself be so blatantly disrespectful towards you. what made it even worse was that the once white dress became see-through.

“shit, shit, your dress. i– here, take this.” he stuttered, swiftly taking off his grey hoodie, letting you take a glimpse of his toned stomach for half a second as his shirt rolled up.

people around you two, suddenly stopped existing and maybe the alcohol you’ve consumed that night was at fault — or maybe it was the charming aura around him, but you honestly couldn’t care less. he was the only guy that wasn’t trying to harass you or make your night less fun and definitely more stressful.

“you shouldn’t apologise, it’s all my fault. i wasn’t paying enough attention.” your voice was loud, but yet still soft enough, so only the boy you bumped into could hear you. “i’m yn, my friend lara is there in the corner booth, do you… um, maybe wanna join us? so i can get you a drink for bumping into you?”

it might’ve been a risky move — he could always say no, laugh at you and go away, thinking you were the most embarrassing person in the entire bar. or he could think that you were a pretty cute, interesting girl that he’d like to spend a july evening with. and, fortunately for you, ollie introduced himself with a quick breath of relief (that he didn’t know he was holding), said that he’d love to join you and buy you a drink, but he was there with two other guys and one of the friends’ girlfriend.

so, upon hearing that, as a responsible human being, you… suggested that they should join you as well, because you really felt like getting to know ollie a tad better. upon hearing that he wasn’t there alone, you nodded with a small smile, before suggesting that it’s not really a big deal and that maybe the four of them would like to join you and lara, who wouldn’t have anything against it since she was a social butterfly, loving bigger crowds.

two and a half hour later, you ended up walking down the cobblestone pathway, while your newfound group of friends was a few steps ahead. lara quickly got along with kimi, eliska and gabriele, so you felt less guilty that you got so occupied in the endless conversation with ollie, slowly trailing behind the group. a month or two later, you were told by eliska that she saw the way you and ollie click and made sure you could get along.

you weren’t sure where the six of you were going, budapest was a gorgeous city, but keeping your eyes on bearman was pretty much enough. he had your arm hooked around his as you slightly started to stumble from the tiny gaps in the path. a giggle escaped your mouth as he whispered a really cheesy joke, his lips inches away from your ear. then, your drunken mind thought that you should come clean with the cute boy about why you’re actually in budapest.

“i have a confession.” you started quietly, your words barely above a whisper. ollie let you continue as he simply nodded. if you weren’t tipsy from all the strawberry daiquiris you had at the bar earlier, you would notice how his body tensed slightly, almost as if he was afraid of what you were about to say.

the first thing that came to his mind was that you had a boyfriend somewhere in monaco, while he was really getting a vibe from you that maybe you were interested in getting to know him as much as he wanted to get to know you. just half a second later came the thought that you knew who he was and it was just as awful. he hasn’t been in the spotlight of motorsport for a long time yet, but he was aware of how people’s perception on things change once they realise what he does, and he really, really didn’t want it to be the case with you.

“this is not something i usually tell people on the day i meet them, but you’re so genuine and so, so nice to me.” your words were coming off as rambling, though despite the lump in his throat, the prema driver couldn’t help but think that maybe he could live with the thought of you bumping into him on purpose if he could listen to your cute rambling for a few more minutes. “and i’m really enjoying spending time with you right now, and-and i don’t want you to think that i’m like a liar or something, because i really am not.”

“hey, breathe. whatever it is, i don’t think i’m gonna perceive you as a liar.” his quiet chuckle with a nervous undertone was enough for you to calm down a bit. his hand dropped to yours, squeezing it for a little more reassurance.

“that’s what i’m really hoping for.” you whispered, looking down at your jointed hands, a ghost of smile lingering on your face. “so, there’s this sport you might’ve heard of — or not, honestly if it wasn’t for my dad, i don’t know if i would, but — gosh, i’m sorry i’m rambling again. alright… there’s, um, formula one, right? i guess you know, because it is a big thing in england, i suppose.” oliver nodded once again, a pit in his stomach growing.

“the thing is… i’m in hungary for that exact reason. there was the grand prix this weekend and i came here with my dad, because, um… he’s a manager of, um, one of the drivers. oscar? he won today, yesterday, technically.”

ollie couldn’t believe what he just heard. he was so scared that you were pretending just to boast about hanging out with formula 2 and formula 3 drivers, while you were having an inner turmoil of your own, weighing pros and cons of telling him that you were the daughter of the mark webber. he could see the nervous expression on your pretty face and his heart swelled, knowing that in those two and a half hours of constant chatter he gained so much of your trust to be told that.

for other people it might seem like it was nothing, nevertheless ollie knew how much fake people you must’ve met in your life, who liked you for your father’s achievements and not you. god, for a moment he felt like crying.

“i was there too.” he gave you a shy smile. before you were able to overthink every possible scenario with the worst possible outcome, his smile widened, his hip gently nudging yours. “i’m racing for prema in f2.” he chuckled at your surprised expression.

bearman, as he was a tad more sober than you, could easily notice the weight falling off your shoulders, once you recognised him, quickly replaced by a blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks.

“that’s why i thought i’ve seen you somewhere.” you muttered, scrunching your nose, gears in your brain working overtime. “i’m sorry, it’s— i haven’t really been up to date with formula 2. but i remember you from saudi, i wasn’t there, but my dad was really impressed. everything makes sense now, though.”

“no need to be embarrassed or anything, i’m glad neither of us recognized each other. you made me feel like a normal teenager for once.” he grinned down at you, your face matching his as he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer, but you couldn’t really complain.

you didn’t remember the moment, when your night turned into a reenactment of one of your favorite rom-coms — before sunrise. gabriele, kimi and eliska had to go back to their hotels, suspiciously at the same time, when lara’s curfew was coming. it was truly reckless for you to stay out with ollie till your train back to the place your father had rented for the four days stay in hungary. once you were alone, he made sure to keep you close to him at all times, so if an emergency occured, he’d be able to protect you.

“i feel like i’m in a movie.” your admission was soft as you slowly sat down on the grass in the park, the state of your white dress long forgotten as it’d be green once the sun was up.

“a movie you like?”

“my favorite one.” ollie smiled.

“tell me about it.” he suggested, plopping down next to you, uncorking the wine you two bought earlier in one of those 24/7 shops.

“it’s about two people that met on a train going across the europe.” you started explaining, ollie’s free arm slung across your shoulders once again, making you realize what his love language must be. “he’s american and she’s french, once they stop in vienna, he asks her to get off the train with him and walk around the town with him till he has to go to the airport, because it’s his last day in europe. she thinks it’s crazy, but she agrees and they spend the entire night together. nothing kubrick-esque happens there, all of the action happens during their dialogues. they share opinions and stuff. it’s kind of silly, but they end up in a park, too, with wine and stuff.”

“like us.” he commented, his eyes still lingering on your face as they were, while you were skimming over the plot of the movie.

“like us.” you repeated softly.

“so, what do they do in the park?” ollie asked another question, earning himself a small hum from you as you shifted closer, his thumb absentmindedly drawing shapes on your shoulder. your stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies as he asked all the right questions, made all the right moves, giving you all the right smiles.

“they kiss.” a whisper left your lips, tilting your head to get a better view of his face.

“they kiss.” it was the prema’s driver’s time to repeat the short sentence as you just nodded, noticing the way his eyes flickered to your mouth.

sweet silence embraced the two of you as bearman took his chance and leaned forward an inch or two, cautiously testing the waters. when you didn’t pull back, a smile tugged onto his face, before cupping your cheek with his free hand.

however, ollie didn’t kiss you for a moment that felt like eternity. his mouth just hoovered over yours, giving you a chance to back up, to show him that he read the signs wrong, but you didn’t. your eyes locked with his, before his lips were moving against yours in a sweet, gentle and almost tantalising manner. you couldn’t tell how long were you kissing for, but when the two of you finally pulled away, his mouth was tinted with the red shade of your lipstick, both with messed up hair and slightly swollen lips.

it was almost seven in the morning, while you were sitting at the train station with your hand clasped in ollie’s. the silence between you was truly the most comfortable thing in the world at the moment. budapest was slowly waking up in the background as you enjoyed his presence beside you.

“what do they do in the movie before they part ways?” he interrupted the silence.

“they promise to see each other in a six months time in the same place. they don’t exchange numbers or anything, though.” you recalled, wondering where was he going with this.

“and do they? meet, i mean.” he asked, already expecting the answer as you’d told him it was a trilogy.

“not in the set time. she can’t make it to vienna again, because her grandmother dies, but he does.” you nodded. “but they do meet each other again, eight years later, this time in paris.”

“good thing we’re not jesse and celine.” ollie joked, a grin tugging on your lips as you nod in agreement. “i do have your number, and we can see each other in spa on thursday, if you want to.”

“i do.” this time, you were the one to press a gentle kiss on his lips for a brief second as your train arrived. bearman just grinned back at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “i’ll see you on facetime then, and in belgium.”

ollie stayed for another five minutes after your train departed. his gaze dropping to the phone in his hand before he quickly sent you a message.

ollie: thank you for making this night amazing for me x

[annaswrites00]

We Probably Shouldn't - Kimi Antonelli

Kimi Antonelli x Rory Bearman (OC)

(3.3k)

Chapter Ten

Chapter Nine, Chapter Eight, Chapter Seven, Chapter Six, Chapter Five, Chapter Four, Chapter Three, Chapter Two, Chapter One

Summary - Kimi and Ollie’s sister start something they probably shouldn’t… warnings - suggestive content

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The house lay quiet in the early morning light, its aged walls steeped in the memories of countless seasons, echoes of laughter and tension alike folded into the grain of the wood. Rory stood at the kitchen window, watching the mist curl lazily over the rolling hills that framed the estate. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and freshly brewed coffee — simple, yet grounding.

Inside, the muted clink of china and the low murmur of voices threaded through the rooms. Kimi’s family moved with practiced grace around the kitchen — his mother humming softly as she arranged pastries on a platter, his father meticulously setting the table, each gesture precise but warm.

Rory felt a strange weight settle over her chest — a mixture of anticipation and restraint — as she stepped into the room. The morning was supposed to be calm, a quiet pause before the relentless storm of the race weekend. But beneath the surface, everything was taut with unspoken things. She knew Kimi was not only facing the pressure of his home race, but also dealing with the shared lie between the two of them.

She caught Kimi’s eye from across the room, his figure framed in the soft amber light filtering through the curtains. His expression was unreadable, as always, but the slight furrow in his brow betrayed a tension she knew too well.

Their eyes locked briefly, a silent conversation flickering in that glance — recognition, connection, a shared burden neither wanted to voice aloud.

The kitchen fell into a comfortable quiet as everyone settled around the table. Rory sat beside Kimi, her fingers curling loosely around her coffee cup. The warmth seeped into her palms, steadying her racing thoughts.

Ollie, sitting opposite, observed them with an intensity that made Rory’s skin prickle. His gaze was subtle but unyielding, a steady undercurrent of curiosity and suspicion. He wasn’t oblivious — not to the small moments she and Kimi tried to hide, the way their hands nearly brushed, the quick, furtive glances they exchanged.

Her smile was soft but tight as Ollie’s voice cut through the gentle clatter.

“You’ve been... different this weekend.”

Rory’s throat tightened. She met his gaze squarely. “I’m fine,” she said quietly, but the words felt hollow.

Ollie’s eyes lingered. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to confess everything — the restless nights, the stolen moments, the quiet hope she wasn’t ready to admit even to herself.

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The morning sun cast a pale sheen over the paddock at Imola, gilding the canvas awnings and shimmering across the shallow puddles left by last night’s rain. The circuit was already awake, alive with the slow, methodical rhythm of race weekend preparations.

In the distance, engines coughed to life, mechanics moving like clockwork around the cars, radios crackling with clipped voices. Tyres stacked, checked, rolled away. Tools laid out with precision. The scent of petrol and warm asphalt clung to the air, thick and familiar.

It was the kind of morning that always made Rory feel a little bit breathless—on edge, like the paddock itself was holding its breath in anticipation. But today, that feeling had teeth. It gnawed at her ribs.

Because today wasn’t just qualifying. It was Imola.

The Antonellis’ home race. Kimi’s home race.

Rory found him near the back of the garage, standing half in shadow, half bathed in the dull gold light filtering through the open shutters. His race suit hung low around his waist, arms bare, the fireproofs clinging to his shoulders. He hadn’t bothered to pull the sleeves up yet. His hands were braced against the workbench, head bowed as he watched the engineers pore over data, their voices a steady hum of analysis that he seemed entirely detached from.

But Rory knew better.

She’d spent enough hours in enough garages to know what this kind of silence meant. It wasn’t disinterest. It was a heavy weight. The kind that settled deep, dragging against the spine, pulling every thought into focus.

She didn’t call his name. Didn’t need to. She just approached quietly, her lanyard bouncing lightly against her ribs, her camera bag still slung over her shoulder.

When she reached him, she stood beside him without a word, her hands curling around the strap of her bag, knuckles pale. She felt the tension radiating off him in waves, coiled tight beneath his skin.

They stood like that for a while. Just breathing in the sounds of the garage around them—mechanics calling out tyre pressures, tyres thumping against the ground, the low whir of the wheel guns, the occasional burst of static over the team radios.

“Qualifying today,” Rory said eventually, her voice soft, careful. It wasn’t a reminder. He didn’t need one. It was just something to bridge the distance between them. Something to offer him a place to land.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

His voice was low, rougher than usual, like it had been scraped thin.

Rory pressed her shoulder lightly against his, just enough that he’d know she was there, that he didn’t have to carry the weight alone.

“You’ve handled worse,” she murmured, because he had. She’d seen him fight through impossible grids, through penalties and setbacks, through weekends that seemed written off before they even began.

But today was different.

Today was home.

And the home crowd didn’t forgive easily.

Kimi’s eyes flicked to hers, just briefly, and something in them softened, like he wanted to believe her. Like he wanted to set the weight down, even if only for a moment.

But then his expression shuttered again, drawn tight. His walls, always so quick to rise when the pressure sharpened.

“We’ll see,” he said, his voice like gravel.

Rory wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter if he qualified last or landed pole. That he was still the same to her. That she’d still find him in the crowd, still watch him with the same quiet ache blooming behind her ribs.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Not here.

Not with Ollie only a few steps away. Not with the Antonellis talking quietly near the hospitality suite.

They weren’t alone. They hadn’t been since they arrived.

So instead, she offered him a small, measured smile and stepped back, letting the space grow between them again.

She lifted her camera, framing a shot of the garage as the team gathered for final checks. The light caught in the curve of the halo, glinting off the wheel guns, flashing against the carbon fibre.

Kimi slipped his arms into his race suit and tugged the zip up in one clean motion, his body moving with the fluidity of muscle memory. When he fastened the HANS device around his shoulders, she caught the brief flicker of hesitation in his movements, the fraction of a second where his hands faltered before tightening the straps.

The pressure was different today. It pressed harder.

Rory adjusted the focus, catching a quiet shot of him securing his gloves, head dipped in concentration.

Her pulse thudded beneath her skin.

“Go in five,” one of the engineers called.

Kimi’s helmet was already in his hands. He spared her one last glance, just the barest flick of his gaze before the helmet came down over his head, the visor snapping shut with a finality that always made her stomach twist.

It was like he disappeared behind it.

And Rory couldn’t follow him there.

She tracked his movements through her lens as he made his way to the car, slipping into the cockpit with the ease of routine. The team swarmed around him, adjusting straps, tightening belts, checking brake temperatures.

She lowered her camera, the weight of it suddenly too much.

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P13.

She knew he wouldn’t be happy. 

Rory lingered at the edge of the pit wall, camera slack against her hip, watching him through the crush of bodies and equipment. She could feel him slipping behind the armour again—movements too controlled, face too carefully blank.

And she hated it.

When Kimi brushed past her without a word, she followed, weaving through the back corridors of the paddock until the noise thinned, until the sharp edges of the world dulled around them.

It wasn’t far—just behind the garage, tucked near a stack of spare tyres and transport crates where no one cared to look.

“Kimi.”

He didn’t stop. Just dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling hard enough that it sounded like it rattled in his chest.

She caught his arm, fingers curling tight around his wrist. “Wait.”

He stilled but didn’t turn.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” she said, softer now, but still with that edge, that heat rising just under her skin.

His jaw tensed, a muscle flickering in his cheek. “I’m not upset.”

“Kimi.”

“I’m not,” he snapped, finally yanking his arm free and rounding on her. His voice wasn’t loud, but it landed sharp. “I’m pissed off. I’m tired. But it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

Rory folded her arms across her chest, squaring her stance. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His mouth twisted, but not into a smile. “Pretend? I’m not pretending. I just—” He broke off, glancing back toward the garage, as if the walls could hear them.

“I just don’t get to have this. Not here. Not now.”

Her stomach tightened. She knew what he meant. They didn’t get this. Not comfort. Not softness. Not in front of the team, not in front of their families.

“Yeah,” she said, biting the word out before she could stop herself. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t touch you in front of them. I can’t even—” She shook her head, the burn in her throat catching her off guard. “I can’t even tell you it’s okay without it being a risk.”

Kimi’s eyes flicked to hers, something fragile flickering behind them, but his frustration won out. “That’s the deal, Rory. You knew what this was.”

Silence settled between them, heavy and raw.

Kimi’s chest rose and fell, his breathing too measured now, like he was holding something in, something sharp and dangerous that he didn’t trust himself to say.

When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, but it still carried that bite. “What do you want me to do? Kiss you in front of your brother? In front of my family? Pretend no one would notice?”

“I want you to let me be there for you,” she shot back, the words tumbling out before she could soften them. “I want to be able to tell you it’s not the end of the world without having to chase you behind the garage like some—”

“Like some what?” he challenged, stepping closer, his frustration sharp but not cold. Never cold with her.

“Like some secret,” she whispered, and this time she couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice. “Like I’m something you’re ashamed of.”

Kimi’s expression cracked, just a little, just enough to let something real slip through.

“You know you’re not,” he said, quieter now, but not gentler. Still frayed. Still coiled tight. “But if we’re not careful, we’ll lose this before we’ve even had the chance to figure out what it is.”

Rory hated that he was right. Hated that she’d known it all along.

His hand brushed hers—barely there, a ghost of a touch—but she latched onto it like it was something she could still hold onto.

And before she could push again, before she could ask him to give her more, he slipped back into the noise of the paddock, leaving her behind with the echo of the fight still caught in her chest.

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The house hummed with quiet energy, everyone settling in for the night, but Rory couldn’t sit still. She paced the hallway, the weight of the earlier argument still sitting in her chest, sharp and bitter.

She hadn’t expected him to knock on her door. Hadn’t expected to find him standing there, hair still damp from his post-qualifying shower, hoodie slung carelessly over his shoulders like he was just passing by. But his eyes told a different story—drawn, restless, frayed at the edges.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, but he didn’t move to leave.

“I know.”

And still, she let him in. Still, she let him back in, even though things between them were tangled, even though they hadn’t properly stitched the gap that cracked open behind the garage.

They didn’t talk about it now. Words would ruin this, whatever this was.

His hands found her waist, rough but wanting, pulling her in like he couldn’t help it, like he’d tried to stay away but had folded in the end. Her fingers laced into his hair, tugging him closer until his mouth crashed against hers, all tension and heat, no space left between them.

They stumbled into the narrow hallway outside her room, backs thudding softly against the wall. The house creaked around them, floorboards shifting beneath their feet, but neither of them cared. His hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, desperate to memorize every part of her.

It was a kind of desperation she’d only ever seen from him in these moments—when the doors were closed, when no one was watching, when they didn’t have to carry the weight of who they were supposed to be.

His mouth dragged along the line of her jaw, teeth grazing her skin, his breath uneven. She clung to him like she could pull him closer, like she could fold them into each other if she just held on tightly enough.

“Kimi,” she whispered, the name catching on a sharp breath as his hands splayed across her back, pressing her to the wall.

“I don’t want to fight,” he said, the words barely audible against her throat.

“Then don’t,” she breathed, threading her fingers through his hair, tipping his head back just enough to kiss him again, slower this time but no less intense.

It was clumsy in places, rushed in others, a quiet war between wanting and knowing better. They both knew better. But neither of them pulled away.

The wooden floor creaked again, this time from farther down the hall. Rory froze, her heart stuttering violently in her chest as she broke the kiss, pressing her palm flat against Kimi’s chest.

“Wait—” she mouthed, pulse thudding in her throat.

Footsteps, slow but steady, drawing closer.

Kimi’s breathing was ragged, his forehead resting against hers as his hands slid reluctantly from her waist.

They heard the faint clink of a glass being set down somewhere near the kitchen. A door creaked open. Then Ollie’s voice—low, tired, humming something under his breath as he crossed the hallway toward his room.

Rory’s grip on Kimi’s hoodie tightened, dragging him a step backward toward her door, but Kimi shook his head. Too risky. Too loud.

Instead, he tugged her gently by the wrist, pulling her a few paces down the hall toward the darker stretch that curved around to the back stairwell. They pressed themselves into the narrow alcove, half-hidden by the bend in the wall, hearts thundering, breath shallow.

Ollie’s footsteps paused just metres away. He sighed, muttered something about tomorrow’s early start, then kept walking, the floorboards groaning faintly under his weight until finally, mercifully, a door clicked shut.

Silence bled into the space between them, sharp and electric.

When Rory finally exhaled, Kimi’s hand slid from her wrist to her palm, lacing their fingers together. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, slow, like he didn’t want to let go just yet.

“We’re idiots,” she whispered, her voice trembling on the edge of a laugh.

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning in to steal another kiss, this one softer, lingering, like an apology. “But you’re mine.”

Her chest caved a little at that. She could feel the pulse of something dangerous beneath the words—something she wanted, something she feared.

Before she could answer, he let her hand slip from his and disappeared down the back staircase, his steps light, practiced, like he’d been doing this his whole life.

And Rory stood alone in the dark, the ghost of his touch still warming her skin.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The next morning, the paddock buzzed with a nervous kind of energy, the kind that always preceded a home race.

By the time the grid assembled, the stands were already a blur of flags and banners, a sea of colour and sound, the roar of the tifosi swelling like a tide.

Rory lingered behind the garage as the team made final adjustments. The radio crackled with clipped updates. Kimi’s voice filtered through, distant but steady, despite the nerves she knew must have been chewing at him from the inside out.

When the formation lap began, she moved to the back of the pit wall, her camera forgotten, her attention pinned entirely to the screen as the race unfolded.

Kimi’s start was clean. Nothing spectacular, but he held his position. Thirteenth. A brutal fight through the midfield, but she knew he could push forward.

The laps ticked by, each one stitched with tension. He picked off a car, then another. Patient, methodical. A slow climb, but a climb nonetheless.

Then, on lap 46, his voice cut through the radio again—tighter this time, laced with something sharp.

“Something’s wrong. Losing power.”

The pit wall scrambled, engineers leaning over the monitors, rapid-fire questions and commands snapping through the headsets.

The engineer’s voice crackled through, low and apologetic. “That’s it. We’re retiring the car.”

No outburst. No radio slam. Just silence.

Rory’s stomach twisted.

She found him later in his driver’s room, the door barely ajar. The lights were off, the only illumination coming from the slats in the blinds, cutting pale ribbons across the floor.

Kimi sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, helmet discarded on the table beside him. He was still in his race suit, gloves abandoned on the floor.

His hands were braced against his temples, head bowed, shoulders hunched. He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t speaking.

Rory stepped inside quietly, closing the door with a soft click behind her. She didn’t ask if she could be there. She just crossed the room, lowering herself to sit beside him.

They stayed like that for a while. No words. Just the quiet buzz of the paddock outside and the slow, measured rhythm of his breathing.

When she finally spoke, her voice was careful, steady. “I’m sorry.”

Kimi’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t lift his head.

“I know it’s not just about the race,” she said, watching the curve of his shoulders, the way his fingers dug into his hair like he was holding himself together by sheer force. “It’s everything. The home crowd. The pressure. The weight of all of it.”

His breath shuddered, just once, sharp and uneven.

“I just wanted to finish,” he said, voice rough. “Just wanted to give them something.”

“You don’t owe them anything,” she whispered, placing a hand on his back, her thumb tracing slow, grounding circles between his shoulder blades.

“They came here for me.”

“They came here because they love you. They’ll still love you tomorrow.”

His head finally tipped toward her shoulder, resting there, just barely. Like he was giving in, just a little.

“You don’t have to hold it together right now,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be okay.”

When he turned his face against her skin, she felt the damp heat of his tears—quiet, controlled, but real.

Rory slid her arm around him, holding him close, her lips brushing the top of his hair as the storm settled between them, softer now, shared.

He didn’t speak again, but he didn’t need to. She stayed with him in that quiet room, anchoring him to the floor while the rest of the world spun on without them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡

Thanks for reading!!!

ʚ🧸ɞ˚ ʚ🧸ɞ˚

tag list: @mywritersmind @chxseversion @widow-cevans @realfootageoftalik

[random-thot-generator]

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 12

TWELVE: Easily Torn, Not Easily Mended

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM READER

Summary: What is it they say about best laid plans? Well, your plan goes horribly wrong and just keeps getting worse. And worse... Ah, but chin up, dear reader. It's always darkest before the dawn.

Tags/Warnings: profanity, hints of spice but nothing explicit, angst... so much angst, hurt/no comfort

(Notes: I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.)

mdni banner & divider: @saradika-graphics

CHAPTER TWELVE

“From this new and intimate perspective, she learned a simple, obvious thing she had always known, and everyone knew; that a person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn, not easily mended.”

― Ian McEwan, Atonement

-

Ollie's been casting worried looks your way all day.

He can tell that something has gone terribly wrong, but you don't have it in you to tell him. Reliving all that had happened that morning by speaking of it would break you, and you're barely holding it together as it is.

Tears keep welling up out of nowhere, and you have to rush off to the loo or the kitchen or the supply closet to hide until you get yourself sorted out. You try to avoid Ollie as best you can.

While restocking the bar, the memory of how Peach wrapped herself around Simon suddenly pops into your mind. It leads to you imagining what the two of them must be doing at that very moment, and just the thought of it has your gorge rising. You end up in the loo on your knees, retching up your morning coffee and toast into the toilet.

By noon, Ollie has retreated to his office, and you take your lunch break. The idea of eating makes your stomach churn, so you grab a water and your phone and go out the back entrance.

The humidity hits you like a wall as soon as you step outside, and you immediately start to sweat. Flipping over an empty bucket, you drag it into the meager shade of the building and plop down with a tired sigh.

Pretending to be alright while your world is falling apart is exhausting. At this point, you're struggling to keep your head straight, your thoughts a jumbled mess. The feeling only gets worse when you open your phone and see that you've got a voicemail from Simon.

Your hands are shaking as your thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether or not to listen to his voicemail. In the end, you chicken out and call Fiona, instead. You tell yourself you're calling her for a distraction, a bit of idle chat to take your mind off of things. Yet as soon as you hear her voice, the floodgates open and the whole wretched story comes spilling out.

Needless to say, she's furious on your behalf. She rants for a solid five minutes, threatening to bring doom and destruction down on the heads of Simon and Peach, which does make you feel somewhat better. It's enough to stop your tears, at least.

"I can't believe he stood there an' let that manky tart call ya his bleedin' housekeeper! Swear it, love. Say the word an' I'll geld the fucker!"

You want to get angry about it, like Fiona, to rage and rant and throw things, but all you feel is heartbroken, a sadness that settles deep in the bones and aches like a wound. It hurts; it hurts so much, and it makes you feel sick.

Sick down to your very soul.

>>>>>>>>>>

-

You're still a mess by the time Ollie opens the door for business, but at least you've stopped spontaneously bursting into tears. You're so emotionally drained that you feel numb, working behind the bar like a robotic automaton. It's only when Ollie asks if 'Riley' is coming to pick you up after your shift that you show true signs of life.

In a dead panic, you grab your phone and dart into the kitchen, muttering, "shitshitshit..." as you open your texts. Typing out a quick message with trembling hands, you send it off to Simon and pray it reaches him in time.

[YOU]: No need to pick me up. Already have a ride. TTYL

You fret as you wait, half-expecting the phone to ring at any moment. That text is vague enough to set him off, to have him calling or charging down here to demand more intel. He's protective and suspicious of everyone and...

He's not answering back.

You wait for a minute, then two, then five, both dreading and hoping for a response, but it never comes. Your text sits there in its little speech bubble, unanswered and unread. It's like a knife to the gut, eviscerates you and hollows you out.

After ten minutes, you give up. You guess he's too busy to be bothered with you right now and, oh! Does that cut deep.

A nasty thought suddenly occurs to you. There was probably no need for you to text Simon at all. He must still be so wrapped up in Peach that he's completely forgotten about you. Hell, he forgot about you the moment he saw her standing in his doorway. You never had a chance.

Feeling more despondent than ever, you put away your phone and return to the bar.

>>>>>>>>>>

Fiona arrives a bit early for her shift, coming behind the bar where you're filling a pint for old Ned. You slide it across the bar to him and then shift your gaze to Fi.

"Christ, luv, ya look like hell."

You shrug, because you know this already. You're hurt because Simon hasn't called or texted back. Being forgotten is so much worse than simply being ignored. When you purposefully ignore someone, you're still acknowledging them, in a sense. You're still thinking about them, even if you choose not to engage with them. But being forgotten?

That means you haven't crossed their mind at all. Not once.

Fiona purses her lips, narrowing her eyes at you in assessment. She's gauging your pain, sussing out your mental state. She already knows that emotionally you're a wreck, but she still needs to determine how you're holding up. She doesn't seem very encouraged by what she sees.

"Have ya heard from the blighter?"

Your heart sinks at the question. "No, I..." You shake your head, then pause, remembering his voicemail. "Wait. Actually, he did call me earlier today and left a message. I've not listened to it yet. I was too chicken," you admit.

You take out your phone, feeling nervous, uncertain. "Should I listen to it?"

"It'll drive ya mad 'til ya do," she says with a sigh. "All I can say is, it better be a feckin' apology."

With Fi standing beside you, you finally gather the courage to listen to what Simon had to say. Pulling up the voicemail, you hit the PLAY arrow and tilt the phone so Fiona can listen in.

The first thing you hear is Simon's rumbling chuckle, along with a husky female giggle in the background.

(Simon speaking away from the phone) "Get off me, ya muppet. 'M try'na leave Dee a message."

(Peach giggling in the background but close) "Tell her I wore ya out this morning, so I'm takin' ya out to feed ya. Gotta rebuild your strength for round two later."

(Simon huffing a laugh) "Shuddup..."

...(rustling sounds)...

"Oi, Dee. 'Me an' Peach 'r goin' out f'lunch in Blackheath. She's wantin' t'check out some uh the shops, too, so we'll prob'ly be there all bloody afternoon. Should be back in time tuh pick ya up after work, though. Oh, an' Peach is gonna spend the night. Thought I'd warn ya. Later."

(click)

It feels like an invisible hand has reached into your chest and is squeezing your heart. It thuds hard and erratic, the sound loud in your ears. Your phone slips out of your numb fingers and hits the floor, breaking apart. You don't bother picking up the pieces.

Fiona has moved down to the end of the bar, whispering at Ollie's ear with a seething expression on her face. Ned and the other old geezers look on with keen interest, muttering their speculations back and forth. All the voices sound garbled, like your head's under water.

Your throat constricts, your next exhale wheezing out. You can't breathe in here. You feel like you're suffocating. You need to get out, go outside where there's more space, more air.

The quickest route is through the kitchen, so you slam through the swinging door and rush for the back exit. Stumbling out into the alley, you manage to get out just in time, before you heave up the water you drank earlier. You gag and spit and sob, bracing your arms against the wall. You drop your head, panting, and try to count your breaths.

Eventually, you hear the exit door creak open, but don't bother to see who's come out. Footsteps crunch on bits of broken glass, grinding them into sandy grit. A pair of red Converse appear. Fiona.

"Christ, Dee..."

You straighten, arms wrapping around your torso, as your eyes raise to meet hers. She blanches, hurting because you're hurt, and her bottom lip trembles before she wills it to stop.

"C'mere," she whispers, and wraps her arms around you. "I'm so sorry, luv. I can't believe Riley would just—" She bites off her words, shaking her head. "Never mind. Him an' tha' homewreckin' slag can both feck off."

Sniffling, you pull away to look at her, panic dawning on your face.

"What am I going to do, Fi? I can't go home. I can't be around them. If I see them together, I'll..."

The rest of your words dissolve into tears.

"I know, luv," she murmurs, rubbing your back to soothe you. "Ya come stay with me an' mum t'night. Hell, stay fer as long as ya want. We'll make do."

You sniff, clinging to her, beyond grateful for her offer. "Are you sure?"

Fi scoffs. "Like ya hafta ask." She keeps on hugging you, tight and fierce. "We'll get this sorted out, luv. Don't ya worry."

Heaving a sigh, you draw away to look at her, still hurting but resigned to it now.

"This sucks," you sniffle, your breath hitching. "I don't even have a change of clothes or my toothbrush."

"Then we'll go by Riley's an' get it."

You rear back, shaking your head. "No! I can't, Fi! I don't want to see—"

"Shh... Easy, now," she croons, trying to calm you. "I know ya don't want to see him, but just listen fer a second. Riley said him an' Peach were goin' t'Blackheath, so they may still be there. I can drive ya by his place t'see if they're still gone. If they are, we'll go in, grab ya some clothes and get out."

You bite your lip, considering it. "But what if they're back?"

She thinks about it for a moment, then smirks. "If they are, I'll have Ollie give Riley a call. He can talk 'em into comin' down to the Dog fer a pint. We'll wait fer 'em t'show up, then go back to Riley's and grab yer stuff."

You give her a worried frown, uncertain. "Do you think Ollie will do it, though? He might not want to get involved, and I don't want to drag him into the middle of it."

"Pfft!" Fi scoffs. "He saw how upset ya were, an' he's none too pleased with Riley right now. If I ask him, he'll do it."

Steeling your nerves, you take in a deep breath and blow it out. "Alright then. Let's go."

>>>>>>>>>>

It's just past six when Fiona turns down Simon's street and cruises past the line of row houses. A few dim lights glow in the windows of neighboring houses, but Simon's windows are dark.

"I don't see any lights on inside his flat, but his truck's here," Fi mutters, head turning as she drives past it.

You peer out at the line of cars parked at the curb. "I don't see Peach's rental car, though. She'd be parked behind his truck if she was here."

Fiona speeds up, does a U-turn, and goes back for another look. "Check all the cars, t'be sure," she says. "Riley said he was goin' with her to Blackheath. That makes me think they took her car."

After another drive-by, you still don't spot her rental. "Her car's not here."

"Let's do this, then."

Fiona parks up the street and shuts off the motor. Taking your hand, she looks you in the eye. "Are ya ready?"

You blow out a shaky breath and nod. "I'm ready. Let's hurry and get this over with."

You feel like a thief, slipping through the gate and creeping up Simon's walk. You've got your door keys already in hand, casting around furtive glances. You know you're being ridiculous—you live here, you're not breaking and entering—but the thought of Simon and Peach catching you here and confronting you is your current, worst nightmare.

Fi stands as lookout while you unlock the door and turn off the alarm, then she hurries inside after you and closes the door. She grins at you in the gloom of the foyer, her eyes glinting.

"See? Nothin' tuh worry about."

You open your mouth to reply, then nearly swallow your tongue when a voice at the top of the stairs calls out softly, "Who's there? Is that you, Deedee?"

No. Fucking. Way.

You both gawk as Peach comes padding down the stairs, dressed in a short, red kimono with her long, black hair hanging damp around her shoulders. She stops on the bottom step, propping a hand on her hip as she looks you both over.

"Simon was wonderin' where ya were. He tried callin', but ya didn't answer, so he tried the pub. His friend told him you were out with Fiona. I'm guessin' that's you?" she asks Fi.

You feel Fi tense up beside you and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. Side-eyeing you, she huffs out an irritated breath but maintains her cool.

"Yeah," she mutters and crosses her arms.

Peach smiles as she takes the last step down and saunters past you like she owns the place. Heading towards the kitchen, she calls over her shoulder, "Gettin' a drink. You guys want one?"

"Where's your rental car?" you blurt out, following her. "I didn't see it parked out front."

She giggles, flapping her hand. "Ah, we had to leave it in Blackheath and take an Uber home. After me an' Si went shopping, we stopped at a pub for a drink and ended up having too good of a time."

"Who the feck is Si?" Fi whispers to you as you trail Peach into the kitchen.

"Later," you mouth back.

Peach opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of water. "Sure ya don't want one?" she asks, standing in the bright vee of its light.

The sash of her robe has come undone, the kimono parted to reveal what she's wearing underneath. You nearly choke at the sight.

She's wearing a sheer, red, see-through nightie with a matching G-string that does little to hide her lithe body. Her pert breasts are pushed out proudly, hard nipples plain to see through the gauzy material.

She sees you both staring and laughs at the look on your faces. "You like?" she teases, her grin lewd. "Pretty hot, right? Si helped me pick it out. Man's got good taste."

Fiona makes a gurgling, choked sound in the back of her throat, her eyes bugging as she turns to glare at you.

You feel sick and avert your eyes. "We should go," you croak.

"Where's Riley?" Fi grits out between her clenched teeth.

"Fi, no," you hiss, shaking your head.

Peach cracks open her water and takes a slow sip, then tilts her head, giving you a sly little grin. "In bed, asleep. He needs the rest, so be quiet if ya go upstairs. Don't want to wake him."

You're shaking, wanting nothing more than to launch yourself over the island and rip out her silky, black hair. Fiona grips your elbow and pulls you back towards the kitchen door.

"C'mon, Dee," she mutters lowly, disgust plain on her face. "Let's get yer stuff and get the hell outta here."

Leading you up the stairs, Fiona practically drags you down the hall to your room, muttering a steady stream of curses under her breath the whole way. You come up short in front of Simon's bedroom door, tempted to barge in and just scream at him. You feel like you could scream until your throat is bloody and raw, and then you would scream some more. Instead your tongue stays glued to the roof of your mouth.

Fiona sees you staring and gives your arm a sharp tug, drawing your attention. "He's not worth it, Dee. He's not worth another second of yer time. Now, c'mon an' pack yer things. We need t'get outta here before I do somethin' that'll get me arrested."

The two of you manage to pack two large duffels plus a carry-on bag with all your toiletries in record time. You're just coming out of the loo into the hall when Peach appears at the top of the stairs. She sashays towards you with a smug smile, pausing at Simon's door as you approach.

"Are ya leavin' now?"

"Yeah," you rasp, choking on your own impotent fury. "Just need to get my bags from my room."

"Okay. See ya around, I guess." She twiddles her fingers in a mock wave before she opens Simon's door. "Be sure an' lock up on your way out, will ya, Deedee?" she says, then shuts the door with a soft click, not waiting for a response.

"Feckin' cunt!" Fiona hisses, taking a step towards Simon's door, before you yank her back and pull her into your room.

"Just leave it alone, Fi," you warble out, fighting tears. "They can both rot, for all I care."

Hitching a duffel up on your shoulder, you follow Fiona out of your room, but then freeze mid-step when you hear Simon grunt, followed by Peach's husky giggle.

"Ungh... Peach? Whaddya want? Why'd ya wake me up?" Simon slurs, his voice gravelly with sleep.

"Mmm, c'mon Si," she moans. "You know exactly what I want, baby..."

You can't get down the stairs fast enough, and when you run from the row house, you leave the front door standing wide open behind you.

-

prev. << | >> next

[fademirrored]

beta: Inquisitor

“Bit like a fox, that one. Fast, pointy, and brightly colored.”

Oleander “Olly” Trevelyan (‘Foxtrot’ if you’re Varric.) Inquisitor. Human noble.

Male. He/Him/His. Pansexual. 11 Harvestmere, 9:14 Dragon Ostwick, Free Marches. Rogue; duel wield. Assassin.

FC: Alexander Skarsgard, circa early True Blood. Eyes: Pale blue, purple towards the center in the right light. Hair: Platinum blond, verging on white. Shoulder blade-length, usually in a messy ponytail. Very fine. Skin: Incredibly pale. Does not tan. Does not freckle. Will only crisp like bacon. Calloused hands. Height: 6'2" Build: Tall, leggy. Broad shouldered, tapered waist. Well built, but built more for sprinting and ambushing than for direct melee combat. Notable Details: Crooked nose; broke it when he was younger. Scar through his right eyebrow. Has albinism. Voice: Graverobber from Repo! The Genetic Opera

Positives: Unambiguously friendly, assuming he hasn’t been given a reason to be wary or hostile; generally fairly accepting and open to strangers and newcomers. Resilient, physically and mentally; he bounces back from most things fairly quickly, his good cheer only mildly dinged. Independent and very curious; he genuinely wants to know as much about the people around him as they’ll let him get away with. Diplomatic; good at figuring out what concessions can and should be made, and knows when to put his foot down if someone is trying to push things too far. Negatives: He’s a bona fide little shit; you know he’s your friend because he will give you unending amounts of well-meaning shit until you regret using the word ‘friend’ anywhere where he can hear you. As such, he can be prone to getting on peoples nerves and it only gets worse when he’s nervous. Self-sacrificing dip, quite willing to ignore his own needs for extended periods if acknowledging them would cause distress; he takes his self-assigned role as the morale officer a touch too seriously. Stubborn and sometimes naive; too willing to believe a situation has taken a turn for the better when it probably hasn’t, equally unwilling to say a situation has gotten worse when it has. Had a sheltered upbringing; he means no harm, but can be tactless and clueless around elves, dwarves, and qunari. Neutrals: Fairly chummy. Usually wears his heart on his sleeve. Extroverted and incredibly social. Energetic. Very tactile and at ease about physical contact. Optimist vs. Pessimist: Usually an optimist, though he tries to be a realist. Quirks: Wears glasses at home/base. Usually wears dark goggles and/or a hood if he’s in the field; can be seen shading his eyes with his hand, papers, or anything convenient if he’s outside and doesn’t have his goggles. Hard of hearing; watches people intently when they’re talking to him. He can and will snap his fingers in someone’s face to remind them to look at him while they’re talking. Knows Ostwick-specific sign language. Very partial to a sickle and a hook blade, rather than straight blades. Gesticulates a lot while speaking.

Religion: Loosely Andrastian; believed less and less as the events progressed. Likes: Clothing with high-quality materials, even if his color choices can be questionable. Foxes. Fennecs. One hell of a sweet tooth. Warm weather yeah Skyhold was a hit. History. Art, of various types. Dislikes: People who mumble. Ambient noise, especially a lot of people talking over each other. Masks. Dark colors. Red wine. Cold weather, and especially snow he can’t fucking see. Feeling useless or like he’s in the way. Favorite Colors: Red. Yellow. Orange. Gold. Hobbies: Chess. Reading. Drawing. Getting into peoples business and generally being a puppy. Recreational parkour; can frequently be found on ledges, on roofs, or up trees at random times. Falconry. Writes letters home a lot.

Family: Estelle Trevelyan (mother). Everell Trevelyan (father). Steed: Citrine; hunter-shade dracolisk. Other Critters: Verity; hunting falcon. Romance: None. Friends: Dorian. Solas. Varric. Cassandra. Cullen. Note: Was and still is very close with his parents. Grew up as an only child, but I headcanon that his parents took in a handful of the youngest mages to escape from Ostwick’s Circle, to keep them safe.*everything in this sectioncan of course be tweaked or disregarded entirely for specific threads, if you’d rather.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Pool 🔞

Summary: Ollie is still making you feel uncomfortable, but Felix knows how to fix things.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Ollie being creepy, Felix being foxy and a little bit of naughtiness in the pool.

A/N: Just a quick one before I go to bed. The first NSFW/18+ Summers at Saltburn piece. I’ve been busy lately so haven’t had time to write much for this series but count this as me giving you guys a well deserved meal and dessert for waiting. Enjoy.

“Fix have you seen my-“ you stopped short. You thought it had been Felix you saw moving about in his room through the gap in the door, but you were surprised to find Ollie. “Oh, I thought you were Felix.” You hesitated, your brow furrowing as you looked at the young lad stood awkwardly in the middle of your boyfriend’s bedroom. “What-“

“Felix is already down by the pool.” Ollie said cutting you off before you could ask what he was doing there. “I just wanted to grab a book to take down with me.” Oliver began to explain. “He uh, said that I could read that new Harry Potter book everyone’s been passing around once he was done with it. I thought he’d finished it, so I was just looking for it so I could take it down to the pool with me and… you know, read it this afternoon.” He shrugged as he rambled out his explanation to you.

“Oookaaayyy.” You said hesitantly, dragging out the word as your body seemed to tilt itself away from him, as if his awkward creepiness had its own physical form that pushed you away from him.

You knew exactly what book it was he was talking about. Had sat up last night waiting for Felix to finish it so you could have some fun before going to sleep. “Here.” You said walking across the room and picking it off the top of the desk in Felix’s room, where it had been in open view the whole time.

“Ahh thanks.” Ollie said, taking it from you with a tight lipped smile and a head bob of thanks.

“No problem.” You said, but you didn’t return the smile as he awkwardly passed you and left.

—————

“Hey. Is everything alright?” Felix asked when you made it down to the pool, walking around the edge of it where Farleigh and Venetia were splashing around in the water chatting.

“Yeah.” You sighed as you sat yourself in Felix’s lap on one of the chairs around the pool.

“You don’t sound convinced?” He said as his hand brushed gently against your bare thigh. It was both a statement and a question, pressing you to unload the thoughts clearly on your mind.

“Yeah, it’s just-“ you started, but your voice trailed off as Oliver came to join the group, sitting himself in a chair next to Felix and yourself. He silently held up the Harry Potter book in his hand, a silent nod of acknowledgment to the two of you, before he opened up the book in his lap and began reading.

Felix didn’t need you to openly say what you were thinking out loud. He’d seen the way your eyes had followed Ollie around the pool. Felt how your body had bristled before leaning closer into his warmth for protection. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” He said. “I bet I could take your mind off him in no time.” He whispered into your ear as his hand began to glide its way further up your thigh and in towards your heat, his touch making your skin shiver, your core aching for him. You couldn’t help but pull your lips tight with a smirk.

He gave your thigh a light tap and you stood up so that Felix could stand too, pulling off his T-shirt over his head. He then stood at the edge of the pool and silently watched you as you stripped off your denim shorts and took off the open button up shirt you had slipped on as a cover up to come outside. Once stripped to your bikini you flashed him a look. He was looking you up and down intently. No matter how many times he’d seen you naked, there was always something about see in your body in a bikini that turned him on like a naughty school boy. He gave you a wry smirk and you just had enough time to look down at the problem growing in his shorts before he stepped off the edge of the pool and dropped into the water to hide his arousal from other prying eyes around the pool.

You slowly stepped up to the edge yourself. You could feel Ollie’s eyes looking over the top of the book at your body, but you willed yourself to ignore him. You instead looked down to Felix at your feet. “Come on, get in.” He encouraged you, tapping at the stones either side of your feet. When you continued to hesitate, he began to grab at your ankles, trying to pull you in.

“Ahhh, Fix.” You squealed as your feet began to hop about on the stones to avoid his hands.

In the end, you bit the bullet, doing a quick little run to the side away from Felix as he pushed himself up further onto the top of the pool edge to reach out for your legs. The water was shockingly cold against your skin as your head dipped below the water line but quickly acclimatised to the difference.

When you surfaced, you made your way back towards Felix, wrapping your arms and legs around his body like a koala. You could still feel his erection, pressed hard and flat now to his stomach where he had adjusted his shorts under the water. He looked over to where Farleigh and Venetia were talking at the other end of the pool, then back to you with a devilish smirk, his eyebrows raising suggestively.

You nibbled at your lip as you looked towards your pool companions who seemed to be giving the two of you some distance and paying you no mind; their conversation clearly to enthralling to break from just yet. You looked back to Felix with a twinkle in your eye. It wasn’t the first time you and Felix had partaken in this particular activity whilst you were in the pool together, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last; but you could still feel Ollie’s energy, his envious gaze fixated on you and Felix. You couldn’t help but find your head turning towards him.

“Just forget him.” Felix said, nuzzling himself into your neck, his lips grazing your ear as his hands on your hips began to push your core against his hard cock. “Please.” He cooed, his fingers already beginning to toy with one of the ties to your bikini bottoms.

You willed yourself to look away from Ollie and focus on your boyfriend again. You smashed your lips against his in a bruising kiss and you felt him smile against your mouth. He turned you both so your back was against the wall of the pool so you remained in place as his fingers pulled at the tie on your right hip, your bottoms floating to the side, only being held in place by one leg. He then shucked down the front of his shorts to fully expose his cock. He gave your folds a quick swipe, your slick mixing with the pool water before he dipped his fingers in and out of your aching cunt. It was only a couple of swipes- just enough to make sure you were ready for him. But you had been ready for him for most of the summer.

You took a quick glance over Felix’s shoulder to make sure Farleigh and Venetia were still occupied, whilst Felix looked over your own shoulder up at Ollie still sat, seemingly reading. “Look at me.” Felix urged you when he felt confident Ollie wasn’t paying any attention to the two of you.

You braced your arms tighter around his neck as he shifted you to sit on top of his cock. Your breathing hitched slightly and you fought back the moan that wanted to radiate from you at the feel of his length filling you up. “That’s my girl.” Felix cooed before he nipped at your lips with his own.

You never fucked in the pool. You once fucked in the pool house. But never in the pool. But you often did this- kept his cock warm whilst Felix walked you round the pool. To anyone else it would look like you were just having a cuddle and a chat as you slowly made your way around the pool- but you both knew what was really going on under the water. It was secretive and teasing and gave you both a thrill. Every now and again one of you would shift slightly and you’d have to hide the moan of pleasure that wanted to burst free. But you both lived for the edge- tormenting one another. Seeing who could hold out the longest.

And although you felt Ollie’s eyes on the two of you every now and again. Knew he was watching the two of you closely. Suspected he knew what was happening below the water and wishing it was him involved. You had to admit, Felix was right- this was probably the best way he could try and make you forget about the friend he had brought home and how he creeped you out.

[starshimmering]

Big Push | (Poppy Playtime) Boxy Boo x Reader

Fandom: Poppy Playtime

Genre: Friendship, Alternate Universe

Word Count: 1,631

Synopsis: You got separated from Kissy Missy and the others. As you journeyed through Playtime CO’s underground laboratory, you came across Boxy Boo. Through your efforts you managed to tame and befriend the big man-eating toy. Together the two of you venture deeper in the lab, holding to hope that you find the missing kids.

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An air of unease hung around you as you traversed the serpentine corridors of Playtime CO’s underground laboratory. Each step was measured, a delicate balance between calm and caution. Behind you, an unsettling rhythm echoed—powerful thumps that shook the very ground beneath your feet. Boxy Boo lurked beside you, his box-shaped head twitching erratically from side to side. His penetrating black doll eyes scanned the shadows, hungry for any hidden toy prey to sate his ravenous appetite. With every flex and unflex of his bright red claws, the anticipation in the air seemed to grow thicker, as if something thrilling—or terrifying—was just around the corner.

Glass windows flanked the walls on either side of you. Each one had rooms filled with tables turned over, chairs kicked aside, and tech equipment laying scattered about. Some of the rooms were too dark to see through. Others eerily flickered with shadows that revealed brief glimpses of blood stained across the wall and floor. Decomposed bodies of scientists lay scattered throughout each room.

Fragmented memories begin to surface as you walk down the laboratory’s hallway. You remembered it all vividly: Ollie revealing himself to be the Prototype, Poppy abandoning you, Kissy, Huggy, Dogday, Doey, Catnap, Mommy, Delight, and all the other toys you befriended in and out of Safe Haven. Then the floor exploded under your feet. While all the toys managed to get away, you weren’t so fortunate. Kissy had managed to catch you, but it didn’t make a difference as her arm couldn’t handle the added weight. All the more saddening when you watch said arm pop off from her shoulder.

The sound of the toys calling your name echoed around you as you descended into the hole. Filling the air with a sense of urgency. To your surprise, Huggy took a brave leap and dived down after you. His quick thinking and large toy body helped break your fall, which you appreciated. Although you expressed your concerns about his reckless decision, you were ultimately relieved and grateful that he was unharmed.

After a few minutes you and Huggy eventually came across the laboratory’s entrance. Blood red poppy flowers flanked you from both sides, and you saw a giant, empty glass tank in the corner of the area. You entered the next room, but Huggy couldn’t follow as the door closed shut behind you. While you were trying to figure out a way to get the door open, you found a tape and insert it into the player under the television. Leith Pier’s voice sounded through the speakers and at moment, you felt in your gut that something was wrong.

The piercing wail of alarms erupted in the room as Leith's voice crackled through the recording. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Huggy through the glass peep hole, his back turned to you, a mountain of blue shifting awkwardly in the dim light. Suddenly, his limp yellow hand came crashing down onto the steel floor with a thunderous slam, shaking the very ground beneath your feet. In that moment, Huggy turned just enough to cast a glance over his shoulder, his doll-like eyes wild and intense, sending shivers down your spine. Those same eyes had locked onto yours during your very first encounter, an unforgettable meeting etched into your memory from the very beginning.

With those wild eyes, Huggy charged at the locked door with terrifying speed. Slamed his plush hand hard on the door’s surface multiple times, growling like a wild animal as he tried desperately to break through. The pounding continued unabated until the toy behemoth leaned close to the peep hole and let out a bone chilling shirek. That alone was enough to prompt you to run. The chase was pure nightmare fuel, however, you did manage to escape Huggy.

But you found yourself alone once again. Navigating the dimly lit corridors of the laboratory. Each step felt aimless, and a heavy weight pressed down on your heart, smothering any flicker of hope for survival. Anxious thoughts swirled in your mind, especially about the toys you had been separated from. Was the Prototype closing in on them? Were they cowering somewhere in the vast, unwelcoming factory? With Safe Haven destroyed, where could they possibly seek refuge?

Just when despair threatened to consume you, something unexpected caught your eye. Pulling you back from the depths of your worries. Laying on the floor on its side was another giant toy: Boxy Boo. The toy behemoth was barely alive as it breathed heavily, staring at you with its doll eyes. The behemoth didn’t advance you immediately. It was tired and you deduced it was so hungry that it rendered it unable to move, even in its current condition.

You were hit with a dilemma seeing Boxy in this state. On one hand, you could just leave him there to starve to death, as punishment for all the innocent employees you befriended and lost in this behemoth’s belly. But on the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. This big toy was like Yarnaby, in a way. He had no idea what he was doing.

As you gazed sorrowfully at the colossal figure slowly fading away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had to do something. You decided to rescue this enormous toy against all odds. Driven by a deep kindness that welled up inside you. With determination, you delved deeper into the labyrinth of the laboratory, your heart racing as you searched for sustenance—anything that could nourish Boxy.

After what felt like an endless quest, you finally stumbled upon just enough meat, a grim collection of remnants that could appease the beast. You approached Boxy with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Hand-feeding him the makeshift meal. To your astonishment, he didn’t lash out; he eyed you at first, but eventually accepted your offering with a cautious appreciation.

After feeding him you watched Boxy slowly rise back to his feet. Anticipation bubbled within you, but you knew not to jump the gun. The toy behemoth lifted his head and bellowed so loud that the walls rattled. As you stood paralyzed, the behemoth lowered his head and locked eyes with you. Followed by a deep, long low growl.

You thought Boxy would finally eat you at that moment. Taking you by the waist in his claws, lift you up in the air, and shove you in his mouth before swallowing whole. But the giant toy just stood there staring at you. After a few minutes you took a step back, but you jumped in shock when Boxy Boo took a step forward at the same time. Everytime you retreated further away from the toy behemoth, he moves ever so closer to you.

In that moment of clarity, it dawned on you what was truly unfolding before your eyes. You had accomplished something that only Doctor Swayer and the countless scientists who had lost their lives could have only dared to imagine. Against all odds, you had managed to tame the beast! Now, it stood by your side, ready to follow you on your journey, a fierce companion loyal to your every move. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t happy.

All of these memories brought you back to the present.

A frown tugged at your lips as you and Boxy navigated the twisting hallway. A whirlwind of emotions surged within you—joy battled with an undercurrent of fear. The towering toy monster beside you was both a source of excitement and a cause for concern. While you felt a spark of happiness having such a formidable ally, the reports you had read lingered in your mind, casting shadows of doubt. Boxy Boo was known for his unpredictability, and that thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You once read a report that one of the scientists tried to feed Boxy during his feeding time. But instead of eating the meat that was given to him, the bigger body toy lunged for the scientist. Making him his midnight meal in his belly. This incident cause every scientist, including Doctor Sawyer to make new adjustments to Boxy’s cage.

It's only instinctual to keep your guard up around him. You witnessed the chaos that unfolded when Kevin seized control of Doey’s body, a scene that still haunts you. With Boxy, there’s no telling when he might switch sides or turn against you. The uncertainty hangs heavy in the air, making every interaction a game of calculated risks.

You and Boxy stopped in front of a door. Like every other door you came across since you entered the factory’s labyrinth, it required an Omni hand to unlock it. However, before you could retrieve the Omni hand, you saw Boxy approach the door. Without warning, he raised his red furry foot and kicked out. Kicking the door full force, shattering the entire thing from the hinges. The door flew forward and slammed hard on the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the hall’s new section.

“Huh.” You were genuinely surprised. “I…guess that works too.”

You glanced up at Boxy.

“Thanks, big guy,” You said, smiling at him.

Boxy glanced down at you and growled lowly in reply.

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” You said, jerking your head toward the new path ahead of you.

As you and Boxy pressed on toward the newly unveiled section of the laboratory, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Thoughts of reuniting with your beloved toy friends danced in your mind, fueling your determination. The urgent mission to find the missing children—perhaps even Poppy—added to the weight of the adventure ahead. Together, you steeled yourselves, ready to face the shadows of this nightmarish factory and emerge victorious.

You can only hope.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

ღ harry styles x female reader

ღ if there is one thing your baby boy loves in all of this world, and it’s when his daddy sings him to sleep…

ღ very fluffy and soft dad! harry styles

ღ just another little dad!harry piece, im slowly getting motivation back to write, so i hope to be more productive and active now <3

It was no secret to anyone in your lives at just how much of a daddy’s boy your 2 month old son Ollie was, the newborn knew instantly when he was in his fathers arm, and most days if it was anyone else’s we wouldn’t have it. Harry loved Ollie with his entire being, there was no greater joy in life than being a father and being married to you: his two greatest loves.

For a two month old he was fairly quiet, bedtime was usually easy enough for both you and Harry but the odd time it proved to be rather difficult, especially when there were no lullabies as part of Ollie’s night routine. Let’s get one thing straight, you could sing him lullabies, but nothing, and I mean nothing would ever beat Harry’s, you knew that, and little Ollie knew that too.

“My little Ollie bear, shhh daddy will be home soon, mummy promises….shhhh”

You were bouncing gently around the room, little sobs escaping your baby boys mouth, he knew his daddy wasn’t there, and you could only frown and rock the little one hoping Harry would be back from the store soon.

“My little love, it’s okay….”

When Ollie cried, he could cry, his lungs were in perfect shape there was no doubt about it. It also helped because as soon as Harry got home he was quick to leave the bags on the kitchen counter, taking two steps at a time up to your shared bedroom, a bit of a frantic look on his face

“M’sorry traffic was bad, what happened, s’he alright?”

Smiling tiredly you shook your head

“He’s alright, just fussy because his daddy isn’t singing to him”

You watched his shoulders relax slightly as he smile apologetically to you, leaning down to kiss you softly before taking Ollie from you

“Poor mummy huh? Giving her a hard time…? S’cause daddy’s a better singer huh?”

Ollie had begun to quiet down instantly, earning a light smack to Harry’s bicep from you as you rolled your eyes playfully

“I’ll go put the food away, thank you baby”

Smiling Harry kissed you once more before going to sit in the rocking chair that rested beside the french doors in the far end of your room, the sunsetting over the English countryside

“There we go, time for bed now my love”

Harry was quick to pull out the soft grey blanket you kept in a basket beside the rocking chair, covering Ollie with it before he began to sing softly

“Baby mine, don’t you cry, baby mine, dry your eyes, rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine”

Harry watched as Ollie’s eyes began to flutter closed, his tiny hand holding onto the string of his pleasing hoodie in a grip to ensure his father wouldn’t move.

“Little one when you play, don’t you mind what you say, let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine..”

Humming softly to finish off the lullaby, he waited until he could hear the little baby snores Ollie made, letting him know he was finally asleep. Pressing a few soft kisses to his cheeks, Harry lay him down in his bassinet, placed on your side of the bed for night feedings. Silently hoping he’d stay asleep as he put him down, waiting a few moments before turning the monitor on and making his way to find you.

“Did he go down okay?”

“Like a charm”

You smiled wrapping your arms around his torso

“What would we do if we both sucked at singing?”

Harry laughed

“You don’t suck, he just prefers me that’s all”

“You’ve heard me in the shower….”

“Okay so your tune could use a little work….”

It was your turn to laugh as you shook your head, kissing his stubble covered chin

“I love you H, thank you for always coming to the rescue”

“For you and Ollie, i’ll always come to rescue.”

[forever-ev]

Tasm!Peter and his children taking a walk in the rain

°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°

"Daddy, park!" Your two year old son yells.

"Not right now, Oliver, everything will be wet."

"No, no, no. Mommy!" Oliver calls out for you, wanting a second opinion.

"We can't, sweetheart. Do you want to get your sister and put on your coat so you can jump in puddles or something?" You offer.

Charlotte runs over, holding her coat and rain boots.

"You zip up their coats and help them get on their boots, I'll get the stroller and umbrellas." You say to Peter while opening the hall closet.

You unfold the double stroller and grab a ladybug print child sized umbrella and a navy blue regular one as your husband zips your son's raincoat. Charlotte sits on the couch, kicking her legs and humming some song she heard on a car ride a few days back, patiently waiting for her dad to help with her brother's coat.

"Daddy, do you like the rain?" Charlotte asks, still swinging her legs.

"Sometimes, but it makes it hard to go places, doesn't it?" He replies, slipping Oliver's rain boots on.

"Yeah, can I have a fruit snack?" She swings open the pantry door and stands on her step stool.

"Uh, ask your mom." He says, picking up your son.

You hand your daughter a fruit snack and pick her up too, "Do you want to walk or go in the stroller?"

"Stroller, I wanna sit next to baby brother." Charlotte replies, climbing into the double stroller.

Peter carries Oliver to you, sets him down in the stroller, and buckles both of your children. You throw on your raincoat and throw Peter's at him before opening the front door and stepping out onto the soaked sidewalk. You start to push the stroller through the town listening to your children's ramblings.

"Daddy, there's the thrift store. That's where we get the toys. I got my piggy there and Ollie got a shark toy. I don't think I like sharks. I really like ladybugs though. Do you like ladybugs?" Charlotte says.

"Yeah, I love ladybugs. You know I used to call your mom that before we had you two. Now it's a nickname for when I'm being extra affectionate." Peter replies.

"Oh yeah, it was always bug and lovebug and ladybug until you were born, Charlie." You chuckle.

"My daddy now." She giggles.

"He was mine first." You playfully argue back.

Peter laughs, "Ladies, there's enough of me to go around." He jokes.

Oliver chimes in with "My mommy now."

Peter gasps "No, she was mine first!"

"No, mine." Your son argues.

Everyone bursts out laughing as you pass the grocery store.

"Juice?" Your children say simultaneously.

"We have juice at home." You say together.

You continue to walk around until your toddlers fall asleep to the sound of the pouring rain and you turn back. Peter gives you a quick kiss just before you carry them inside and into their beds.

"We'll clean them up later." He says airily.

°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°☆°°°♡°°°

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.33

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 32 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race for your heart

The soft glow of the sunrise peeked through the curtains of the boat, casting a warm golden hue over the two of you. You stirred slightly, feeling the steady rise and fall of Franco's chest beneath your cheek. His arm was wrapped around you, holding you close, as if even in sleep, he wasn't willing to let you go.

A few moments later, you felt his lips press softly against your forehead, a lazy, affectionate gesture that made your heart swell.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice raspy from sleep.

You tilted your head to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Morning."

He smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "You look beautiful."

You scoffed playfully. "I probably look like a mess."

Franco chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. "A very beautiful mess."

You sighed contently, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before reluctantly pulling away. "As much as I'd love to stay here all morning, we have to go back."

He groaned dramatically. "I don't want to. Can't we just pretend the paddock doesn't exist?"

You laughed, sitting up and stretching. "You, out of all people, saying that?"

He smirked. "Okay, maybe not. But I'm still stealing you away again later."

Once you both freshened up as best as you could on the boat, Franco took you back to the hotel on his bike. Before you got off, he pulled you in for one last lingering kiss. "I'll see you at the paddock," he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, stepping back and watching him ride off before heading inside to change.

With some time to spare before heading to the circuit, you decided to take a walk through the streets of Monaco, taking in the breathtaking views. The air was crisp, the city slowly waking up, and the sight of the yachts bobbing in the harbour made everything feel surreal.

The paddock was already alive with energy by the time you arrived. The sun was shining over Monaco, making the sleek motorhomes and colorful team uniforms stand out even more vividly. You pulled out your phone as you stepped inside, sending Franco a quick text:

You: Just got here. Where are you?

It didn't take long for him to reply.

Franco: Busy right now, princesa. I'll come find you when I'm done.

You smiled at the nickname before tucking your phone back into your pocket. With some time to kill, you decided to grab something to eat at the McLaren motorhome. As you entered, you were immediately greeted by familiar faces—mechanics, engineers, and a few team members you'd gotten to know over time.

"Back already?" One of the engineers grinned at you.

"You know I can't stay away for too long," you joked, grabbing a small plate of food and settling into a chair.

After finishing your food, you wandered through the paddock, taking in the buzzing atmosphere. Everyone was busy—journalists running from one interview to the next, team personnel working on final preparations, drivers deep in conversation with their engineers.

As you glanced around, your eyes landed on Oliver in the distance. He wasn't alone—a girl stood beside him, her arm loosely wrapped around his. She had long, blonde hair that shone under the sunlight and striking grey eyes, her gaze sharp but warm as she listened to whatever Oliver was saying.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you made your way toward them. "Ollie!" you called out, making him turn.

His face immediately lit up when he saw you. "Hey! Look who's back."

"I told you I would be," you teased before shifting your gaze to the girl beside him. "And who is this?"

Oliver cleared his throat. "This is Estelle, my girlfriend."

You smiled and extended your hand. "Nice to meet you, Estelle. I'm—"

"Oh, I know who you are," she interrupted with a playful grin. "I've heard a lot about you. You seem to be quite popular around here."

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh?"

Oliver groaned. "She means that people won't stop talking about you."

Estelle laughed, tilting her head slightly. "Yeah, that's what I meant."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and quickly brushed it off with a chuckle. "I wouldn't say popular—just friendly."

Estelle smirked, glancing at Oliver, who rolled his eyes. "Trust me, she's being modest," he muttered.

Wanting to change the topic, you turned back to Estelle. "So, have you been to the paddock before?"

She nodded. "Yeah, a few times, but never with Oliver." She glanced at him before turning back to you. "It's a different experience this time, though. Seeing it through his eyes makes it more exciting."

You smiled. "That's sweet. And what do you do? Are you in motorsport, too?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I'm actually studying law."

Your eyebrows raised in admiration. "That's impressive. What kind of law?"

"Corporate, mostly," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I'm still exploring my options."

"That's amazing. I can barely handle my own deadlines—I can't imagine dealing with law school."

Estelle chuckled. "It's intense, but I enjoy it. And I like the challenge."

You nodded approvingly. "Well, if I ever need legal advice, I know who to call."

She grinned. "I'll make sure to give you the friends-and-family discount."

Oliver smirked, leaning in slightly. "Speaking of friends... do you have any plans later?"

You blinked. "Uh, not really. Why?"

"A few of us are planning to go out tonight. Just something casual—food, drinks, maybe some music," he said. "You should come."

You hesitated for a second, glancing at your phone. Franco hadn't mentioned any plans for the evening yet, but the idea of spending time with Oliver and Estelle, plus whoever else was coming, actually sounded fun.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you agreed. "Count me in."

Oliver grinned. "Perfect. I'll text you the details."

Before you could say anything else, your phone rang. You glanced at the screen and saw Franco's name flashing across it.

"Speaking of people I should see," you joked. "I have to go, but it was really nice meeting you, Estelle."

"Likewise," she said with a warm smile.

Oliver gave you a knowing look. "Don't let Franco steal all your time."

You laughed. "No promises."

With that, you answered the call and headed off to meet Franco, already looking forward to whatever he had planned—and the night ahead.

Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen, @hhhs7

Next part

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 24.

Summary: The night of the Henrys dinner has you experiencing the extremes of friendship, as the distance between you and Farleigh only seems to grow further apart, while you, Venetia, and Felix proceed to get arguably too close.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Felix/Reader/Venetia where the reader is the literal line between this being incest and this being just an incest-adjacent-but-definitely-still-taboo-grey-area. Drunk sex, oral (f receiving), reader's AGAB is never made specific.

A/N: 9442 words. HOLY SHIT. hello again friends, there has been so many different versions of the smut scene in this chapter, but im ultimately very happy and satisfied with what ended up in the final cut (I wrote this A/N and then rewrote the scene AGAIN (5th time I think I'm now at) and now I'm happy with the set up for it too 😌). that being said, i also rewrote the scene with Farleigh because I rewatched the Henrys dinner again and the original scene, while it would make sense emotionally in one sense, the scene I ended up with now I think works better, it still works emotionally but also it means he aligns both with the film and with the extra context the fic provides, yanno? if this chapter had you thinking or feeling anythings, you know i always love to know and hear them <3

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

The minute you step into the dining room by Oliver's side, Farleigh shoots you a withering look. Unfortunately he's already seated, a Henry, and a Henry's Wife on either side of him, and Oliver's in your ear quietly asking where he's meant to be sitting himself. All you can do is direct him to his seat, anxiety once again beginning to bubble in your gut. When you mouth an apology to Farleigh, he rolls his eyes, and turns to the Henry on his left with a fake smile. Fuck. It had been a long time since Farleigh had been genuinely upset with you, and even longer since you'd actually deserved it the way you know you do now. All you can hope is that you get the opportunity tonight, or at the very least tomorrow morning, to talk things out with him.

Before you can get too caught up in your thoughts, however, Venetia is slipping past you with a tight smile, pinching your ass as she goes. You hear Felix, half a step behind her and having seen the moment, sigh her name with exasperation, but she just turns throws him a playfully amused smirk before she's making her way to her seat by Oliver. It is a surprise to think they'd come down together, but Felix explains quietly to you that he'd felt the need to speak to her about Oliver, about what happened. The two of you take your seats together, Felix sounding exasperated as he explains that Venetia had said nothing had happened between her and Oliver; you know Venetia's watching the two of you, even as you make a point of fixing your gaze on the array of cutlery before you.

"Ollie was right," Felix muttered, fussing with the stem of his wine glass, clearly wishing it wasn't empty, "she was so pissed she doesn't even remember coming on to him- why 's she got to be like this, honestly?" At least he sounds more disappointed than angry. When you look up, chancing a glance over at the woman herself, you see her staring right back at you. Felix is still mulling over his empty glass, but the look in Venetia's eyes as she raises a single, perfect eyebrow at you says that she knows exactly what you're being told right now.

And that she knows you know she lied to Felix.

That woman has absolutely no remorse; the way these lies are really beginning to build is making you feel even more queasy than you already were. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, you simply avert your gaze, tipping your head to the side to instead look at Felix.

"I think it's because she likes seeing you pout," you teased softly, tone light in an attempt to bring up his mood. Felix's expression immediately shifts to something both embarrassed and faintly pleased, already anticipating your praise, "it's a cute look on you," you continued, wetting your lips, "at least I think so." There's a faint blush on his cheeks now, expression almost bashful. For a moment his gaze flicks to his sister, who's thankfully looked away as the staff have begun to serve drinks, but just as quickly he's looking back at you.

"You're shameless," he mutters, trying and failing to fight off a grin.

"And what, dear Felix, would I have to be ashamed of?" Lips quirking into a smug, little smile, you take quiet joy in the snort of laughter that escapes him. You're glad to see his mood has turned around considerably before you let your attention drift away, striking up a conversation with Henry of Suffolk on your other side.

As always, your planning pays off over the course of the dinner, engaging in lively conversation with the rest of the guests, masking your nerves with a bright smile and thoughtful bouts of small talk with everyone around you. With each name and detail you remember, you see those around you growing more comfortable and amiable with you just as they grew more intoxicated. Nobody goes overboard, of course, well, at least not in a way that would be completely unacceptable, but spirits are high and the guests are more than eager when Sir James excitedly informs them all of the wide selection of songs their karaoke machine has since Venetia had asked him to update it.

"Does this mean we get to hear you attempt Crocodile Rock again, Jimmy?" Lord Henry, Sir James' godson and always a little too enthusiastic for moments such as these, is the only person in the world who you think would ever call Sir James 'Jimmy'. He's done it once or twice before that you remember, but it still catches you off guard, and the laughter that escapes you is almost undignified, not that anybody notices. Sir James himself laughs along, as the rest of the table seems thoroughly amused by the idea, though he claims he may need to open another bottle of wine before he considers stepping up to the microphone himself.

Once dinner has concluded, several of the guests, yourself included, opt to head outside briefly to smoke before retiring to the larger drawing room the Cattons used to entertain groups like this. Felix declines your invitation, choosing instead to check in with Oliver as the evening was progressing. Considering Oliver had only just stopped looking like a deer in the headlights whenever someone tried to make conversation with him, you were sure he would appreciate a more familiar moment of kindness.

You, however, were afforded no such kindness. Stepping outside, your attention is immediately caught on Farleigh, perched on one of the railings by the stairs, pointedly having removed himself from the others who had also chosen to take in the evening air. Elegant and beautiful and so clearly full of disdain, his eyes narrow as you make eye contact with him. Pulling your own ornate cigarette case from your pocket, you join him, asking to borrow a light. Silently, he offers his lighter, and you thank him quietly, feeling his ice cold gaze boring into you.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," he sneered, voice low enough that only you could catch his words, "of you deciding to finally grace me with your presence." It stung.

"Farleigh," you sighed, gaze imploring as you finally met his, taking a draught from your cigarette. But he in unwavering in his irritation. Sighing, you let your focus drop as you tried to recall the lines you'd prepared earlier, "I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am, by seeming otherwise."

Farleigh snorts derisively, letting your words hang in the air as he finally looked away, raising his own cigarette to his lips. The way he smiles hold absolutely no warmth.

"You know he's lying to you," there's a casual cruelty to Farleigh's voice that you'd heard so often in your life, but so rarely directed at you, "I don't know what he told you and Felix, but he's lying, I know what I saw -"

"I know he's lying," you admit faintly, "I believe you, Farleigh, I know you wouldn't fuck with me and Fi over something like this," you kicked the stone steps idly with the toe of your fancy shoes, trying to keep your own voice just as light, "and Ollie knows it too."

"Know what?"

"That I know he's lying," finally you look up again, meeting his gaze but having no idea what to read in his expression, "that I believe you despite what he told us."

"Does Felix know?"

Farleigh knows he doesn't by the way you immediately go quiet. There's genuine disgust in his voice when he calls you spineless, when he tells you that your so blinded by love that you can't see that this can only end badly. Part of you believes he's right, but you still try to have hope despite that.

"You don't get it," you finally huff, scowling in an attempt to hide how hurt you were by his words, "and it's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to," you jab him in the chest for emphasis, cigarette between your fingers, "because it's so much easier for you to dismiss Ollie out of hand since you've never liked him, or even bothered to get to know him. Isn't it fucking easier for you, Farleigh, to hope we turn against him so you don't have to keep putting up with him?" Lip curling into a sneer, the vitriolic way you speak surprises even yourself.

"I'm not the bad guy for giving a shit about you," his voice is rising despite how he was fighting to remain dismissive and nonchalant, "and not trusting a fucking stranger -"

"This isn't you giving a shit about me," you couldn't help but scoff, wine drunk and more than able to match his bitchy energy with your own, "you give a shit about you, Farleigh; you and your fucking pride," you spit, finding yourself altogether tired of his ongoing attitude towards Oliver and how he was trying to now mask it as altruism, "what happens if it all works out, what then, Farleigh?"

"It's not going to~" Farleigh sings meanly under his breath with that same humourless smile as before. Despite being toe to toe with you, he'd been avoiding eye contact as best he could, until now. There's something in his eyes behind the icy anger that almost looks hurt. Farleigh's voice is a whisper as he leans in, nose to nose with you, "and when it goes badly, when you let him break your heart, and my cousin's heart, when you finally realise that he's fucking using you because nothing will ever be enough for him," Farleigh's lip curls derisively as you feels hot, angry tears stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, "don't you dare come crying to me that you 'loved not wisely but too well', because I know," for just a moment you feel pinned by the intensity of his gaze in this moment as he turned Othello's words on you yet again, "and I'm fucking warning you now."

He steps out of your space, sighing loudly, as if completely oblivious to the tears on your cheeks and how he's torn your heart to shreds. But then, as always, he knows you well enough to intuit exactly how to twist the knife.

"Don't look at me like that," he rolls his eyes, "you know I'm right," then, eyebrows raised, he even has the gall to ask if you're even going to finish your cigarette, which had gone out. Shaking your head weakly, your running entirely on autopilot as you pass it over to him.

As you stand there, the air feeling too warm on your skin, your collar too tight, the taste of smoke and ash suddenly sickening on your tongue, despair wells up within you, choking you too from the inside out. Farleigh's words play on repeat inside your head, and you know you should leave, shouldn't engage further, you weren't in your right mind to begin with, drunk and a mess of emotions. But one thought sticks out, loud above all the others.

"Everyone uses me, Farleigh," you choke out, "you- you really think that bothers me?" And you look to see him shocked in the face of your teary anger.

"What?"

"If Oliver were to ask for the world, I'd give it to him," you tell Farleigh with a defiant scowl, not bothering to lower your voice as you wipes your tears roughly, "I can afford it after all. When it comes to the people I love, I can afford anything, or did you you and your pride choose to forget?" Everyone around you has gone quiet, all eyes upon the two of you, but none of them matter to either you or Farleigh in this moment. Standing as tall as you're able, you square your shoulders. Without giving him a chance to reply, you take your anger and lingering sense of betrayal as you turned on your heel and stormed back inside.

Tomorrow you were sure you'd regret making a scene, regret your harsh words and arrogance, but you had no idea how else to get through to him at the time. If Farleigh was jealous because of how loving and accommodating you were to Oliver, he'd need to get over himself. There was nothing you wouldn't do, no price you wouldn't pay, for the people who made you and Felix happy, you thought he knew this. What in the hell could ever reassure or even convince him if, after so much of your lives together, all the years and moments and love shared already, didn't make it abundantly clear that that meant him too?

Pulling off your suit jacket the minute you step through the doors, you throw it into the hands of a confused member of the staff, just telling them to put it somewhere for Duncan to take care of. However, before you can even find Felix amid everyone gathered in the drawing room, you find your focus, and your arm, snatched by a mischievous looking Venetia. Considering she and Felix appear getting along once again, you decide you have all the time in the world to humour the girl who'd never once been afraid to ask you for something she wants. Perhaps she'll be able to take your mind off of Farleigh and all he'd said. At the very least she hands you another glass of champagne.

"You've been so cold to me these past few days," Venetia pouted where she was clinging to your arm. It seems in the dim light and in her current state she is completely oblivious to the fact that you'd just been crying, thank god, "if you don't sing something with me, I'll start thinking you don't even like me." She's wearing that beautiful, dangerous grin of hers that she always wears when she knows she's on the edge of pushing your buttons about something. But in this moment Venetia is mean and pretty, and you're feeling tipsy and indulgent, so you let yourself be coerced by the sight of her smile.

"Careful, pretty girl," you teased with a smirk, letting her drag you over to Duncan who had been granted the role of overseeing song selections, "I might start believing you want me around."

Surprisingly, Venetia looks up from the song book in her hands, as if surprised by your accusation.

"As if anyone else would be half as good to me; of course I want you around, pet," and then immediately turns back to poring over song choices. It hits you in a way you hadn't anticipated, and you know part of that was due to your altercation with Farleigh. Still, it was the kind of fond sentiment Venetia was so often shying away from admitting that sometimes you genuinely forgot how much she actually appreciated your place in her life. So often it seemed that she took you for granted, and you played along because it never outweighed how much joy and pleasure you took in making her happy, even if it was often at your expense. But Venetia was just as much a masochist, and quietly loved that you so often gave as good as you got.

Duncan's expression doesn't change from its carefully controlled neutral veneer while he watches you and Venetia flipping through the song book. For a moment you recall how often you'd begged as a teenager for him to let you join the service staff at Saltburn for events like this simply so you wouldn't have to be looked at or talked to. He'd of course never let you, nor had Elspeth when you'd gone to her with the proposal. Still, he'd taken you aside during your third Summer and asked what it was about the events that made them so difficult for you. He'd been putting together detailed dossiers on the events at the estate for you ever since.

You still think you'd make a good team member for the staff, but to you, Duncan was utterly irreplaceable at Saltburn.

"Oh, this one, don't you think, pet?" Venetia asks, tugging you once more to bring your attention to where she was pointing out a Fall Out Boy song. The one where the groom finds out his bride is a whore; the nerve on her after what she did two nights ago. Keeping your composure, however, you raise an eyebrow at her.

"Thought you weren't a fan of that tragic, emo stuff," you smirked, to which Venetia rolled her eyes, scoffing for you to pick one then, "what about ABBA?" You suggested knowingly, "everyone loves ABBA" Despite her attempt at remaining put out by you, her mood picks up when you at least tell her she can pick the song, and she's grinning with an almost childlike glee at the idea. Still, you know you don't have to worry too much, there's only one ABBA song you know she'll pick.

As Venetia's adding her song selection to the list, your focus finally drifts back around the room. You finish your glass and note that Farleigh's finally slunk on from outside, taking up brooding in an arm chair in a particularly dark corner of the room and refusing to look anywhere but his drink. Finally, however, you spot Felix in conversation with Oliver, his arm around the shorter man's shoulders where they've staked their claim on one end of the wide, ornate sofa. For just a moment his gaze finds you, and he gives you and his sister the briefest exasperated smile, like he knows exactly what you've been talked into.

There's still a few others who have yet to have their turn, so the two of you decide to get yourselves another drink -

"Grab one for me too, will you?" Felix calls after you from where he'd settled himself on the sofa.

"Of course, my darling, useless brother," Venetia practically sings back, swanning past him with an arm once more firmly tucked in yours.

"Thank you, Vee, I love you too," you think you can hear Felix rolling his eyes fondly. Still, Venetia's giggling as the two of you make your way to the drink caddy in the corner of the room.

Venetia snickers quietly, barking at you so low only you could hear as you poured Felix a glass of champagne after your own, and a third for Oliver too. But you don't have it in your heart to be mad, and grin as you knock your shoulder with her's.

"Watch yourself, Ven," you warned her playfully. Her laughter lights up the little corner of the room you both occupied. Your lingering reasons to stay mad at her regarding her tryst with Oliver seem to be disappearing faster as the night went on. It almost definitely has something to do with the drinks, but you can't seem to bring yourself to mind.

"Why would I need to watch myself when I've got you to do it for me again," and she gives a little twirl as if to emphasise, which becomes twofold when you catch her by the elbow to steady her as she almost over balances, "see?" Her voice is low and flirty, stepping into your space as she picks up her champagne glass, "so don't get all bitchy again," but her tone is sweet when she teases you, "I need my knight in shining armour."

"It's called consequences," you chuckled, though you still let her wind her arms around your neck in a gesture that would be far too intimate for even this secluded corner of this setting if most everyone else weren't also inebriated, "if you insist on jeopardising mine and Fi's happiness you'll have to learn to take care of yourself."

"But you like being good to me," her smile is sharp and she leans in, her forehead against yours. This rare, unashamedly needy side of Venetia was really quite endearing. Groaning, you allow yourself to give in for just a moment, kissing her quickly.

"God fucking help me, I do," you agreed with a vaguely frustrated huff. Venetia actually giggles, tells you this is why she loves you, and send more than happy with this result to let you both get back to the task you'd been at the drinks caddy for originally. It seemed no one had taken any real note of the intimate moment in the corner of the room anyhow, it kind of just seemed that that was how this night was progressing all around.

When you get back to Felix and Oliver, both with a drink in each hand, she drapes herself rather inelegantly on the arm of the sofa by her brother after she hands him his drink. Oliver seems surprised when you hand him one too, looking at you, leaning against the back of the sofa, with this wide-eyed look of gratefulness. The four of you watch with quiet amusement as one of the younger wives of the Henrys makes a decent attempt at Total Eclipse of the Heart.

"What'd you end up deciding on?" Felix murmurs loud enough for only your little group to hear, and Venetia giggles when all she says is the name of the band. Felix's smile grows wider, turning fond as he looks from her, to back at you. When he makes a noise of understanding, even you can't help but grin, despite how Oliver's voicing his confusion. All Felix can respond with is, "it's a very old, very stupid joke," which Venetia immediately scoffs at, reminding him that it's 'our song' in reference to the three of you.

As they bicker about whether or not it's stupid - you're of the opinion that it is, but that's part of the reason why you love it - you lean down to murmur to Oliver with a smirk;

"Does Your Mother Know?"

As the realisation hits him, a startled laugh escapes him, his hand coming up to cover his sudden smile. Felix turns to him, leaning his head against yours, asking Oliver now to weigh in on whether it was stupid.

"Dunno; does she know?" He grins in return, eyes shining in the low, golden light of the room. You, Felix, and Venetia all burst out laughing at that, earning a scathing look from the man who'd just stepped up to take the microphone, and the four of you loudly try to both apologise and shush each other while unable to fight off your collective giggles.

By the time you and Venetia step up to the microphone, you have no idea where your jacket is, the top few buttons of your fancy jumpsuit are undone, and you can't stop smiling. It's as if your earlier altercation with Farleigh is almost entirely forgotten. For a moment, everything's easy again, everything's okay and bright and Venetia is by your side as the two of you pass the mic back and forth between you both. It's the most lively song of the night so far, and you can see Elspeth laughing into her wine glass as she watches you both with fondness.

A song that had once been put on by Venetia herself in an act of malice, blasting it from her little, portable CD player when she'd caught you and Felix making out by the lake as teenagers, had since developed into the soundtrack of countless bright memories. The three of you had cheered when it had come on in a club in LA none of you were old enough to be in, it was always on road trip mixtapes, and had been played throughout various hotels all across the world as you'd been getting ready together to go out on the town.

It was your song after all.

All you could think in this moment is how much you hated when Felix and Venetia were on bad terms.

When the song ends, there's a smattering of applause. You pass the microphone over to the next singer as Venetia takes your hand and pulls you back over to Felix, who's regarding you both with amused exasperation. Oliver's gone to get himself another drink, Felix tells you as Venetia drapes herself on his lap, and you take the now vacant seat beside him.

"God I haven't heard that song in ages," Felix snorts, arm around Venetia to keep her steady as she gets herself more comfortable.

"We should go clubbing again," you insist, head resting on Felix's shoulder, tucked up against his other side, then, "Vee, you should come visit us at Oxford some weekend!" However both Cattons beside you scoff dismissively at the thought.

"God, I wouldn't be caught dead at some dreadful, uni, bar night."

"That's mean, Ven, they're fun!" Felix's dismissal immediately turns to playful indignance, "I'm more worried about your bursting into flames the minute you try to step foot on campus."

"Why would I burst into flames?!" Venetia's eyes went wide, but Felix looks equally as bright and shocked.

"Because that's what you said would happen when mum asked you if you'd ever consider enrolling after I got accepted!"

Venetia's mouth snaps closed, embarrassed smile and faint flush giving her away as her own words seem to be coming back to her.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled, "right," then, after a beat, she looks to you, "do you have any smokes on you, pet?"

"For you, Ven, always," you teased, feeling all kinds of contented and warm in this moment, by their side. Pulling your pocket book out of your pocket, you offer one to Venetia before apologising for not having a lighter. Felix tells her he's got it before she can even stand, and grunts as he tries to keep her balanced on his lap while reaching into his own pants pocket to pull out a little, ornate lighter. He flicks it open, holding the flame aloft for Venetia, who rolls her eyes as she lights her cigarette off of it.

"I still can't believe you have a formal lighter," she snickers.

"I only ever use it here," Felix grins to himself, gaze fixed on the silver lighter in his grip as he flips it open and closed, "honestly I don't even think I'll bring my suit back to Oxford this semester, I only wore it once, and Y/N knows where we can hire them."

"Of course they do," Venetia gives you a knowing smile, and you simply shrug, your mood unable to be ruined by anything, even canine allegations, in this moment.

"At least I'm consistent," you smirked, and Venetia reached over, her tone both saccharine and teasing as she scratches beneath your chin and calls you 'good doggie'. Felix groans at that, as he always did, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"Why've you've always got to ruin things, Vee?" He asked, exasperated, but Venetia simply leaned further into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders with a blithe smile.

"I haven't ruined anything, Felix; do you think I've ruined anything, pet?" Venetia's sharp gaze turns on you, and Felix turns his face to look at you too. All you do is shrug; right now you were taking her degrading nickname as a compliment.

"I can't believe you put up with her," Felix snorts.

"Because you haven't tasted the dog treats she buys me," you counter without even really thinking, though the minute Venetia starts absolutely cackling and Felix looks at you in absolute, horrified disbelief, you clarify, "I'm kidding, oh my god, Fi, I'm totally kidding!" Which thankfully is enough to alleviate his concerns, and he's then laughing just as hard as you and Venetia.

The others are looking at you again, the three of you lost in your own little world, but you can't even begin to care. Everything in this moment is warm and familiar and right. Your anxiety over events stands no chance when you're drunk and laughing with the Catton siblings by your side.

These were moments you loved. These were moments where you felt loved, where this house felt like your home. These were your people, Felix and Venetia, Farleigh too more often than not, and you knew, if given time, you could make Oliver feel just as loved, just as home as Saltburn had long since made you feel. But Farleigh and Oliver were far from your mind tonight; Oliver hadn't returned, and Farleigh was keeping his distance from you, and Venetia had kicked her legs out over you as your focus drifted back to the guests providing entertainment, trying to be a little less shameless, as Felix had so rightly called you earlier, about your love for them both. That being said, at least you weren't the only one... Why Henry had thought taking off his jumper like his rendition of Apple Bottom Jeans was a strip tease was beyond you, but at least it was amusing.

"Fuck it, I'm getting another drink," Felix announced, gently tapping on Venetia's thigh to indicate for her to finally get up and move. When she mentions that she could use one too, Felix is already offering you a hand, knowing you'd be coming along too.

The three of you make your back back over to the drink cart in the corner, all tipsy enough to enjoy bopping along to Henry's questionable singing to the catchy tune, each collecting another flute of champagne. Gaze scanning the gathering, your eyes zero in on the what you recognise to be Farleigh and Oliver together on one of the sofas facing a wall adorned by several royal portraits. Something about the sight, after your earlier conversation with Farleigh, makes you uneasy, and you find yourself finishing your drink quickly, turning back to the siblings in an attempt to distract yourself. Venetia's more than willing to pull you in to dance with her for the moment.

But then you hear it, and your blood turns cold. There's something about hearing Farleigh's voice rise brightly above Henry's singing, bringing the embarrassing display to a close, that makes a strange, guilty kind of anger flare to life in your chest.

Turning back, you watch with a dawning almost horror as he volunteers a clearly reluctant Oliver for the next song, one he is choosing for him. Unfortunately you know Farleigh too well to assume it's anything other than some sort of trap for your poor friend.

And much to your chagrin, you're right.

Oliver stumbles awkwardly through the lyrics he clearly doesn't know in front of a less than lukewarm audience. He doesn't seem to realise exactly what he's singing, that it's all a cruel joke, until -

"I love you-" Oliver's voice falters, falls as the next words flash up on screen, "you pay my rent."

But Farleigh's not looking at him, even as Oliver calls him over, tries to salvage the situation, insisting with as much ire as he can despite clearly being embarrassed, that it's Farleigh song too. Farleigh's looking at you, something vindictive in his gaze before he turns away, agreeing without hesitation, stepping into the spotlight without a shred of concern despite the song and it's less than kind implications.

That spiteful fucking asshole!

"No," leaves your lips as an involuntary, furious gasp. You don't even realise you make a start towards him until you feel Felix's hand holding your arm firmly, as if anticipating you better than you can.

"That's..." Felix doesn't have the exact words for it, part of him not wanting to believe his cousin was truely being malicious, but you knew better. Still, clearly he was as disappointed as you were angry.

"Come on, it's -" but Venetia stops laughing and just sighs when both you and Felix turn on her with less than approving looks. She rolls her eyes, arms crossed delicately over her chest as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm so fucking done with this," you hissed furiously, stalking out of the room. As much as you love Oliver and want to reassure him, you're in absolutely no state to do so.

While you don't exactly expect the Catton siblings to give up the remainder of their night for you, there's still a swell of gratefulness when you hear Venetia's heels against Saltburn's floorboards as she trots after you.

"You know usually -" you begin to rant, absolutely seething with rage as you blew past several bemused members of staff ferrying food and snacks to the drawing room, "- and yeah, I'll own up to this - usually it's my fault that I don't have fun at events like this," you turned on your heel suddenly at the bottom of the red staircase, feeling particularly dramatic and petty in your drunken fury. Venetia catches herself before she can run into you, watching you, letting you rant with amusement in her eyes. Not that that deters you in the slightest, "he's so petty, so fucking petty and vindictive."

"You know how Farleigh gets," Venetia's voice is still warm, despite your fury.

"Yeah, he's entitled," you hissed venomously, "I love you all to death, but you really all can be so fucking entitled, yes, including you," you added without a moment of hesitation.

"What'd I do?" Venetia laughed brightly, but you narrowed your eyes at her. She knows what she did. In the next moment, as if suddenly remembering, she raises her hands in mock surrender. But there's a softness in her eyes as she gently lowers her hands to your shoulders, reassuring you that they all loved you too.

Behind her however, coming out of the drawing room, Felix is approaching with a less than enthused expression.

"Ollie won't talk to me," he's actually pouting, "says he's fine," clearly Felix doesn't believe him, "says he just wants to be left alone," clearly Felix doesn't like that either.

"Y/N's calling us entitled," Venetia supplies with a candid kind of amusement. While Felix's expression turns to confusion, you groan loudly at her antics and turn on your heel, throwing your hands up in the air with exasperation as you head back through the house towards your bedroom, fully retiring from everything that has happened tonight.

"What are we being entitled about?" Felix asks, trotting behind you with his sister in tow. You don't dignify it with an answer, but Venetia snorts.

"Them, I assume."

"Oh," Felix contemplates for a moment, before picking up his pace to match your stride, "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"It's fine, Fi," you sighed, taking his hand as he walked in step beside you, "I'm mostly just mad at Farleigh -"

"How come you're all understanding with Feef, but I get my head bitten off?" Venetia stepped up to your other side, tone incredulous as she keeps up with you both, "you'd let him get away with murder!"

Felix sticks his tongue out at his sister with a petulant kind of glee.

"God, I'm so tired of taking sides," taking the steps up to the second floor, you huff a long, world-weary sigh, "I just want to forget this night ever happened, honestly."

"I can help with that," Felix's tone is laden with smug innuendo, and finally you feel yourself beginning to relax, giving his hand a squeeze. Beside you, Venetia is quiet, but you can tell she wants to say something. Apparently Felix can tell too, however, as less than a moment later he says, "come on, out with it Vee, what've you got a problem with now."

"Will I be called entitled again if I say I'd appreciate their company tonight instead?" Venetia bites back at her brother as the three of you come to the end of the blue room and step into the long gallery. Felix's grip on your hand grows just a little tighter; you know he's trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't make him sound entitled to you too.

"Don't make me choose," you muttered finally when you get to your bedroom, forehead pressed against the door, "please, I just want to be good to you both, you know this," then after a soft sigh you hear yourself whisper, "I just want to be good."

After a beat, Venetia laughs airily.

"Careful about what you're implying, pet," but she actually sounds coy when she says it. It hits you a moment later what she means, and though you initially tried to deny it, Venetia can't help herself but continue, "I mean, I know our family's blessed with good genes, but -"

"Venetia, you're the one who asked if I think about Felix when I fuck you," you turned on her, feeling altogether flustered at the idea and desperate for her to stop talking. Venetia turns bright red, letting out a mortified shriek, but surprisingly Felix is grinning at you.

"Do you?"

"I..." but you can't look either of them in the eyes, "not usually -"

"Ha!" Felix immediately turns to shout in his sister's face, but despite this, Venetia lights up as if thoroughly vindicated.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" She crows with a delight neither you nor Felix had seemed to anticipate, "'He doesn't have a cunt, Ven'," she parroted your own words back at you from long ago in a mocking immitation, "god you were so fucking smarmy about it too, I knew you were lying!"

"I wasn't being smarmy, I was trying not to hurt your feelings!" You couldn't help but laugh, given the situation, however Venetia, head held high, barges right past you, opening the door.

"What hurts my feelings, pet," she tells you suddenly sounding incredibly matter-of-fact, making herself at home on the edge of the bed, looking at you both still in the doorway, "is that I'm pretty sure you're better when you go down on me while you're thinking about Felix," she gives her words a moment to settle in before emphasising - "like distinctly, probably measurably better."

When you turn to Felix, you're not quite sure exactly what you're anticipating, but it's definitely not for him to be looking as ridiculously smug as he does at that moment. You know he can tell how embarrassed you are by this all, but he clearly is taking it as a personal victory.

"For the record, I'm not shit at giving head when I'm not thinking about you."

That stupid, beautiful, smug bastard just grins wider at you.

"Obviously you're good," Venetia rolls her eyes, "we both know I've put too much time into this part of our friendship for you not to be, but," she pauses, wetting her lips as she waits for you to look back at her. When you turn back she's leaning back on her hands, wearing a surprisingly similar, pleased look as she very obviously leers at you. Of course you both already know the answer, but she asks anyways, just in the hopes of hearing you admit it; "I'm right, aren't I, Y/N?"

"Why does it even matter?" You tried weakly, unable to look at either of them as you made your way to the dresser to start removing your jewellery.

"It's a matter of principle," Felix, why, you think to yourself when you can hear his big, dumb grin in his voice. It's enough to remind you that you're all still rather drunk, but not enough for you to stop the conversation from heading in a very dangerous direction at full speed.

"No, Felix, shut up -" Venetia orders almost immediately at the sound of his delight regarding the implications she'd put forth about you, and he protests, but she ignores him, turning her focus back on you, "you're a slut for my brother, you've made that abundantly clear," she rolls her eyes dismissively, powering on despite how you were left reeling by how casually she'd said it, "who cares, I've made my peace with it, but -!" Eyebrows raised and eyes suddenly shining with a terrifying amount of glee, she grins at you, "if my theory is correct, then after tonight, Felix can hold it over my head until I die, and I get one of the best orgasms of my life."

Oh! Okay, this was a legitimate offer. Huh. Wait. Why did it already feel like you were the last one to realise she was being serious? Why did it already feel like you were the only one left to agree?

You weren't used to Felix and Venetia being on the same wavelength... Though honestly, if quietly, you really weren't complaining the more you think about it.

As much as you fucked around with them both, had spent a countless amount of time sharing casual nudity in the field together over the years with endless teasing and occasional curious questions here and there, and had spent more than a little time speculating about Venetia's desires on your own time, you hadn't... At least, not since you were all teens, and definitely never together like this.

Yeah, sure, there had been definitely quite a few times where you'd been with one of the siblings, or Farleigh, while one - or a few times both - were there, around. Sometimes it was accidental, sometimes it was something of a dare, or a twisted game, or a strange type of learning experience, but you were dumb, horny teenagers being dumb, horny teenagers.

But there's no youthful naivety in the way Venetia's looking at you now. Surprisingly, however, Felix speaks up in favour too.

"It does mean that you don't have to choose between us," he points out, voice gentle and warm as he approaches you. You've gone still by the dresser, conflicted desire pooling low in your gut as you spent more and more time considering it. Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, voice low and enticing in your ear, his gaze focused on yours in the mirror's reflection, "and I want the chance to make you feel good after the shitshow these few days have been," he murmurs, though he can't help but smirk as he adds, "we all know you get off on being good to us too."

"Are you sure? It's Venetia," you reminded him, giving him a last chance at an out even if you know he won't take it.

"Yeah, but I'm not fucking her," he points out flatly, "and it's not like it's much worse than what happened during that layover in Dubai a few years ago-"

"You two are absolute animals for that, god, I forgot about that," Venetia practically cackled as your eyes go wide as you too suddenly recall the moment Felix was talking about, "I still can't believe Y/N's into -"

"Shut up, Venetia!" You hissed through clenched teeth, mortified at the memory of what she'd witnessed when you and Felix had gotten back from the hotel bar and toppled into the bed across from hers in the little hotel room, "you promised you'd never bring that up, on pain of death." Venetia only laughs louder. Still, Felix had a point; somehow this was much less embarrassing. At least for you.

So it takes you only a few more moments of deliberation before you inevitably give in to your collective desire. Just for a second, however, before acting on it, you find yourself seeing right through Felix's intentions and seductive tone. He of course did want to be good to you, you knew that to be true, and you did get off on getting others off, but there was a key part that he was purposefully leaving out. He knows you see it; his expression is scrunching with amusement already as he rests his chin on your shoulder, anticipating your next words -

"You really wanna hold this over Ven's head, don't you?" At your words, your bright laughter, Felix immediately breaks, doesn't even try to deny it as he's laughing too.

"I really wanna hold this over her head forever and ever, yes."

"It's not like you'll ever tell anyone," Venetia points out archly from the bed. Upon consideration, you both realise she's absolutely right, and Felix's face falls for a moment, though you pat his cheek in consolidation.

"We'll know," you reassure him, and he's bright once more, ascertaining that as long as the three of you know it's worth it; you're the only three who would give a shit in the exact, weird way he needs you to anyways. Venetia blows a loud, petulant raspberry at you both.

Glancing over your shoulder, suddenly more than a little nervous despite your excitement building too, you see Venetia still thankfully grinning. Felix steps back from you, heading to sit down by her side. The two of them now regard you with eerily similar, evaluative looks.

"I feel like Farleigh once warned us something like this would happen," Felix says with a half smile, glancing at Venetia as he pulled off his bowtie.

"Which is why - again - we're never ever telling anyone about this," Venetia says firmly, which Felix snorts a quiet laugh at as he agrees, "especially not Farleigh," reaching up, she unclasp her own sparkling ensemble where it was tied at the back of her neck. As she does so, her gaze fixes back on you, on where you were now hovering with nervous anticipation. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest very suddenly - this is not where you had expected this night to go, not that you were complaining, it was just that you didn't quite know how to proceed. God you hoped at least one of them would set up and take the lead, because there was no way you could bring yourself to even consider taking charge in this moment.

Before Venetia can even get a word in, however, Felix speaks up, teasing you in a low voice.

"Thought you didn't want to choose?"

"I didn't- I don't," you assured quickly, feeling all tipsy and giddy and nervous and excited all at once, frozen to the spot when you can't be sure which one you should be acting on, "this is definitely the perfect solution to that," you giggled nervously, beginning to fidget, before suddenly looking at Venetia in alarm, head whipping around to look at Felix, "but I'm not getting off to the fact that you're siblings, for the record -" Felix makes a noise of vaguely horrified surprised, but Venetia just laughs.

"You can if you want," she teases coyly, "if it helps." Helps you get her off, you know she means.

"Fucking Christ, Vee," Felix mutters under his breath, but you can hear his amusement. This, thankfully, has alleviated your concerns, and you grin.

"So we're all- this is -? I just- I didn't expect- are you both -?"

"I'm rather excited," Venetia smirks casually, standing and turning away from you, sweeping her hair over her shoulders as an indication that she needs you to undo the zip down the back of her jumpsuit, "part of me does honestly wonder if all those whorish noises you both make are still real," she speaks as if you're not even here, even as your hands glide over her, helping her out of her clothes.

"Hey!" Felix protests as he's beckoning you over, "those weren't meant for you!" Venetia pouts for a moment when you leave her side, but gets over it quickly, draping herself, nude, back across the bed you and Felix share.

"Se ducing the street rat?" She asks candidly, to which both you and Felix both tell her to be nice, almost in synch. In response, Venetia fakes gagging and mutters that she hates you both. Then, after a moment of deliberation, she idly mentions with a vague air of disgust that she doesn't want to think about Oliver and Felix together.

"I don't want you thinking about Oliver at all, actually," Felix says cattily as he's undoing the buttons of your jumpsuit, to which she rolls her eyes and calls him possessive, "do you want to leave?" Felix asks her with a frank, unimpressed look, "you can go if you're going to be a pain; you don't have to be here, Vee."

Venetia groans as if putting up with Felix in this moment was quickly becoming a much bigger downside than she'd anticipated, but she does agree to stay and not to talk about Oliver. Felix's expression softens then when he casts an amused look to you where you've finished making quick work of undoing his dress shirt. Once he too has you unbuttoned, you shrug off the jumpsuit, letting it pool by your feel before you kick it away. His hands hold your bare thighs securely, all bickering forgotten in this moment as he gazed up at you with nothing but affection in the way he's regarding you. Leaning in, you kiss him, unable to fight back your own smile.

"But if it turns out you're bad at fucking and Y/N's been faking it with you this whole time, I will tell Farleigh," Venetia warns sharply, interrupting your moment as she seemed unable to help herself from needling the two of you even now. Which may have been her plan all along, you realise upon seeing her smile as you both arc up with indignation at the implication.

If Felix is fucking you absolutely senseless out of spite, you all know she'll still benefit from it.

It becomes something of a blur after that, Felix rolling his eyes as he undoes your buttons while Venetia refuses to help you out of your clothes before it's a rush of sweat and sex and breathless pleasure, moments to breathe and more wine. The Cattons push and pull and puppet you for their pleasure, much to your own, and you lose track of how it should feel wrong when it really starts to feel so fucking right.

Venetia was absolutely right; you absolutely loved how spoiled and entitled they could be, especially if it's you and your body they're acting so entitled over.

Finally, on your back, legs wrapped around Felix's waist, you're bracedagainst Venetia's trembling thighs as she desperately rides your face. All three of you seem to know she's getting closer, and Felix fucks you in deep, steady strokes. But he leans forward, his hand coming to rest firmly on the back of Venetia's neck as she's gasping and panting. He pulls her close enough that their foreheads press together, Venetia, incoherent and eyes squeezed closed, and his other hand gently hold her face, thumb brushing against her cheek.

"That's it, Vee, show them how much you appreciate them," Felix mumbled encouragingly, and Venetia gasps at the sound of his voice, winding her arms around his neck, bracing herself against him as she grew steadily closer to her peak.

"You're such a freak, Felix," Venetia whimpers, as if she wasn't a completely willing and enthusiastic participant in the events, "I can't believe -" but then you whimpered against her cunt, tongue fucking her desperately as you dug the nails of one hand into her thighs, fingers of the other finding her clit and setting a relentless pace. The change had her swearing and moaning, sharing desperate panting breaths with her brother, never quite crossing that gossamer thread into something they both couldn't justify, that line in the sand neither could talk their way into coming back from.

"Let them get you off, Vee," Felix murmurs, "if you're gonna call them a dog, let them be a good one for you," you let out an appreciative noise, at his praise, keeping up how insistently, thoroughly you were fucking her with your tongue and fingers. Venetia comes with her forehead braced on Felix's shoulder, him holding her close, fingers running through her hair as she gasps and shudders, her thighs twitching either side of your head.

Venetia catching her breath shuffles back, breathing hard as she sat back against the bedpost at the foot of the bed, giving Felix the chance to focus on fucking you properly himself. In the next moment he's over you, has your knees pressed against your chest beneath him before your head has even stopped spinning from the sensations of it all. The way he's smiling down at you, all amused and affectionate - god, he almost looks proud - while his cock is deep inside of you at this new, perfect angle, its enough for you to know you won't last much longer.

"It's actually really gross how hot I find you right now, pet," Venetia's smirking at you when you angle your head to look at her, your expression one of dazed bliss. She reaches languidly down the side of the bed to where you'd left your jumpsuit, fishing around in the pocket for your cigarettes. You hear Felix's warm laughter as he presses his face against the crook of your neck, but thank fuck he doesn't stop, because you're so damn close. You've lost the ability to speak, to even really think, so caught up in the way you're coming undone under their combined attention and affection.

"You always this pretty when you're about to cum?" Venetia's voice is low and sultry, reaching out to caress your cheek with her free hand. She's sitting by you now, leaning down on her elbow to drink in the sight of you like this, "or just when Felix is being especially good to you?" And she kisses you messily, a pleased moan escaping her as she tastes herself on your tongue. Felix gasps 'fuck' against your collar, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as the feeling of you cumming around him tips him over the edge too. Venetia grins against your lips as you whimper and gasp into her mouth, hand fisting in her hair as the pleasure overwhelms you.

When you let her go, she's smiling softly, her forehead pressed to yours as you pant, trying to catch your breath, reorient yourself.

"They're always this pretty," Felix finally says a little breathlessly. Venetia laughs softly, sitting up again, though she takes your hand. Felix gently lowers your legs back to the bed before he moves to stand; you can hear the grin in his voice even if you're still to dazed to even sit up. It's with absolute bliss that you gaze up at the ceiling of stars you'd painted for him, watching the faintest traces that are still glowing.

"I think you're just always good to them," Venetia teases fondly before she gives your hand a squeeze, looking down at you, "he is, isn't he? He's such a loverboy when it comes to you, it's sickening, truly," but there's no bite to her words. There's a pleasant fog in your mind leftover from all the sensations you're still coming down from, so all you can do is beam up at her, nodding.

And when Felix laughs, you feel it light up in your chest.

"Can I borrow a robe?" Venetia asks idly, finally dropping your hand; she too stands, "my point has been well and truly proven, and I think I've had enough of you both for tonight." After Felix tosses her a robe, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet; he sounds somehow both proud and sheepish when he apologises after noticing how your legs are trembling.

With her sparkly ensemble and shoes in hand, Venetia's left the room before you even make it to the bathroom to clean up.

"Oh God," in the shower, Felix seems to be hit by a realisation that leaves him more than a little mortified, "I hope Ollie didn't hear any of that." The thought hadn't even occurred to you, and for the barest moment your expression mirrors his as your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Then, after another moment of consideration, Felix's seems to become more thoughtful than concerned as he utters, "actually," he deliberates, "is it weird that I think Ollie would be just as into that as we were?" He has a point, and you snort a laugh, shaking your head, and Felix's embarrassed laughter joins yours after only a moment more.

Unfortunately, as you would find out the following morning, not only was Oliver completely oblivious to the vaguely taboo tryst that had happened in the room attached his own, but it somehow wasn't even the most scandalous thing that had happened that night.

[sethsclearwater]

hi! would u write a fluff with Paul and pregnant reader where he is really happy about it and goes around telling everybody (the elders, Sam and Emily) that they're having a baby at every opportunity he has and everybody is so proud of him. Just some tooth rotting fluff

i love him🥺🥺

...

"isn't she just the prettiest thing you've ever seen?" paul asked jared and sam, happily holding the ultrasound picture he'd insisted you get printed out at your most recent doctor's appointment.

jared laughed, "paul you literally can't even see anyth-" he started, but was quickly cut off when sam smacked him upside the head, eliciting a loud groan from the male.

"she's adorable paul," sam smiled, "they said everything is okay with both of them?" he asked as he leaned up against the counter of his and emily's kitchen, his question referring to you and the baby.

paul nodded, coming to stand behind you at the kitchen island, setting down the ultrasound picture so he could slide his hands over your shoulders to gently rub them, "all good," he reassured, "right princess?" he asked you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

you giggled and nodded, sliding your hands over your protruding bump, "all is well with the lahote girls," you teased, squealing as paul leaned down to pepper your cheeks with kisses, "paul-" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he slid his hands down your sides so he could also rest his hands atop your bump.

jared rolled his eyes, going to grab one of the muffins from the plate emily had set down just before running upstairs to check on hers and sam's sleeping toddler. sure enough, emily appeared a few moments later. she was quick to spot the sonogram, immediately stepping over to the two of you to pick it up, "oh my god is this her?" she squealed, beaming at the two of you when you and paul both nodded, paul momentarily stopping his kisses to nod.

"oh she's the cutest!" emily exclaimed, spinning around to face her husband who let out a breathy chuckle and nodded, "we need to have another one," she said, all of you letting out laughs at her comment.

"maybe after olly gets out of this sleep regression phase," sam offered, chuckling when emily nodded, setting the sonogram back down on the island so she could wrap her arms around sam's waist, hugging him tightly.

paul pressed one final kiss to the crown of your head before he was reaching down to grab the sonogram from the table again, "we should send this to billy and old quil, right?" he asked as he grabbed his phone, smiling when you nodded and giggled.

"do you wanna send it? you can totally send it-" he started, quickly realizing you might want to be the one to show everyone the sonogram picture but you were quick to shut down his worries by pressing a quick kiss to his bicep.

"you can send it," you reassured, smiling up at him as he nodded, quickly snapping a picture of your sonogram before he was texting it to old quil (who you were, quite frankly, surprised he knew how to text at all) and billy.

"you two are the cutest," emily mused as she got out of sam's arms to step over to the fridge so she could figure out what to make for dinner, "did you sign up for those birthing classes i sent over to you?" she asked, pulling out some chicken and flour, looking like she was going to be making breaded chicken or something similar for dinner.

you nodded, "just figured it out last night actually," you giggled, "you saved us so much time with that," you added, smiling gratefully over at emily who nodded, smiling back at you.

"they start next wednesday," paul added and sam nodded, both him and emily happy to know the two of you used their recommendation for the birthing class they had used.

"you're gonna love it y/n, they're so helpful and can definitely answer more of your questions than i can," emily explained and you let out another laugh as her comment, both of you well aware of just how many questions you'd texted her throughout your pregnancy so far.

you went to respond to her but were cut off when you felt a soft flutter in your belly from your baby, causing you to let out a soft gasp as you ran your hands down to where you just felt the kick, "paul come here," you said even though he was still standing right behind you, quickly taking his hand and pressing it down where the baby just kicked.

"what-" he started, quickly stopping himself when he realized what you were trying to show him when he felt another familiar kick under his hand, "oh princess," paul murmured, "'s not hurting you, right?" he asked softly and you shook your head, leaning back into his chest as paul ran his hands over your belly, loving knowing your baby was able to somewhat interact with him even from in your belly.

"she's kicking?" sam asked, chuckling when paul nodded.

"oh that is so weird-" jared started teasingly, letting out a loud laugh when paul whipped around to glare at him. you giggled, already knowing paul was going to make him regret saying that.