target youre dex's love, and he'll treat you as such, because there is no one else.
words 1.4k
warnings nsfw, smut duh, handjob, fluff if ya squint, size kink, belly bulge, breeding/finishing inside, praise, dom!dex, switch!reader(?), make outs, slightly obsessive dex, overstim, crying, idk this is nasty guys but lmk if i missed anything!
your eyes were slightly fluttering, the tiredness from the day rushing over you. your head dropped gently on dex.. he smelt of sea salt and oak, and a tad of musk. you closed your eyes just momentarily, soaking in the hum of the television and dex’s chilling body temperature.
dex looked down at his body, gazing at your figure. he brought his trembling hand up to your face, stroking a stray hair from your forehead. dex then rested his hand on your cheek, thumb moving in small circles. you were so precious. what did he do to deserve you?
your eyes blinked awake, feeling a large, calloused hand on your cheek. dex stopped his movements for a moment, moving to retract his hand. before he could, though, you set your hand over his. the small, manicured one compared to his rough one.
you removed your hand now, trailing it up dex’s muscular arm to his broad shoulder. “you're so beautiful,” you mumbled out between your sweet lips.
dex hadn’t replied with words, but instead lifted you to sit in his lap. god, he was so big. he was capable of so much, and you weren’t afraid a single bit. your body shifted around, finally settling on his strong thighs. his large arms came around you, hands settling at your lower back. dex peered back up at you with the deepest fucking eyes, looking at you like you were the sweetest girl ever.
“my sweet girl,” he hummed, his grip tightening. it was firm, but not enough to bruise. never enough to bruise. dex would never hurt his girl, and he would never allow her to be hurt.
you pawed at his shirt, begging to get the soft cotton off. “dexy, m’begging you, please.”
“anything for you,” he rasped out, pulling the fitted navy shirt over him. his sculpted body was covered in scars, raised and red. you didn’t care, though. dex earned them. proof he was superhuman.
now, clawing off your own tee, dex pulled you somehow closer. you were wearing the bra he liked. navy, fabric smooth like butter, and cupped your chest perfectly. it was his favorite because it wasn’t like the others that dug into your skin and left marks that you would silently rub before you stepped into the shower.
you snaked your arms around dex, his eyes locked onto you like a target. his eyes were now rimmed with hazel and filled with a deep void of desire. you peered down at his pink lips, laying a warm kiss. it was short, but sweet. dex loved how soft and pliant you were. you would melt in his hands, like strawberry ice cream on a balmy day.
dex wasn’t much different. anytime you would cuddle, ass plush against him, he too would melt. anything you would do had him chasing the high over and over again.
he now chased your lips, pressing back against your smooth ones. they tasted like your banana cream lip gloss and whipped cream. he licked them once before he went in again, tasting all of you. you giggled at his sweet action, a hand snaking to his sandy blonde tufts. you gripped it gently, bringing it towards you. he hummed in satisfaction, the slightest sting of pain thrilling him. “fuck.”
you ran a hand down his chest, down to his abdomen. your pointer finger drew hearts over his abs as you looked back up at him. “can i, baby?” you asked, eyelashes batting. you shifted your hips right over his growing bulge, a wet patch already forming in his grey sweatpants.
he nodded, “yes, f-fuck, love.” your gaze never broke, because that was the real intimate part. dex never took you fully from behind, unless there was a mirror in front of you two, or if he held you against him. he loved looking at your fucked-out face as you took all of him.
your finger trailed down, right above his length. you let it linger there, licking your lips. his hands engulfed your ass as you pulled at the band, letting it snap against his waist. his hips twitched at the action, restraining from bucking up into you.
you pulled him out and cupped your warm hand around him. you could hear dex’s breath hitch, the airflow becoming heavier. after a few jerks, you swiped over the tip, a bead of his sweetness sticking to your thumb. dex whined out, mouth agape. you drew forward, taking advantage of the opening. you kissed the side of his mouth, your spit drowning his shaved skin. he tilted his head to the side to take control of your mouth now, his tongue immediately invading it.
you pulled your underwear to the side, already wet, waiting for him. every time you and dex made love, he knew at this point it was his turn to take the reins. dex dragged his hands up and down your thighs, feeling the soft skin. you hovered over him, not wanting to sink down until he gave the green light, even though you knew you always had it. when it came to dex, anything was plausible.
“my girl needs me now, hm? need me to fuck her good?” he asked with a smooth tone, cupping the curve of your waist.
you nodded with teary eyes, the ache in your cunt worsening by the second. a tear slipped, and dex wiped it away with his thumb, licking the wet streak. the salty trickle now replaced by his damped love that you would go to war for.
dex brought you down slowly, easing into you. no matter how many times you had taken him, it was still far too much. maybe he needed to mold you more, he thought.
you whined pathetically, hands planted right on dex’s chest. he threw his head back in ecstasy, never getting tired of your gummy walls. “move please, please, dex, i need you,” you begged.
he brought you back up before slamming down. a moan etched from you, the noise coming straight from the back of your throat. dex winced with pleasure, getting his fix. he brought his lips to your artery, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the pressure point.
once he saw you catch your breath, he continued his movements, pulling your body back up and down with no effort whatsoever. he’s throbbing inside, tip kissing that sweet spongey spot inside you. you're babbling now, whispering sweet nothings against him. dex glanced at your tummy and the slight bulge in it. he was obsessed with the fact that he could see himself leaving and entering you.
dex closes his eyes, replaying the image over and over. his lips trailed down to your chest, licking and nipping gently at the smooth skin. dex was so proud whenever you took him, falling apart so easily. the fact that you let him every single time, treating him like he hung the moon.
“i-i’m gonna cum, dexy..” you whimpered against his lips, closing your eyes. the tightness in your tummy was ready to snap. “i know, babygirl, let it out,” he moaned back, his jaw unlocked.
you tightened around him, listening to dex’s instructions. you would never disobey him. you were so loyal, like a dog.
“not much longer, baby,” you cried out, eyes tearing up once more. “now, c’mon, sweet girl,” he grunted.
you threw your head back, letting go. you saw stars transform into white, chest heaving.
dex wasn’t far behind, bucking up and his pace increasing. though, he was getting messy. he pushed your hair back before bringing your face back to his. dex smothered you in spit-soaked lips as you were still coming down from your high.
“yeah, that’s it, baby. take fucking all of it,” he groaned. and you did. like his good fucking girl.
you could feel dex’s movements faltering as he gripped harder. “fuck, all mine. where, sweetheart?”
his hand trailed up to your throat, wrapping around it like he could cut off your airway at any given moment. “inside, dex,” a mewl comes from you. “inside me, please!”
dex sobbed at your words, thrusting fully into you. you both came instantaneously. he was still fucking up into you, his cum filling you to the brim. the creamy ring around him made you drool buckets. you whined at dex, laying a lasting sloppy kiss on him. “i love you, dex,” you mumbled.
“i love you too, doll, so fucking much. you’ll never know,” he whispered out, palm back to cradling the back of your head on his chest.
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ 𖣠
a/n: hi i haven't written smut since sept-oct so pls dont judge, i also wrote this within like 2 hours so sorry if its rushed </3 this was also inspired by @poindextergirl bc their work is actually goated it made me pause my writing for "operation 481" LOLLL
➤ main masterlist (1st part of a series, but can be read as a standalone even though there isn't much peter parker mentioned)
𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐 yn stark is quite the nepo baby. a party or two never hurt anyone, especially her. when she notices a boy from school at the club, her boldness only intensifies. only starks have that noticeable snarky remark.
𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ~3k
𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 in this au, the fantastic 4 are still superheroes but still a normal family, valeria is same age as reader, franklin is around five years older, kate bishop is also same age as reader, the main 3 are all nepo babies and disgustingly rich, tony is single, reader doesn't have a mother, reader lives in the tower with the rest of the avengers, underage drinking mentioned, lmk if i should add anything to clarify!
The lounge in the tower smelled of fresh linen and strawberry frosting (definitely from Pop-Tarts), because God forbid Thor eat anything else. I was sprawled across the leather couch as if I owned the place, which I technically did, legs stretched up on the glass coffee table, scrolling through my feed.
The thick steps of leather dress shoes against marble broke through my haze. Then, I heard fabric, a tie specifically, being adjusted for the third time.
“Are you planning to lie there all evening?” A voice came through.
For a second, I didn’t even look up. I rolled my eyes and shut off my phone, placing it on top of a plush pillow. I pushed myself up from my comfortable position and dragged my feet to my father’s side.
“Where are you going, looking like that?” I eyed his suit, pressed to near perfection.
”I didn’t tell you? Swore I did.”
”No, you did not.” I flatly said, crossing my arms. “Definitely did not.”
Dad smoothed his blazer and offered his arm to pull me in a hug. I faceplanted into his breast pocket, squishing my cheek against it. I took in the familiar clean scent. It was somehow expensive, but just him.
“I’m going out on a date,” he proudly announced.
I pulled back and lifted my face to give him a puzzled look. “With who?”
“You’ll know soon.”
“Ah, secretive as always.” I stepped back to look over him again. “Well, I’d suggest putting on some cologne if you wish for her to stay for dessert.”
“And that,” he said, pointing at me as he started to walk towards his room, “is exactly why I came to you, my smartest daughter.”
I rolled my eyes at his corny joke. “Only daughter,” I corrected.
I turned my heel and headed towards his room. The lights were extra bright today for some reason (or the fact that I was still mildly hungover from last night).
“Dad, kill the lights, would you?” I rubbed my eyes with my forearm.
He stopped in his tracks mid-step and turned around, facepalm as clear as day. He flipped a couple of switches, the bulbs now dimming. “Of course. Can’t have my princess going blind, can I?”
I chuckled at his facetious remark before following him once more. “Nope, I’m already expensive enough to maintain.”
“I was thinking Dior, but I wear it too often.” He mumbled, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Yeah, but that attracts more men than women, Dad.”
Dad gave me a stifled laugh as I reached for a bottle in the back of the rack. “How about Viktor & Rolf?”
I gave a spritz on my wrist and wafted it towards me. My sense of smell was analyzing it carefully before I ordered, “Hold still.”
“You’re quite bossy today.”
“And you’d be lost without me.”
No snarky remark came from him this time, because he knew it was true.
“You’re all ready. I will be very disappointed if I see you again tonight.” I smirked to myself.
“Now, why’s that?”
“Because that means she didn’t like you enough.”
Before Dad could respond, I was already halfway through the door.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
“And you’re sure you’ll be alright? No need for a nanny?”
I was back in the same position I was before I was called for my olfactory sense. “I have five nannies right here in this tower. Go. Get turnt.”
He approached me on the couch anyway and kissed me on my forehead before saying, “Dinner is in the fridge, or ask Clint. Or order some crazy takeout. See you, honey.”
“Bye, Dad.”
As I heard the elevator ding, I nearly flew to my room. I shut the door gently and clicked the lock shut before calling my two best friends, Kate and Valeria.
“Y/n! Is your dad around?” Kate asked, curling her thick hair.
“No, actually, he just left for a date,” I said, pulling out my drawers filled with makeup. “Are you guys ready?”
“Yep, almost!” Val said. “Hold on, your dad is getting back out there?”
“I guess so?” I shrugged, setting my phone down before beginning to blend. “Took him long enough.”
“You're not mad?” Kate asked, a brow raised.
“Not really,” I had honestly said. “He had to move on eventually; it’s been almost 18 years.”
My mother was never present, mainly because my dad didn’t allow it. He said she wasn’t ready for a child, not even mentioning a healthy family. He chose me, though, and I thank him for it silently every day.
“I get it. Are you changing right now? Both Kate and I are nearly ready.”
“Yeah. What are you guys wearing?”
“Mini skirt and a tank,” Val said, bronzing her face one last time.
“The dress from the boutique we went to last time.”
“Alright, I’ll be dressed in 10. Meet you guys at the bodega.”
“Bye!” They both squealed.
I quickly slipped into the tiniest miniskirt I bought when I was with Nat and into a top that Val gifted me a couple of months ago before zipping up my knee-high boots.
I opened the door as quietly as I possibly could, peaking out to see if any of the Avengers were sneaking around.
Sneaking out of the tower wasn’t that hard, but it definitely was a pain in the arse.
Once I saw it was clear, I sneaked to the elevator, pressing the bottom floor. When I arrived at the bottom, I went to the back door and slipped out. I’m sure all of Dad’s employees were home by now.
I walked with haste to the bodega two blocks down from the tower, the usual spot where I met up with the girls.
I turned the corner and saw two familiar figures, dressed appropriately for the club.
I ran up to them and gave them a tight hug, happy to see them without the sick school air.
“You both look hot!” I complimented, smiling at the two.
“Look at you! Come on,” Kate said.
As we got in line for the club, it moved progressively. The bouncer let us in almost immediately, too worried about stopping the two guys behind us who were not ready to call it a night just yet.
We already felt the bass in our hearts and stomachs, bumping just as heavy as the A-listers and nepo babies were on something else.
“Drinks are on me,” I said, pulling out my phone immediately. “Daddy transferred money into my account yesterday.”
“I love your dad,” Kate thanked.
“Thanks, love!” Val said, already beaming.
“I know. Everyone does.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
After a couple of drinks, lots of dancing, and a couple of guys hitting on us, we decided it was time to take some photos on Kate’s digital camera.
“The balcony is outside,” Kate said. “I’ll ask someone to take some of all three of us.”
As we walked, or more so stumbled, to the balcony, the music got a bit softer. The crisp air of New York gave a slight chill to my smooth legs and volume to my hair.
Kate, Val, and I looked amongst the people around the balcony. Most were older adults, people too incapacitated to even hold the camera, or who wouldn’t even look twice at us.
However, I saw two boys who looked our age. One had tan skin and a dorky middle part. The other was a pasty brunette, who sorta looked familiar. They were both sitting at one of the few tables on the balcony.
As Val and Kate were still looking around, I tapped them both, giving a nod in the direction of the two boys.
“Don’t they go to our school?”
“How’d they get in here without fakes?” Val genuinely asked, her lip quirked in confusion.
“Not a clue, but I’m gonna ask.”
I propped myself off the railing and made my way to the two; both looked very deep in whatever they were conversing about.
The one with the awful haircut looked up at me first, in near disbelief that I was in front of him.
“Hi.”
‘H-Hello,” he said. “Hi, Y/n.”
“Hi uh.. Remind me of your name again, please?”
In truth, I did not remember either of their names, and I felt really bad about it, truly. I saw them in the halls sometimes with some people from my math class. However, they just weren’t the usual crowd I hung out with.
“Really?” He sighed. “I’m Ned, and this is Peter.”
I looked at the other boy, and he gave a tight-lipped smile and a short wave.
“Ned, Peter,” I repeated their names. “Would either of you two be a doll and take a photo of my friends and me?”
Ned looked at Peter, then back at me. “Peter got it!” He volunteered his friend.
“What?” Peter squealed.
“Yeah!” he doubled down. Ned turned to me then said, “Peter takes AP Photography, so he’s very good at this stuff.”
Pasty Peter now turned into a warm shade of red from his friend’s boasting. “I’ll try my best.”
“Yay! Thanks, Peter.”
As Peter rose, he shot Ned a grumpy face before he turned it into a smile at me.
He trailed behind me before I told my friends, “This is Peter. Peter, this is Kate and Val,” I pointed to the girls respectively. “He’s in AP Photo, so our photos will be great.”
“We are really overestimating my photography abilities here,” Peter chuckled.
“Just don’t break the camera, yeah?” Kate said as she tossed him the small purple digital.
The girls and I got together and posed as shutters emerge from the tiny thing.
Once he was finished, he went through the history to ensure all wasn't blurry.
Before he could give the camera back, I ran behind him and nudged my head in the crook of his neck to look over his shoulder. “Look good?”
He stiffened up, and I acted as if I didn’t know what I was doing.
“Great. Here you go, Kate.” Peter said as he made his way back to Ned.
Kate grabbed the digital and started examining every pixel with Val, as I told them, “Be right back!”
I caught up with Peter and pulled his arm gently enough to get his attention.
“Hi again!” I gleamed, curious about the boy.
“Hey, did you need more pictures?”
“No, I was actually wondering if you’d dance with me,” I quipped boldly.
“M-Me?” Peter asked in doubt.
“Yes, you. Come on,”
I dragged him back inside to the main deck, the bass and beats pumping back into my system.
I yelled, “Have you drunk anything yet?”
“No, I don’t drink!” He replied nervously.
“Then why are you at a club?”
“Ned dragged me here!”
“Oh well!” I shrugged, dancing to the set.
“Do you know who that is?” I pointed to the DJ booth.
“Uh, no, do you?”
“Yep, that’s Charli. Quite famous, actually. Get a picture of me with her?”
“O-okay!” he yelped as I dragged him towards the elevated booth.
“I don’t have your friend’s camera, though.”
“Use your phone!”
I tapped on the artist’s shoulder before she turned and smiled, already posing for the photo. Once I thanked her, I kept moving to the beat she made on the spot.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
After a bit of dancing and Peter trying to keep up, my body was feeling the impact. I wrapped my arm around Peter’s shoulder, feeling him shiver from my touch. “Hey, can you send me that photo? I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Yeah, just uh.. I don’t have your number.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry! It's..”
As I read the phone number out, I searched around for my friends.
I saw familiar purple and blue couture before I waved my free arm up, signalling them over.
“I’m ready to head out. You guys coming?” I asked, still wrapped around Peter.
“Yep, I’ve already called an Uber,” Val said. “They’ll be here in four.”
“Peter, what about you?”
“Ned and I are fine, just get home safe. Please,” His tone was soft and genuine.
“We’ll be good. See you at school?”
I then held Val’s arm, walking out.
“Yeah, see you at school.” He finally answered.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
When the Uber came, we all quickly hopped in, the cold air biting worse than before.
“Hurry, come on!” Kate tugged me in.
I was giggling from the adrenaline, as was Kate, and Val was already buckled and four seconds away from emptying half the tab on the leather console.
Once the driver saw all three of us in, she started driving us back home.
I was the last to be dropped off, thankful that I saw the other two make it home safe. Hopefully, Franklin let Val in. Kate probably went in through the window.
I thanked the driver before getting out, going in through the same door I came out from. I took the elevator to the main floor before rushing up the stairs, just in case. I saw the package that I left on the counter was still there, so I knew Dad wasn’t home.
I slipped into my room as silently as I could, locking the door and immediately falling backwards on my bed. I felt my clothes clinging to me, bound by sweat. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, tossing it in my hamper to worry about later. Just as I was about to lift my tank off, my phone buzzed.
An unsaved number had sent me an image. Peter, of course.
“Here’s the picture. I think she asked you to send it to her, too.”
“Thanks, Peter! Will do.”
I sent the photo to Charli before heading to the bathroom to finish my nightly routine.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
My blinds were doing a poor job of what they were made to do, the amber sun glossing over my large room. I gave up on trying to get more rest, pushing myself up to get ready for the day.
I grabbed a hoodie from my ottoman and struggled to get it on, my eyes still adjusting to the brightness.
I made my way to the kitchen, still yawning. There sat my Dad, Nat, and Steve.
Nat and Steve looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with me. My father, however, looked straight at me, arms crossed.
“Good morning,” I greeted as I reached for a muffin on the counter.
“Anything to tell me?”
“No, why?” I asked, mouth full of blueberry and brown sugar.
Dad slid me his phone, his eyes still on me.
I hesitantly reached for the phone, still chewing on the warm pastry.
When I fully analyzed the photos and headline, I nearly choked.
───────────────────────
E! News - 7h ago
“Nepo Baby Y/n Stark found at New York City’s biggest bar with friends and DJ Charli XCX - Father Tony Stark is nowhere to be found?”
E! News Last night, Yn Stark, 18, was seen at a club, partying with her fellow A-listers and nepo baby friends. Although pictured with few, some familiar faces like Charli XCX, Kate Bishop, and Valeria Richards were seen with the teen. Many are asking where the girl's billionaire father is.
user0 her dad couldn't rent out the club for her?
user1 shes litch just a girl btw
user2 ok but look at her, val, and kate's outfits
user3 irresponsible, just like their parents!
user4 looks the fantastic 4 4got their kid again lol
user5 charli xcx sneak
user6 why are we acting like they just slaughtered a family of 5 LMFAOO
───────────────────────
“See anything wrong?”
I swallowed, “Yeah! They called me a nepo baby. I have a personality. That should count for something–”
“Y/n. What were you thinking? You got the paparazzi and news thinking I can’t take care of a teenager?”
“Dad, it is not my fault they don’t allow anyone under 21 at bars.”
My dad looked at Steve and Natasha, waiting for them to chime in.
“Well,” Steve started. “It is pretty serious, N/n. You’re lucky you're not in trouble with the law for the drinking.”
I sighed, dropping my attitude a tad. “Okay, fine, maybe I went out.”
Dad only pinched the bridge of his nose harder, “And don’t even bother saving Kate or Valeria. I’ve already notified Reed, Sue, and Eleanor.”
“Dad! Seriously? Why bring them into it?” I whined, more upset that my friends are going down with me.
Nat finally spoke, “You three were being irresponsible.”
“I don’t see the major issue. We didn’t drink and drive, we didn’t go home with any randoms, and we were back before sunrise.”
“You not seeing the larger issue has me a little concerned,” Steve remarked.
“Deeply concerned.” Dad corrected Steve. “You’re grounded, young lady.”
“What would you like me to do now, hm? Because I can’t turn back time. And I know you won’t lock me in this damn tower.” I snapped.
“That’s another week without an allowance. And on top of that, you’re not doing anything for the long weekend.”
“Come on, Tony,” Steve tries to reason. “What’s she going to do for five days?”
“You gotta be a little fair, Stark,” Nat said as she ran her hand through her hair.
“Alright, Alright. I have a better punishment.”
I raised my eyebrows, already imagining what Dad was gonna do. No shopping trips for the month? No Cabo during spring break? Oh no, what about making me help him find a different date?
“You’re coming with me to Japan.”
“Really? Oh my gosh, can we-”
“..For a business convention.”
“I’d rather stay locked in the tower.”
“You can’t be kidding!” Dad laughs out of shock. “You don’t even have to be with me the entire time. It’d be nice to show your face in public with me sometimes, y’know. Make the people know I’m not just the best businessman in the entire world, but also a father,” he shrugged with a smirk.
I groaned dramatically, taking my muffin back to my room, but not without dragging out my groan.
“Better get started packing, young lady!”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
aaa i tried a new formatting! i hope u guys like it heh also again, lmk if u have questions or anything i should rewrite for clarification, i havent watched hawkeye so apologies for anything wrong</3
mission parenthood was never to be considered easy, but bucky somehow (slightly) disproved that tonight with your four kids.
words 2.5k
warnings pure fluff, alpine mentioned!, obv parenting/family dynamics, you and bucky are litch the world's best parents, like two suggestive sentences at the end
you swore you gave up on parties and raves, but right now, your household sounded like one. your living room had the telly on, volume at least at twenty. your son’s action figure’s voice box was exhausting itself. your daughter was playing with her barbies, reenacting a plot she made up. your husband wasn’t even home yet. you shooed alpine off the counter about five times in the past ten minutes.
in the kitchen, you chopped up vegetables for dinner. the pot was already boiling, but there were still two celery sticks to be cut and five carrots to be peeled. you definitely couldn't have asked your kids for help. your two five-year-old twins, grant and becca, were just getting the hang of dull scissors. three-year-old jaime was too focused on drawing circular dinosaurs. winnie, now just barely fourteen months, was still refusing tummy time.
｡ﾟ•┈୨✪୧┈• ｡ﾟ
winnie sat in her high chair at the counter, babbling as she watched you. her binky fell out every twenty minutes or so, making you rinse it with lukewarm water before popping it back in. you had now finished preparing everything. now, when bucky came home, all you had to do was heat the food.
you took winnie out of her high chair, soft little hands feeling your jaw. you put her on the side of your waist as you walked over to the living room. you swore you’ve seen obstacle courses cleaner. toys were everywhere, and you could barely see the white carpet beneath.
“mama, look at my drawing!” jaime squealed as he held up a paper with two green circles and a smiley face.
“look at that!” you smiled. “why don’t you sign it so i can hang it on the fridge?”
“okay, mama,” he laughed, pulling out a blue crayon.
you trekked your way over to grant and becca now, the two divided by a butter-yellow streamer from winnie’s first birthday. bucky swore he got it all.
“now, what's this?” you asked your twins, their backs turned on one another.
“becca’s toys are taking up too much space,” grant whined.
“grant won't stop playing optimus prime’s voice,” she spat.
you raised an eyebrow, kneeling to the two. winnie still held onto you like a koala as you pushed the binky back in, sensing it was about to fall out.
“granton, rebecca, turn around,” your voice now a bit more stern.
everyone in your household knew that full names were intended to be taken as seriously as possible. the two spun around now, staring into their laps.
“look up at mama,” you instructed, tone a tad softer. “is that why you put the yellow streamer there?”
becca nodded. you assumed she put it there in the first place, because she always took charge of her brother, being born ten minutes before grant (which you regret telling her three months ago).
“well, how about you both clean up your toys, and then we can figure out a solution tomorrow, hm? mommy is a bit tired, so she can’t help too much.”
the twins stood up now, silently picking up the figurines and placing them in their respective boxes. “you too, jaime. can you put your crayons and paper back inside the mudroom?”
“yes, mommy,” he said, pushing his chair in.
you sighed out of relief, thankful that there was no fuss or plastic bits shoved up someone’s nose.
you sat on the couch and immediately muted the television, fed up with some talking dog. you threw your head back on the pillow that was against the armrest, closing your eyes. you already felt winnie drifting off, instinctively pulling out the binky and putting it on the coaster behind you. little footsteps were heard approaching, and you opened one eye. grant, becca, and jaime stood in front of you like a firing squad.
their eyes were drooping, and their heads tilted downwards. your lips tugged into a small smile, and you lifted your arm, signalling them to come cuddle. the three climbed on the couch, getting as close as they could. grant came to the side of your arm. becca’s head rested on your thigh. jaime face flat on your shoulder. you pulled the throw blanket into an awkward shape, ensuring all three got some sort of warmth. it was rare to get a moment with all four kids, especially now, since they were all quite different in age, and you were as busy as ever.
you stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the little snores and purrs before you drifted away as well.
｡ﾟ•┈୨✪୧┈• ｡ﾟ
as you and the kids were asleep, bucky had made it home. congress was back in session, so he stayed later than usual some days. the garage hummed shut, and the door unlocked gently. he heard the house being suspiciously quiet, which was rarely ever a good thing, until he heard a crowd of murmurs and huffs. he slipped off his dress shoes and set them on the rack before making his way to the living room.
bucky stopped in his steps, fawning over the sight. his four small children, all asleep on their mother’s body, like a litter of kittens. he snapped out of thought when he felt a bushy tail around his ankle, and looked down to find a pair of blue eyes.
alpine purred, obviously joyed to see bucky after a long day of sleeping on her cat tree and stealing pieces of chicken from the chopping board.
bucky pulled out his phone and took a photo quickly, saving the image to gaze at later when it was his lockscreen. he took a seat beside you five (now six that alpine decided to join), pulling up the blanket that was slipping on becca’s side.
you could’ve assumed that she had senses just as good as her super-soldier father’s, because she woke up just as bucky’s hand brushed over her scalp. her eyes fluttered awake, eyes icy blue. her little pink lips curved into a grin immediately. “daddy!”
he smiled, “hey, princess.” his arms opened up to catch her. his tone was a bit hushed, trying to let you and the rest sleep. “you took a good nap, didn’t you?” he asked, noticing the stray raven wisps of hair. “mhm! mommy wasn’t very happy earlier, so she lay down, and then we all did, and then we took a catnap.”
“oh, i see,” bucky soothed. he knew you were fine this morning, and you were home with jaime and winnie until you picked up the twins from daycare. he wondered what had happened in between it all.
his eyes then wandered to grant, now awake because of his sister’s rambling. “mornin’ bud.”
“hi, daddy,” he yawned. grant now came over and took his usual seat right next to his older sister. “look how clean the floor is?”
“mommy made you do that?”
“no.”
bucky gave a quirked brow.
“maybe.”
bucky hummed at his son’s attempt to cover up his and his sister’s messiness. “good job anyway, you two. i think mommy’s awake now,” he said.
the twins turned around to look at you, but your eyes were still closed. “but mommy’s eyes aren't open,” becca said.
“act’s up, babe.”
your straight lips now curved upwards, smiling at your own defeat. bucky could read you like a book. you now opened your eyes, but not moving your body to disturb winnie or jaime.
your hand came up to cradle winnie’s head as the other reached out for bucky, grasping his hand. “hi, baby. how was work?”
bucky brought your hand up to kiss it, mumbling “good” against it.
“dinner’s ready. just gotta heat up.”
“thank you, my love. can’t believe jaime is still asleep.”
“deep sleeper, isn’t he?” you replied, taking your hand to brush through his dark curls. your shoulder was moist from his saliva, his habit as an open-mouth sleeper remaining consistent.
winnie now cooed awake, gripping your shirt. she blew a raspberry against the skin of your chest, signalling she wanted up.
bucky took winnie from your chest, now lifting her in the air, earning a giggle. when she leveled with bucky’s face, she put one hand on his mouth, the other on his forehead.
you turned your head and gently blew on jaime, a method you learned to wake him without spooking him. he groaned awake, mumbling something that sounded like, “mama” and “five more.”
“come on, bud, time to eat,” bucky patted the boy on his back. he rolled over and sat straight up suddenly, giving bucky a slight jump. erratic little fellow, you both thought.
｡ﾟ•┈୨✪୧┈• ｡ﾟ
you finished washing the dishes with bucky as the kids cleared the table (with a little help). winnie’s high chair had sauce somehow on the back of it, but the crisis was averted when bucky came in with the lysol wipes.
“okay, everyone, it’s bathtime,” you said as you finished the last dish. you threw a towel at bucky with a laugh, knowing what was coming next. you then heard the unmistakable, collective whine.
“mama, please!” “noooo..” “i no wanna,” echoed throughout the kitchen.
you sighed, leaning against the counter.
bucky stepped in, “mommy already reminded you guys once today to tidy up your toys. don’t make her remind you guys you have to clean up again, hm?”
the kids became silent, not wanting a stern talking-to for the second time today.
“daddy’s turn for bath time today. boys, you’re up first.”
you hadn’t expected bucky to step in, because normally you planned for things like this. but tonight, you appreciated his initiative.
bucky came around the counter to you and whispered in your ear, “go take a hot bath. i got it for tonight.”
“are you sure, buck?” you asked, running your hand through his hair. “it’s really okay,” your tone is quiet.
“let me. you’ve had enough for today,” bucky assured.
you gave a tight smile, “okay, yeah. thank you, baby.”
“no worries, doll,” he said as he kissed you. “alright, guys, mommy is going to bed, so say goodnight now, okay?”
you kneeled to jaime and pressed a kiss on his cheek, then becca, then grant. the three gave you a tight hug, pressing the wet spot on your shoulder that still hasn’t dried yet closer to your skin.
“goodnight, you three. mommy loves you so so much,” you cooed.
｡ﾟ•┈୨✪୧┈• ｡ﾟ
bucky was currently struggling as his two sons were splashing bubbles on one another, catching him in the crossfire. either bucky’s hearing improved, or the rubber duckies were especially squeaky today. bucky’s suit was now covered in green candy apple-scented soap and captain america shampoo.
grant and jaime’s waves were now stiff mohawks and had bubble beards. bucky sighed, promising he would read a bedtime story if they let him finish washing them up.
“daddy, why is your hair always so shiny?” jaime asked.
“because daddy combs it more than we do,” grant giggles.
“hey now,” bucky jokingly warns. “it’s because daddy gels it over for work.”
“can we gel our hair one day?”
“i don’t see why not.”
two lotioned and freshly clothed boys now sat on the bathroom counter, still as a tree getting their hair blow-dried.
luckily for him, the girls were much easier. becca told bucky about her day at school and how she spotted a bunny and chased after it, wanting to give alpine a friend. after bucky explained how rodents and cats weren't the best of friends, she said she wouldn’t chase after a bunny again.
winnie was cooing per usual, all giggly to see her dad. bucky always had a soft spot for his kids, especially when they were winnie’s age. he remembers the day she left the hospital and how her entire hand didn’t even cover his pinky finger.
he held winnie in one arm, the hoodie of her frog towel shielding her against bucky’s damp suit. he massaged the last bit of curl cream into becca’s hair, the waves already appearing.
“your hair is getting longer every day, bug,” bucky says, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings.
when becca was two, your family was still living in new york. on the rooftop of your penthouse apartment, there was a little garden where you planted fruits and vegetables. becca would dig in the dirt as an attempt to help “nourish the soil,” as bucky excused, and pulled out the worms.
after a lesson on the importance of the worms, becca caught more and more bugs. worms led to praying mantises, mantises then led to caterpillars. on her third birthday, you and bucky gifted her a monarch butterfly rearing kit. after a couple of weeks of nurturing them, she let them loose, waving bye-bye and giving kisses. the milkweed was immediately removed from your garden upon your instruction.
“really? i want it to be long like aunt ava’s,” she curiously asked.
“if you wait a bit longer, it will,” he replied, squishing the gel before plugging in the diffuser.
winnie smelled of baby powder and vanilla oats, the same as she did when the nurses first cleaned her up. becca preferred her strawberry milk body wash because it smelled like mommy’s danishes.
the boys were sitting on the ottoman outside your and buckys' room, playing with a wooden puzzle.
“ready for bed, you two?” bucky asked as he carried winnie on his shoulders, and becca held onto his hand. she rubbed her eyes, sleep coming to take her again.
“mhm!” the boys said, setting the wooden puzzle on the shelf behind them.
bucky’s usual bedtime routine consisted of, first, getting the kids showered, then tucking them in, from youngest to oldest, showering himself, then spending time with you, in whatever way you both wished.
it was no different from tonight. after three ‘goodnight daddy, i love you daddy' and one “dada” with coos, he showered and slipped into a navy tee and grey sweats. you turned to your side, resting your chin on your hand as he emerged from the bathroom.
“how was that?” you grinned, petting alpine.
“good, actually. we are running out of becca's curl cream, so i'll run by and grab that tomorrow on the way home,” he said, reaching down to kiss you before heading to the nightstand.
bucky took his pills and a sip of water before settling in bed next to you. “i love you so much, you know that? if you asked me twenty years ago where i would be now, i couldn't imagine this.”
“mm, i love you too, baby. but why the sudden pouring out?” you giggled , still appreciative of his words.
“the kids are so young, and i know i’m gonna miss this when they grow up. one day, jaime will hate combovers instead of wishing for one. becca and jaime will be the snarkiest twins at school. god, i can’t even imagine winnie getting any cuter.”
you brought your hand to his face and pulled him in for a kiss, melting at how he was looking into the future.
“i wouldn’t trade it for the world,” you whispered, pulling yourself on top of bucky.
he chuckled, his hands coming up to your sides. “neither would i.”
alpine meowed loudly before exiting through the kitty door.
｡ﾟ•┈୨✪୧┈• ｡ﾟ
a/n: this was sooo fun to write lol i hc bucky and his wife having a big ahh family and obv he's obsessed with them
It was mid-October, and somehow it was hotter than ever. My family and the Piastris had decided to spend the holiday in Hawaii, which was perfect — until I remembered I’d have to go back to Melbourne in December and face the brutal summer heat.
“Oscar! Can you grab this suitcase?”
I kicked one of my bags down the stairs and grinned at the satisfying thud it made at the bottom. Only three more to go.
I heard footsteps approaching and glanced up from where I was cramming the last of my things into a duffel bag.
“Hi, Oscar.” I smiled warmly as he appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“I have three more to pack and then I’m done! Are you proud of me?”
He chuckled softly. “So proud. Packing last-minute still isn’t the smartest, though.”
“I was busy!” I huffed, crossing my arms.
“Promise me you’ll do it at least four days prior next time,” he sighed, picking up my largest suitcase like it weighed nothing.
“Fine, I promise,” I said, dramatically defeated.
When I zipped my duffel bag and kicked it down the stairs to join the others, Oscar had already taken half my things to the car. The man deserved a medal.
When I finally came downstairs, the whole Piastri clan was gathered in the kitchen, along with my mom.
“Good morning, Y/N!” they chimed together.
“Morning!” I said, a little breathless from running around. I grabbed a peach from the fruit bowl, offering a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just finished packing.”
“No worries,” Nicole said kindly. “The boys are loading up the car now. We’ll start putting our things in once they’re ready.”
I nodded and ran back upstairs to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. At this point, the guest room felt like my own second bedroom, I stayed over so often.
Oscar was perched at the vanity chair, waiting for me.
“I put all your other bags in my car,” he said casually.
I gestured at the peach to ask if he wanted some, but he shook his head.
“You’re the best,” I said gratefully. I took a big bite of the peach, and nectar trickled down my chin. It was so sweet and ripe that I couldn’t help but lap at my fingers. When I looked up, Oscar’s gaze was fixed on me — quiet, unreadable.
“You sure you don’t want any?” I asked, half-teasing.
“I’m good,” he murmured, looking away and rummaging through his own bag.
I nodded before finishing the peach and tossing the pit in my garbage can. I checked my drawers to see if I missed any hair products or makeup essentials.
“Ah! My lip gloss.” It was my favourite one, “Georgia Peach”. It smelled and tasted like summer, yet it was toasty and cinnamon-y like fall. I slid the tube in the pocket of my yoga pants and headed back downstairs.
⛐༄
Thirty minutes later, we were at the airport, luggage checked, boarding passes in hand. The usual chaos of travel blurred together until we finally boarded the plane.
I yawned, exhaustion hitting me after barely sleeping last night from excitement. Oscar was already dozing off, head tilted against the window. I hesitated before resting my head against his shoulder, waiting to see if he’d move away.
Instead, he shifted slightly and wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me closer without a word. My chest warmed at the small gesture.
He didn’t need to say anything, he didn't have to. I shut my eyes and let myself drift.
⛐༄
When we arrived in Maui, I was buzzing with energy again. Oscar stretched his arms overhead, his sweater riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned skin and the sharp cut of his V-line.
When we arrived at the Hotel in Maui, I was fully energised. Oscar stretched his arms up, his sweater and shirt slightly lifting. My eyes wandered to the small display of skin, taking in his V-line.
I immediately looked away, cheeks warm.
“They’ll deliver them to our rooms by 5:00,” Nicole said. “We have a couple of hours to kill, let’s go see our rooms! Edie and Hattie, you two are in room 800.” She told them as she handed the girls two key cards.
“And y/n, I roomed you with Oscar just so there would be at least two in each room to lessen the cost. If you’d like, I could get you your own private room.”
“No need, Nicole! I’m sure we can manage a couple of nights.” I nudged Oscar in the arm. He nodded to his mother before she did the same. She gave us our room keys, my hands fidgeting with the plastic. I guess everyone had received their room key already, because there were just the three of us now.
“Alright then, I guess everyone else went to explore the hotel. You two will be alright I presume?”
“Yes ma’am!” I said excitedly before readjusting my purse and taking Oscar's arm. “I hope our room is pretty. And you don’t mind sharing with me right?”
“Not at all. We’ve practically done the same thing since we were young.” Oscar reassured.
We continued to walk until we found the numbers that were identical to the keycard.
Oscar tapped his on the door and it unlocked. The room itself was stunning — a king-sized bed in the middle, a small kitchen, and plenty of space.
“Pretty, right?” Oscar asked.
“For sure,” I said, tossing my bag onto the counter before face-planting into the bed. “I just wanna relax.”
Oscar laughed softly, smoothing down my hair. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.
“Jet lagged already?” He laughed, coming over to me.
“No,” I muffled, my face still smushing the sheets. I turned my head to the side to see him towering over me. “Just wanna relax.”
Oscar smoothed down my hair and I closed my eyes. It felt so good, but I didn’t know why. Is it because it was a comforting feeling, or was it because it was Oscar?
“There’s a pool out back,” Oscar stated.
“You go without me..” I groaned, enjoying the plush bed.
“If I have to, I’ll carry you and throw you in,” he teased, pulling off his hoodie in one quick motion.
My eyes flickered to his torso before I could stop myself. He caught me staring, smirking.
“You’re gonna jump in with sweats?” I teased.
“If you want to see me in my briefs, just say that.” He laughed harder.
I stayed quiet, which made his grin widen. He dragged me down the bed by my ankles until I was laughing and agreeing to go. Oscar’s large hands on my hips gave me butterflies.
“Okay, okay! Fine!” I finally gave in.
I removed my clothes, but kept on my tee underneath my hoodie.
As we walked to the pool in the back of the space, I said, “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” In a dreaded tone.
“We’re only here for so long, so we have to make the most of it.” He meant it in full seriousness.
“You’re right.,” I replied. “My hair is going to smell disgusting after.”
“I’ll get you an ice lolly for your inconvenience.”
⛐༄
The days that followed were perfect. Beach mornings, fancy dinners, long excursions — and an awful lot of shirtless Oscar.
I knew we were on a tropical island, but I genuinely don't think I saw him with a shirt besides dinner with our families, or when we could go out on the mainland.
I wasn’t complaining. Somewhere along the years, the boy I’d grown up with had turned into someone else entirely — tall, confident, ridiculously fit. But deep down, he was still that little awkward boy with the chubbiest cheeks.
By our last dinner, I felt the heavy dread of leaving paradise. I pushed food around my plate until Oscar nudged my foot under the table.
I poked at my food and stared at the napkin in my lap while conversations were exchanged back and forth.
Oscar nudged my foot, and I perked my head up.
“Not hungry?”
I shook my head with a faint frown.
“Neither do I,” he admitted. His lips quirked into a half-smile before falling again. “But what else are we gonna do all summer?”
I sighed, sinking further into my chair. “I don’t even know. We’re gonna be bored forever.”
I was about to retreat back into silence when the sound of my name made me glance up. Mrs Piastri’s warm eyes were on me.
“Y/N, honey, did you want to stay longer?”
I tilted my head, caught off guard. “I’d love to, but paradise has to end eventually. Everyone else has matters to attend to.”
“All but you two,” Hattie chimed in, smirking between her brother and me.
My mother leaned forward with a knowing smile. “I think you guys should stay a little longer. You’ve got the whole summer ahead of you, why not make the most of it? Another week or two would do you both some good.”
“We do deserve it. It’s been a long year,” Oscar added, his tone playful but edged with sincerity.
My lips pressed into a bashful, tight line. I didn’t trust myself to say yes, but I didn’t want to say no either.
“Your mother and I will cover the costs, don’t worry,” Mrs Piastri said warmly.
“It’s settled then!” My mom grinned at us, happy that her daughter and son from another were going to have the time of their life.
Edie rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Next summer, I strongly encourage you two to get jobs.”
Oscar and I both scoffed at the same time, exchanging a quick look that made us stifle laughter.
⛐༄
As dinner concluded, we said our goodbyes just in case we didn’t catch everyone in the morning. The goodnights lingered with that vacation softness. It was cheerful, but heavy with the unspoken knowledge that time was slipping away.
Oscar and I headed back to our rooms to unwind for the night. It was still fairly early, but just late enough to relax.
“I’m going to the gym for a bit,” Oscar said, tugging a compression shirt over his head. “If you need anything, call me.”
“Okay!” I replied, my eyes glued to the reality show I was watching.
Forty-five minutes, countless bleeps, and one too many fake tears later, boredom set in. I clicked the TV off with a sigh and decided a shower would wash off the restlessness clinging to me.
I turned on the faucet and the hot water sprang on me, warming up my skin. The glass shower along with the rest of the bathroom fogged up, the steam misting around.
I thought I heard the door open, but it was common to hear things when you were in the shower, so I ignored it.
I took my time with my routine, massaging creams into my skin, smoothing oils along the edges of my collarbones and arms, savouring the ritual.
Reaching for my pyjamas, I frowned. The shelf where I’d left them was bare.
I could’ve sworn I put them there.
“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath, wrapping the towel tighter around myself.
No matter. I’d just grab them from the bedroom.
I pushed the sliding door aside and went face-to-face with Oscar sitting on the bed.
We both yelped at the same time, voices overlapping in shock. My cheeks burned as heat rushed to my face.
Oscar winced and clamped his eyes shut, throwing a hand up as if to block out the sight. I panicked, sliding the door shut again in one quick motion, pressing my back against it like it might shield me from embarrassment.
For a solid thirty seconds, neither of us moved. My heart raced in my chest, and I debated never stepping out again. Finally, I cracked the door open, peeking out just enough to see if his eyes were still closed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here!” I wanted to dig a hole, get in it, and never come out.
“I’m sorry too,” Oscar said quickly, voice tight. “I didn’t know you’d be… undressed.”
“Could you maybe keep your eyes shut or grab my pyjamas for me?”
“Will you keep hiding behind the door if I do?” he countered, his tone a mix of nervousness and teasing.
“Yes.”
I closed the door and heard the bed creak slightly, and I assumed Oscar was going to the closet to find me a pair of pyjamas.
“You’ve got no pyjamas in here, N/N,” he called.
“Shit,” I muttered, groaning softly. “I forgot to drop off the laundry. This is not my day.”
He hesitated before offering, “Do you want one of my shirts instead?”
“Yes… please. And a pair of underwear,” I added sheepishly.
He didn’t reply, but the silence was answer enough. I imagined him rummaging through his suitcase. Moments later, his footsteps padded back to the door.
I cracked it open just enough to reach out, taking the clothes from him with a shy, crooked smile. Our fingers brushed, quick and fleeting, before I shut the door again.
The shirt he’d given me was from a little league he used to play for, worn thin and soft with age. It drowned me for sure. All the love it gathered from the years of him, his sisters, and me wearing it.
I exited the bathroom before sitting on the bed right next to Oscar, both our bodies parallel. We refused to look at each other, before he broke the silence.
“It’s okay,” I reassured, offering a small smile. “We’ve seen each other bare before.”
“Yeah, but that was when we were kids,” he said with a chuckle, easing some of the tension.
His laugh loosened something in me, and I exhaled in relief.
“Did you shower at the gym?” I asked, shifting the topic.
“Yeah. Thought you might go to sleep early, so I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Thanks for considering.” My lips curved faintly. “I can’t believe we’re staying here another week.”
“Neither can I,” he admitted. Then, a pause. “Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”
I perked up, glad he’d asked first. “Of course. We’ve done nearly everything, but… how about some more local shopping?”
“Sounds perfect.”
I turned to Oscar to smile before saying, “I’m going to sleep now, good night Osc.”
“Good night N/N.”
We flicked off the lamps, sinking into the plush blankets. Tonight, there was no pillow barrier. Neither of us had set it up, and neither of us mentioned it.
At first, I lay turned away, eyes shut, but eventually I flipped over, unable to resist sneaking a glance. He was still awake, phone casting a faint glow across his face. When he noticed me scooting closer, his eyes softened, and he locked his screen.
The previous nights, I’d clung to the edge of the mattress, always a breath away from tumbling off. But tonight, I settled in the middle, at ease. My breaths evened out, chest rising and falling gently.
Oscar studied me quietly, a spark flickering in his chest. Other guys might not have recognised the feeling, or worse, denied it — but Oscar knew. He’d always known.
⛐༄
In the morning, the Hawaiian sun had peaked through our curtains, and the golden hues spilt across the room.
My eyes were trying hard to open, and my body felt warmer. They fully fluttered open, and I saw an arm snug around my waist.
Oscar had been spooning me. My body froze up and I tried my absolute best to not move. I turned my neck to look behind me, and the boy was still lying there.
Oscar was still asleep, cheeks pink as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. My chest ached at the sight, a tender smile tugging at my lips. Whoever got to love Oscar one day, they’d be impossibly lucky.
I knew moments like this wouldn’t last forever. Especially once girlfriends, real life, and distance got in the way. So I let myself soak in the quiet intimacy, memorising the weight of his arm, the steady rhythm of his breath.
Guess I’d just have to sleep in.
When I woke up again, the clock read 9:30. The bed was empty, Oscar already gone. Relief fluttered through me; at least he wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed.
I stretched, rubbing my eyes as I padded into the kitchen. There he was, plating two dishes, sunlight catching in his curls.
“Good morning,” he greeted, glancing up with that easy smile.
“Morning,” I echoed, voice raspy from sleep.
I perched on a stool at the bar, spinning idly. “Sleep well?” I asked casually, though the question carried weight.
“Uh, yeah,” Oscar replied a little too quickly, his cheeks dusted pink.
“You?”
“Pretty good,” I said, stretching again.
He slid a plate toward me, the aroma of fresh fruit and warm bread filling the air.
“Eat up. We’re going to be out for most of the day, yeah?”
I grinned, the moment lingering between us, warm and unspoken.
⛐༄
We wandered through the lively streets of Maui, the salty ocean air clinging to our skin and filling our lungs. The scent of sea breeze mixed with hints of grilled food from beachside stalls and the distant strum of music drifting from somewhere nearby. I wore a bikini top tucked under a tube top and a pair of worn jean shorts, casual but breezy enough for the island heat.
Beside me, Oscar had on a long-sleeve button-up rolled lazily at the sleeves, paired with relaxed beach shorts. Somehow, our outfits contrasted yet complemented each other, as though we had planned it.
We waved at locals who greeted us with warm smiles, their laughter echoing against painted shop walls and vibrant surfboards that smelled of wax and were stacked on corners. Eventually, we paused in front of a small flower shop, its entrance decorated with garlands of plumerias swaying in the afternoon breeze.
"Can we look here, Osc?" My tone was visibly leaking with excitement.
He nodded at me before opening the door to let me inside, giving me a soft smile. The tang of the salty air outside gave way to the sweetness of the flora.
We greeted the owner before I went to look at the sea of colours formed by the hibiscus. My eyes lingered on everyone until they were set on the white ones with yellow centres. The petals looked smooth and unreal.
Oscar noticed this and without a word, he grabbed it from the display, tucking it behind my ear, the blossom peaking out of my hair. I gave him a little smile before he said, "Looks beautiful."
"The flower or me?" I laughed with a tilted head.
"Why not both?" His playful tone caught me off guard, but we still laughed about it.
We shared a chuckle before a voice chimed in from behind us.
"You two look like the sweetest couple
ever." The elderly woman smiled widely. "Are you two married?"
"Oh no," I quickly denied with red cheeks. We are just friends," I said, my nervous laugh and awkward smile giving my true intentions away.
Oscar remained quiet, but his face didn't waver from the usual demeanour.
"Maybe you should change that." she quipped before walking away, humming a tropical tune.
I shot Oscar a glance, but he only looked back at me with that same steady gaze. With a small shrug, I turned back to the flowers, pretending my heart wasn’t doing flips.
⛐༄
Night fell quickly, draping Maui in velvet shadows and speckled stars. After showers announced by misty steam and the smell of soap, Oscar and I found ourselves in bed once more, each lost in the glow of our phones.
My legs stretched across the cool sheets, my feet propped up, though the room felt colder than usual. The air conditioner hummed low, but the chill bit through even the blankets, stubborn and sharp.
I built up the courage to ask Oscar something.
"Osc, can I sit closer to you? It's freezing in here." I meekly asked.
He turned to his side to look at me in my tank top and boy shorts, saying "Yeah. You should've chosen better pyjamas."
I scoot closer to him, my head resting against his brachia. I could feel his goosebumps now.
"Well, I didn't expect it to be this cold!" I defended.
Oscar lifted up one of his arms to wrap it around my waist, while the other tugged the blanket up over our waists.
I felt my heart stop for a moment. Oscar's arms were built and they comforted me well. I set my phone to the side, resting my eyes for a second before I snapped them back open.
I felt Oscar's hand fidgeting with the dip of my waist before I looked back up at him with questioning eyes.
He turned to return the look giving a questioning face, but none of us dared to speak a word.
Oscar looked too good right now. His hair was slightly tussled, his arms were flexing from holding me, and his lips looked so kissable.
I looked at his lips, then his eyes, then his lips once more. He followed my actions, before I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.
It only lasted a second, but it felt like an eternity. It was delicate and calm. He returned the kiss softly as I brought my palm to his soft cheek.
I pulled away and didn't speak. I couldn't speak.
Silence filled the gap between us, before Oscar said, "I've been waiting almost all of my life for that." His words mustered up enough confidence for him to pull back into a shared kiss. Except this time, it was rougher. Meaner. Hungrier. It was laced with everything we haven't dared to say.
Oscar slid his arm from the side of me and brought me onto his lap. I straddled him instinctively, afraid that I would fall.
But Oscar would never let me fall. Not now, not never.
"Have you ever slept with anyone, Y/N?"
"No," I said, embarrassment leaving my voice.
"Let me be your first."
I nodded with my voice whispering a small, "okay" before we continued our shared kiss.
Oscar took the initiative and slipped a tongue into mine and I took it well. I let him guide me through the foreign act, unsure of how good he was so good. He was so gentle and patient, as if he were waiting to teach me all of this.
As he deepened his kisses, Oscar flipped me on my back, so I was now being towered over by him. He stared at my hair pooling around my figure and my blushed lips.
"You look so beautiful like this," he repeated what he said in the shop, except his tone was now raw and thick.
Oscar came down to my face to kiss my lips as I pulled his body in more by his shoulders.
His tongue sent shivers down my spine as his arms caged me.
When we pulled away, our breaths panted and were ragged, as if we were rushing. However, we had all the time in the world.
His voice was now husky, but steady, saying, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Y/N. Your decision doesn't change my feelings for you." His thumb stroked my cheek.
“I want this Osc, I want you.”
That triggered something in Oscar, because soon after I had said that, he was stripping off his shirt. His sculpted body had a glow from the moon’s light, the shine spilling across the ridges on his abdomen.
This time, my eyes couldn't attempt to escape him. It was now in my direct line of sight and had no sign of going away.
Oscar’s hand brushed through his warm brown locs before leaning over me. The simple but powerful act made my pulse quicken.
“May I?” He asked sweetly, referring to my shorts.
I nodded and lifted my hips a little so he could remove them. He was gentle with his movements, his fleeting touches warmed me.
Oscar soon after removed his shorts and left himself in his briefs.
I tried to calm my breathing. My chest was tight with excitement, yet fear. I always heard tales of my friends and their boyfriends doing things, but now it was my turn. Except for the fact that Oscar was not my boyfriend, of course.
“Are you okay?” He asked as he took one of my hands in his.
“Yes, Oscar,” I replied.
Oscar took the hand he was holding and laid a gentle kiss on top before taking my palm and dragging it down to his chest, eventually reaching his pelvis.
“See what you do to me? See how much I love you?” His words sounded more like a confession rather than just a lust-filled statement.
I blushed at the gesture, not sure what to say. I swallowed thickly before he dropped my hand.
He pulled down his briefs, his cock already leaking. My eyes went straight to it. It felt betraying seeing the boy I grew up with like this, but Oscar was no longer a boy. He was a man. A man who had needs.
I followed suit and removed my panties, leaving me with just my tank top on. No bra and the chill of the room pebbled my tits, and Oscar had no shame looking.
He reached down and started kissing my neck, my arms wrapping around his shoulder blades again. The small pecks trailed down my, until he reached my chest. He pulled down the tank slightly before he attached his mouth.
I could feel all of him against me in that very moment. He wasn’t being gentle anymore. Oscar had a vision, and we had to fulfil it.
When he detached from me, his eyes were low-lidded. He was determined to make me feel everything.
His hips grinded against my core, giving him a small whine he would eat up with a kiss. The friction plus the tension was killing me.
I lifted myself on my elbows as Oscar asked, “You’ll tell me if it’s too much right? I can’t hurt you.”
His words stung with sweetness. I nodded anyway, my lashes fluttering at him.
Oscar bit his cheek as he brought himself near me, inserting himself. We groaned in unison, our octaves different but pitches the same.
I winced and shut my eyes, trying to ease the feeling.
“I know baby, it’ll hurt at first. But I got you, don’t worry.”
My eyes slowly opened as I nodded my head, acknowledging his reassurance.
He slowly rocked his hips, my body jerking up and down the bed a little. I felt full, but so good.
Oscar dipped his head to kiss my forehead, the gentle gesture making me melt.
His eyes wandered to mine, revealing everything his words couldn’t. Boys would look at me, but nobody looked at me like Oscar did. Nobody cared for me like he did.
“I love you N/N,” he breathed out.
“Don’t say things like that,” I replied, still somehow denying his love for me.
Oscar’s hips rolled before I started to moan louder, feeling a strange feeling in my tummy.
I held onto Oscar’s arm, needing a release.
“I know it feels weird, but it’ll feel good soon baby, I promise.” he breathed out as his movements sped up for a moment.
The new speed set me off, the feeling quickened and churned in the pit of my stomach.
He continued rutting into me, eventually going as fast as someone could blink.
I whined louder than I previously had before, earning a “You like that? Doin’ so good f’me.” from the brunette.
It was overwhelming how Oscar and I fit together like a puzzle piece. We had always been closer than ever, but two souls cannot get any closer than this.
Oscar brought a hand to my pearl, circling it gently, but firmly. My legs attempted to clamp together, but a strong hand decided otherwise.
“Not yet. You gotta keep going f’me okay?” He asked as he pressed his lips to my cheek.
My whines got louder as Oscar went faster. I clenched around him tightly, my mouth forming that O shape it’s been going at for the last twenty minutes.
“I can feel you tightening around me, you like it don’t you?”
I nodded quickly, the pressure in my stomach building again. Oscar’s heavy thrusts made his forehead moisten as he lay it on mine. We were now face-to-face, and it was maddening.
Even in the lowlights, I could still tell the exact colour of his eyes. Where each of his beauty marks was. How swollen his lips were thanks to me.
“You feel me around you baby? Feel how good you are to me?”
I nodded before letting out a, “Fuck Oscar, it feels odd.”
“Just a bit longer. You’re doing so well for me.” He pulled his lips to mine, swallowing all my breath and wine.
Oscar spread my thighs wider, letting out whispers of “You're mine,” and “Fuck,”.
I tossed my head to the side as I clawed his back, legs wrapping around his waist.
He buried himself deeper in as my head nudged into the dip of his shoulder. An attempt to hide maybe.
I trembled, knowing I would soon be done for.
“Let go, it’s okay. I got you.”
Our eyes closed in unison as I let out a string of curses while Oscar sang ostinatos of my name.
My vision blurred to white as I felt my core warm. The sticky remnants of him. Oscar groaned loudly, his length still buried to the hilt. I continued to grip him as he collapsed on my chest gently.
After a moment, he flipped me so that I was on top of him, yet to disconnect himself from me. My legs held his waist and my arms hugged him. My cheek was squished against his chest, our bodies' warm temperature colliding with the room’s now hot air.
“I truly do love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. This wasn’t just a one-in-the-moment thing.” He confessed, twirling my hair.
I tsked at his words before saying, “I know Osc. I know,” I exhaled. “I love you too.”
“Love me in every way then.”
Oscar pulled up the blanket to cover my almost-bare self before Oscar again broke the silence, saying, “You don’t have to answer now, but in the morning, we should talk this out.”
By the time Oscar had finished the sentence, I was already snoozing away.
-
In the morning, I was still on top of Oscar. My eyes batted open and I looked up at him. He was awake, rubbing my back gently.
Oscar kissed my forehead gently, his shy self still remained after that break in demeanour last night.
“I’ll be yours,” I said, not even thinking over my actions. I didn’t really have to.
For years we waited for one another. For years we pushed down feelings, afraid to ruin something so good. But now, it was over. We were adults, and we knew what we wanted. Each other.
⛐༄
The week had flown by quickly, and we were already home in Melbourne. I had told Hattie, who soon told Edie, who soon told the entire family of our relationship. Nicole and my mother were shell-shocked, but in a good way.
The two moms had been plotting it forever in secret but never put it off. The vacation had finally made it tip over the edge.
rain pattered against your penthouse’s large window. the dark evening stretched across new york, but was especially particular in the city. your boss at the doj had offered you a rest day after multiple days of overtime, long days extended by excessive document checks and calculations from wire transfers.
you spent the majority of the day getting things done. you cleaned yours and dex’s room, deep-cleaned the washrooms, cleared and rearranged the fridge, and wiped down every surface imaginable. you used the ocean-scented ones rather than the lemon ones, because dex didn’t like the citrusy, tangy scent that lingered.
you then meal-prepped for the week, packing meals in bento containers for you and dex. dinner was already made and kept on the stove for later. a linen-scented candle was the only light emitting in your living room. over you was a white, furry blanket, drowning you in its plushness. snuggled up on the couch, exhausted from your (supposed) rest day.
you texted dex, ‘taking a short nap, miss you. see you when you get home.’ whenever you were doing something that would require you to be away from your phone, you always alerted dex. what if you were going to get hurt? what if nobody there could save you? he knew they couldn’t save you, because they weren’t him. he was your savior, as were you.
dex did not reply, but he stared at the message with delight. delighted that his north star took the time out of her day to notify him of what she was doing. you knew that he had read it the moment you had sent it, so you closed your eyes, lashes wisping like butterflies ending their stage.
⋆｡‧˚ʚ𖣠ɞ˚‧｡⋆
dex had gently unlocked the front door, careful not to wake you. he removed his shoes and set them on the rack, the same space as it always had been. he shed his jacket, hanging it on the rack before padding his way over to you on the couch. soft purrs sounding from a fuzzy flood. he softly sat beside you, taking in your calm figure. your vulnerability and softness are what drove dex up the wall. you were what he could not be. he brought a hand up to stroke your cheek, the roughness stark with the leveled skin.
his eyes wandered to your sternum, where it rose and fell, your breathing steady. he caught up with it, syncing up like a melody and harmony. the matching expiration of breath calmed dex.
dex pushed away your baby hairs that he was sure tickled the edges of your face. he then thumbed over your plush lips, feeling every soft chap between them. he caught your breath, coming to a pause, signifying you were slowly waking up. your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the room that was slightly dimmer now.
dex’s mouth flattened into a small smile, but he was a little upset that he woke you.
“hi dex,” you mumbled.
“hey,” he huffed out. dex looked a little tired, his eyes a little more set than usual. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”
“it’s alright, i slept for quite some time anyway,” you said before you yawned. you sat up now, bringing your arms around dex. you rested your head against his chest, smelling the faint detergent and cologne he applied this morning on him. “how was work?”
“the same. tiring. not as nice as you,” he replied, snaking his arms around your waist. you could hear his heartbeat, the lub dub sound steady.
you chuckled, “well, at least you’re home now. did you have the lunch i made you?”
“yes, angel, thank you. are you hungry?”
you squished your cheek until you essentially melted into him. you huffed out for a moment. shaking your head, you said, “no, not really. jus’ want you.”
dex cradled your head with his large hand, stroking your hair down. “miss me that much?”
”yeah,” you mumbled. “bored without you. i got a lot done though,”
”that’s my girl,” he replies, now lifting you into his lap.
the rain was still drumming against the window, creating white noise amongst your breaths.
dex’s big figure and sculpted arms around you created an ache you just couldn’t soothe. you shifted around his thick lap, trying to ease the warming in the pit of yourself.
a whine erupted from you. after a long day of hearing complaints from stupid fbi agents and the nypd, your sounds were music to dex’s ears.
he was already hard as a rock, and it didn’t help that you were in one of his worn shirts with just panties as well.
“mm, is my girl needing something?” he murmured.
you mumbled back through his chest, “you. need you.”
dex brought your head back from his chest to look at you, pressing a thumb to your plush lips. “you seem tired, love. are you sure you want to? there’s no rush.”
“no, dexy, i'm not tired!” you shook your head.
“okay, okay,” he agreed, hands settling at your side.
a smile appeared on your face as you began to unbutton his collared shirt with quite some force.
“easy, baby, easy,” he chuckled.
“can’t wait, sorry.”
after you neatly folded dex’s top and laid his tie on the coffee table, you repeated the procedure with your (his) shirt.
you giggled, swiping your hands across his wide chest. your tongue grazed your bottom lip, nearly drooling for your boyfriend.
“been waiting for you all day,” you mumbled.
“have you? my patient, patient girl,” dex said, bringing you impossibly closer. you felt the tent in his pants, nudging at your core. dex’s eyes trailed down to your panties. they were white cotton, dotted with pink. they were lined with lace and a little pink bow lodged in the center. they were originally an apology for dex ripping the last pair.
“you wore these on purpose,” dex stated.
“no clue what you’re talking about,” you grinned.
dex pulled you off of him and laid you down on the couch, your hair surrounding you like a halo. you giggled at dex’s manhandling, knowing that you were sleeping well tonight.
you reached up for him, grabbing onto his bicep before pulling him down into a messy kiss. your lips parted almost immediately as dex invaded your mouth with his tongue.
dex removed his trousers and set them aside before pulling himself out of his boxers. he moved his hand down his length a few times, spreading the pre on himself.
you were reaching to pull down your panties, but dex stopped you, eyeing the wet spot.
“keep them on, angel.”
“promise you won’t rip these?” you huffed.
“promise, baby.”
you sighed, dropping your hands back to your side. dex pulled your panties to the side as he slowly eased himself into you.
you whined out, his thickness filling you immediately. dex threw back his head and groaned at your warmth and wetness, holding back on bucking into you. “f-fuck, too much dex.”
“you got it, baby, come on,” he cooed. “‘s okay.”
dex nudged your cervix, making tears prick your eyes. you shut them as they trickled down your face. dex hushed your cries as he started pumping himself in and out of you, kissing your tear-stained face.
you lifted your torso to look down at the wet mess you and dex created, hearing the wet ‘phalps’ fill the room. you giggled, seeing how nasty you two were. your panties weren’t even white anymore, but now see-through.
dex’s pace was now speeding up, drilling into you like he hadn’t seen you in years. your legs closed around dex’s waist, pulling him closer to you.
“mm, dex, don’t stop,” you moaned out.
“would never, princess,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
dex brought his thumb down to your pearl, circling it gently, earning a mewl from you.
“f-fuck, fuck dexy! i’m gonna cum,” your voice strained.
“cum for me, pretty girl, you can do it,” he nearly begged.
your eyes shut closed as you saw white behind them, the familiar rope snapping in your tummy. dex brought his lips down to his throat, nipping at the clammy skin.
dex slowed his pace for a moment, letting you come back to your senses. as a man with strong endurance, he was nowhere near his release.
when you blinked open your eyes, dex’s hand came up to skim your cheek, the wetness now a distant memory.
"you alright, my love?”
your smile is now crooked, still feeling full. “never better. tummy now?”
dex hummed in agreement, flipping you over. you whined as your face squished into the plush throw pillow, arching your back as much as possible.
but, he didn’t enter you again just yet. he slid himself through your panties. you cried out, “dex, stop teasing. stop it.”
he chuckled at the obscene sight, amazed at how dirty you two were. he took one of your arms and put it against your back, providing some leverage for himself.
now, he re-entered you, grunting in ecstasy. he now pressed himself against you, putting almost all his weight on you. you couldn’t run from dex’s hard strokes, but you didn’t want to anyway.
you moaned his name and curses, as dex’s heavy breaths were hot on your shoulder blade.
“that's it, take it.”
you whined back in response, “perv.”
“yeah, honey? wanna tell me how much of a disgusting perv i am?” he asked, still pounding you into the cushions.
dex pushed you more into the pillow, not giving you a chance to reply.
you were so close, and you were dying for the sensation you once had that dex would selflessly deliver every time.
your body fought as you brought it back against dex’s, attempting to help chase your and his high.
the hand behind your back scrambled for a part of dex, any part, just to feel him. he put his strong hand over yours, your frantic rush now eased.
“fuck, doll, i‘m gonna cum.”
you nodded your head, like a dog hearing its favorite words.
dex’s huffs got progressively louder, signalling he was close. his thrusts now stuttered, his other arm now caging you.
you turned your head to the side, and he laid a kiss onto your lips, whispering out ‘i love yous’.
a few moments later, you felt a warm pooling inside you, flooding your panties. dex groaned gutturally louder than he had before.
in barely a second, dex pulled out and flipped you over, continuing to spill on you.
your eyes fluttered open and looked back down at the massacre on your core, and you began to giggle once more.
you threw your forearm over your face, trying to quiet your noises.
dex was now on your side, kissing your temple, asking, “what's funny, angel?”
“look at my bow. it's now drowning in your cum. you said you wouldn’t ruin these.”
“i said i wouldn’t rip them. and, nothing the washer can’t fix.”
a/n: removing some of these im sorry guys </3 I dont wanna rush them and make them bad for you guys, but maybe I will publish in near future! thank you for understanding.
a/n im gonna try my best to continue this series + sorry guys i went with both yk i love my landoscar and apologies for low effort post this is so not edited enough
I. You have been to Melbourne more times than you could count. A million times when your dad took you for karting and signings, and two more times during your F1 career. When you were nine, it was the teal-and-silver walls that said, "Mercedes." Now, they are red with the prancing horse.
“You’re staring again,” Charles chuckled, taking a swig of water.
You blinked, “Am I?”
“Yep. You do not need to be nervous; you’re not a rookie anymore. Please remember to be yourself when the paparazzi comes. Smile as well!”
“I always smile.”
“Sure, smiling like you were about to explode at the press conference in Abu Dhabi.”
“I was just focused!” you laughed in response.
Charles made a ‘hm’ noise like he didn't believe you whatsoever. Charles had been doing this media thing forever, and he barely ever paid mind to it as well. Except he looked good at every angle, effortlessly. He was too perfect, you swore.
You were trying your hardest to strive for that. Ferrari’s PR team had set up the garage, backdrop clean, and ringlights on. It looked like a dentist’s office. One of the members, Lyle, seemed like he had four shots of espresso with a dash of something from a flask. You and Charles were about to make Instagram reels for the next half-hour.
“Okay, okay, okay!” he clapped to grab our attention. “So Charles, you're showing her the ropes, because you're like the mentor or whatever. You're the rookie,” he said, pointing to you.
I furrowed my brows, “I’ve been driving for this team for three years; been in the garage since I was 3 months, Lyle.”
“But like the narrative-”
“The narrative is I’ve podiumed six times,” you sternly replied. You were not here to be treated like a new student, because you weren’t. You and Charles were the head of the horse.
Charles said your name before putting a hand on your shoulder. He looked full of patience and looked at Lyle, “She is very teachable.”
After around twenty minutes of content consisting of ‘who knows Ferrari trivia better” (which you won by three points), name the track, and reaction to fan comments, you were pooped. One comment was about you, overtaking at Monza last year, and how ‘graceful’ it was, even though that was a near panic attack moment.
You had a good season. A great season, even.
Before all that, Dad retired, and Ferrari had called almost immediately after. You soon were in the garage with a red kit and ‘Hamilton 'stitched on a red leather jacket, which was probably just as expensive as your first kart. You were so, so focused.
“That’s a great comment,” Charles quietly said, nodding at the tablet Lyle held. He was being genuine and simple about it, as always. “You're quick. The car will love you.”
You side-eyed him, “We don't know that for sure yet.”
“I know what quick looks like. The genes carry on,” he smiled, now getting up. “Now come on, they want us next to the car for the announcement post.”
II. Your phone was already buzzing by the time they wrapped up. Tagged in at least three hundred posts, you didn't even bother looking at DMs and notifications. However, you did look at the comments from a dump you had your social media manager post literally five minutes ago.
ynhamilton
❤︎ 293K 💬2K ↳↰ 7,939 ➢829
ynhamilton glad to be back x
ferrariforlife ok father feature
lewishamilton avid hat wearer
⤷ ynhamilton well yes
charles_lerclerc 👏
kimi.antonelli neigh
⤷georgerussell63 neigh x2
⤷ynhamilton neigh x3
─────────────────────
The paddock club was so disconnected from the rest of the track. Hospitality suites were stacked up, and catering was bliss. Your eyes were beginning to get tired of going from the bright red to the papaya orange.
Lando spotted you from about thirty meters away and stood up so fast he nearly knocked over someone’s champagne flute.
“She lives!” he announced to you.
“Sit down,” Oscar said, without looking up from his phone.
“Hey! I'm expressing my very real human emotions, Osc.”
“What you're doing is causing a scene in the suite.”
“Same thing.”
You dropped onto the white couch across from Oscar and stole a cookie from the marble table, a habit you've instilled since you were able to grab onto things.
“Good media day?” Oscar asked, now shutting his phone off.
“Charles told me that I have my dad’s genes, and it shows, so pretty good.”
“You do.”
“Thanks, Osc.”
Lando was lying sideways across the couch with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. It was probably the only shut-eye he was going to get today. A big, fat smirk on his face with it.
“Sooo,” he started. “Ferrari.”
“Ferrari,” you repeated.
“Big red and scary walls, innit.”
“Not that scary,” you laughed, picking up another cookie. You were prepared for your dad to pop out of nowhere and advise against snacking a day before a sprint.
Lando grinned again, which meant you knew he knew you were lying. You’ve known that grin for fifteen years and have gotten yourself in trouble more times than ever.
“You’ll be fine,” Oscar said, direct and simple. “You race extremely well, specifically during the warmer races. And your racecraft was better than ours in Abu Dhabi last year.” he paused for a moment. “Annoying.”
“How kind of you,” you proudly smiled at his half-compliment.
“I noticed how annoying it was.”
You smiled anyway, “Wow, that should be my caption on my next dump. ‘81 thinks Ferrari’s strategies are spectacular.’”
Oscar just shook his head at my antics, while Lando cackled. Someone turned to look, and soon after, a couple of phones followed. You’ve always felt like phones and cameras should be banned here.
“Phones, Lan,” Oscar warned, his eyes darting forward.
“It’s fine,” Lando insisted, taking a chug of water. “Let them.” Unbothered as ever.
Oscar’s face also slightly tightened up, the displeasure clear on his face. “We are just talking and having a snack in the paddock. There’s nothing to photograph.”
“You both have one of the most photogenic faces in motorsports," you said.
“First, wrong, your dad or Senna does. Two, this is boring compared to what we do on Sunday. They’ll get over it,” Lando rolled his eyes.
By the time you three headed out forty-five minutes later, laughing of course, there were at least five people who posted and tagged you guys. Seriously, are you guys that interesting?
III. The thing about being Sir Lewis Hamilton’s daughter was the fact that people could have an opinion about the way you stir your tea.
They monitored what you wore, said, and sat next to at the conference because God forbid you chose a rookie over their goat Max (whom you love anyway). They surveillance if your helmet design was a tribute or just a sponsored ripoff. Whether you deserved that red seat compared to a friend who was with you in prema.
You had a complex relationship with these facts. It was between ‘I don't care’ and the truth, being that it ate you up sometimes, even if you never showed it.
Friday nights during race weekend brought a warm buzz in your system, both figuratively and literally. Debrief, dinner at a local restaurant, and then, if deserved, a bright night out. The grid was small, but everyone ended up being in the same three places.
Tonight, it was a rooftop bar that Charles had texted in your group chat at 9:00 PM sharp with no context or preamble. The red pin emoji and a map were all that it took to get you shoving your feet into heels a size too small.
Charles and Carlos were arguing, or maybe talking with their hands in the corner, while Rebecca and Alexandra laughed beside them. George, Alex, and Kimi were giggling along with their gossip.
Lando was on top of someone’s shoulder singing to the house song, while Oscar observed from the side.
“You made it,” Oscar said, nudging his elbow gently at you.
“Well, when Charles sends a pin, you know I'm there.”
Oscar looks around the rooftop, watching the various grid members unwind in their own personal way. “Of course.”
Lando somehow was already off the person’s shoulders and shouted, "You're here!” before throwing an arm round your shoulder. He smelled like a foreign cologne and vodka. “Oscar bet me twenty quid you wouldn’t show.”
“I did not,” Oscar said, plain-faced as ever. You could bet you would never see this man shit-faced.
“Did too,” Lando whined.
“I said you might not come because of your late debrief. That’s just an inference.”
“Uh, so that’s basically you saying she wouldn't come.”
“That is just genuinely not the same thing I fear.” You held in your laugh, which soon followed.
Your eyes skated between the two. This sheer moment was truly the entire basis of their relationship. Lando swam, while Oscar anchored. You’ve seen it evolve for two whole seasons, and you felt like you were nudging between it.
You brought yourself back to the present, “I’m going to get a drink.”
“Get me something immediately,” Lando said faster than light.
“You have something.”
He groaned, “This is basically water at this point–”
You began to walk off, “Then drink the water, Lando.”
“You need it...” you whispered to yourself as you walked towards the bar, which Oscar heard, replying with a stifled laugh.
Somewhere around midnight, Charles took control of the speaker situation, and the music became somehow better and more moody. You were three songs in and pretending you weren't having the time of your life. A phone came your way, which you immediately clocked. Thankfully, just a grid girlfriend you've seen around.
You mentally loosened up now, going back to singing your heart out.
Later that night, you posted pictures that you somehow had on your phone during the evening.
Oscar texted shortly after that he took your phone and airdropped it before your Uber came.
─────────────────────
charles_lerclerc
❤︎ 903K 💬10,290 ↳↰ 3,298 ➢7K
charles_lerclerc #surprise
formula1girlies losing my MIND omg she looks so good im gonna cry
f1addict FERRARI ERA STARTING ONCE MOREEE omg these two #ilove
forzaferrari best uncle and niece duo
number1papayalover wait, she's out?? On a Friday night?? Before quali?? Omg the woman you are yn hamilton..
ynhamilton wouldn't miss it!
gridwatch she's going out the night before qualifying… interesting..
paddockpulsebars literally every other driver on the grid was there too, mind you. Half the damn paddock at that.
gridwatch ＠paddockpulsebars girl, I'm just saying
gridgossipers wait what are we saying
─────────────────────
ynhamilton
♫ Friday • Riton, Nightcrawlers
❤︎ 739K 💬8,483 ↳↰ 1,033 ➢5K
ynhamilton ily grey goose
lando you didn't say bye 💔
⤷ynhamilton ＠lando hi so you were fast asleep standing up
⤷lando ＠ynhamilton I was actually resting my eyes, thanks x
⤷alpinealpaca the sass gn
⤷oscarpiastri You were drooling.
paddockchasers the way the McLaren boys are in her comments within 4 mins of posting BYEEE
lewishamilton home before 2 am next time, please
ynhamilton so you're in a different timezone x
lewishamilton I'm well aware. Home before 2am!
paddockaddict LEWIS IS FRYING ME WITH THE BEDTIMES
redderbulls the way he publicly commented that I'm dead asl
georgerussellstpose 7-time WDC winner btw
f1gossipdaily why is nobody talking about the fact charles sponsored this event
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pipingpitlanetea
❤︎ 500K 💬20K ↳↰ 10,293 ➢10K
pipingpitlanetea Okay, so Yn Hamilton has been spotted with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri THRICE this week. Media day, paddock club, and tonight, omggg. Our girl is getting cozy with the competition, and we are NOT complaining.
⤷pipingpitlanetea let's also note that the two papaya boys commented almost asap on the post. They're def all awake and still together. Ferrari-McLaren trio when.
ihateredbull the childhood friends to rivals to whatever this is now is sending me
nandotherookie ‘getting cozy with the competition’ as if they havent known each other since they were like fetuses is killing me
mission overview now in the capital of japan, the main four go on to explore ginza. through some sweet gifts and careful interviews, yn eases into her "punishment"
words ~5k
warnings fluff w peter, sweet moments w tony, small descriptions of clothing, tony being tony again, confession (not to yn), usual celebrity stuff, lmk if i missed anything!
The air of Tokyo was eerily similar to New York. It smelt of food and rain, but it was vaguely floral. Most likely, the cherry blossoms are blooming. The sky was a shade of early evening gold that made everything look like a curated film, which made sense given the fact that fingers of photographers are already itching to press the shutter button.
“Here we go,” Val murmured beside me, rolling back her shoulders. Dad was already ahead of us, moving with ease because he’s been through this a million times.
Happy went beside him, scanning the tarmac. Behind me, the crew was managing our luggage impressively fast. I descended the steps with one hand on my bag and the other hand on the silver railing. The shutters escalated infinitely faster. Someone behind me called my name, then Val and Kate’s. A few of them called out to Dad, asking all about the convention and a new deal he was drafting.
I smiled warmly, shifting into the press’s princess. Nat had coached me since I was twelve, not wanting me to become ‘Tony Stark’s menacing daughter”.
Peter came down the steps behind Kate, and instead of seeing, I heard the moment the photographers took account of him. They were more focused now on the new variable of the most influential figures of New York.
I glanced back at him, seemingly doing well. He gave a small smile and kept his focus on the stairs. I didn’t even have to PR train him! I slowed down so he could catch up with me, falling in step.
“You’re doing fine. Did my dad warn you about this?”
“Kinda. Didn’t expect it to be like this. I feel like a zoo animal.”
“Panda,” I snickered. “You get used to it, though.”
“Do you?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “But you definitely improve at pretending.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, almost a smile, but not quite yet.
The escalades were waiting beyond the perimeter, already running. Dad slid into the first car, already on a call before the door shut. Happy sent out luggage to the last vehicle, directing it like a ramper.
Kate gently grabbed my arm, “We’re in the second.”
The four of us piled in, the door shutting behind us, cutting off the noise completely. The lighting was dim, and Tokyo was sliding past us as we buckled. The buildings were high, skyscrapers even higher.
Val’s camera was out already, “Day one!” she announced to the lens, showing the scenery.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
The hotel was wide and bright, and it made you feel undressed, which was odd, because I had changed just to avoid that feeling on the plane. The marbling was grey and gold amongst the white. Floral arrangements taller than most. The staff rushed around quietly, because here they welcomed every VIP in the world.
Peter stopped inside the foyer and looked up, taking it all in.
“You’ll get used to it by tomorrow,” Kate said as she read his expression.
“Hope so.”
We drifted to the front desk, where Dad’s assistant was laser-focused on handling everything on her tablet. Our rooms were on the same floor, which I presumed Dad did on purpose.
Peter and I were on opposite ends of the long hallway that smelled of Miss Dior and cedar. Kate and Val were in the middle. Peter’s room was beside them, which made me giggle a little.
The porter set my luggage in the living area of the suite, and I stood near the entrance, taking in the change in environment. A small living area, bedroom, bathroom that was nudged inside the bedroom, and a mini kitchenette beyond it.
My phone’s text tone sounded, interrupting my daydreaming.
Dad: Get some rest. Big day tomorrow, so don’t stay up too late. Love you.
Me: Love you more.
As soon as I heard the “Dad loved your message” notification, I could hear Val’s door opening, then Kate’s, then a knock that definitely was from one of them on the other’s door. I smiled to myself and started unpacking.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
The plan for the next morning was barely a plan to begin with, which meant by 10:00 AM, it was nonexistent. Dad was already in a pre-convention meeting in one of the conference rooms on a lower floor, consuming at least five cups of coffee already. He waved us off with “be back by four,” which sounded more like a suggestion than an actual rule, so none of us really minded. Mrs. Bishop was at her breaking point, not even bothering to give Kate any rules.
“Ginza first,” Val said, camera already rolling as we arrived on the street. “Then wherever else!”
Tokyo, first thing in the morning, was something else. The streets were clean, and people were moving with purpose, straying a bit from New York. Peter walked beside me with his hands in his pockets, looking at everything with precision, something I recognized with the kids who took AP photography. He was mentally framing and adjusting in real time.
“You alright?”
“I’ve just never been outside the country before,” he said. He wasn’t embarrassed, which I liked. He was just being honest.
“Well, what do you think?”
He looked up at the building, then the street, then a group of people who dressed brightly. Harajuku, perhaps?
“I think I’d like to take pictures of everything.”
“Go ahead.”
He looked at me as if I had just introduced a new concept to him. He slipped his phone out, angling it precisely.
Ginza was gorgeous, especially now since I’m older. I didn’t get to experience much of Japan when I was young. The last thing I remember is eating gyoza that Happy cut up for me during a Stark-Fujikawa meeting.
It was beautiful and a bit intimidating, even for us. A good chunk of the stores required an appointment or a recognizable last name.
Val immediately locked in the moment she saw Chanel and Hermes, pulling Kate towards a display window worth God knows how much. She was on a mission, and had to make everyone’s problem. “Guys, look at the new spring collection-” she spoke behind the camera.
I drifted behind them, enjoying the energy between the two. Peter was still slightly in his shell, which was a little cute. However, I still hoped he would lighten up a tad, because it isn’t every day you get to be in the shopping capital of Japan. His hands were still in his pockets.
“No need to pretend you like the Gucci spring collection,” I joked.
“I wasn’t trying–Okay,” he laughed.
“How about we split up? You guys can check out whatever Val plans on spending her allowance on; we’ll be around.”
“Sounds good to me!” Val smiled brightly, looking at me, then Peter, then me once more. Kate just shook her head, silently asking, “Why would you leave me with her?”
I dragged Peter down the blocks of Ginza, the more reclusive area for shops. My favorite part of visiting any country is the small things we can’t get in America.
Next to a fresh bakery, there was a gallery with prints and canvases that made Peter slow his steps for a moment.
“Do you wanna look here?”
“We don’t have to–” he immediately started.
“Peter,” my voice gave the tone that made him go inside as quickly as possible.
I followed behind him, taking in the small trinkets everywhere. There were little postcards, photographs, calligraphy, scrapbooks; a very specific niche. Film cameras and disposable cameras were in a glass case near the checkout, and behind it, a cork wall full of Polaroids. There was minimal space left, but I expected it to be filled by the time we left.
Peter moved slowly through the shop, taking in everything. He stopped in front of a picture, specifically a picture of the Ginza from a street View. It looked grainy, the colors being shades of black, white, and grey.
“My teacher would say the contrast is too deep, but I think it’s pretty cool,” he said quietly.
“Why’s that?”
“Because true things are normally unusual,” he said a little louder now. He apologized for saying it, but I just shook my head, smiling at his artistic perspective.
“Cute.”
Further into the store, between shelves of film and SD cards, there was a small photobooth. It was similar to those in the movies; cramped, had a curtain that only reached to the middle of the doorway, and was worn.
The sign was hand-written with love in Japanese characters, and below it contained small English letters saying, “smile! :)”
“Oh, you know we have to,” I giggled.
“Yeah?” He smiled at me.
“Oh, yeah.”
My predictions were correct, as the booth was just wide enough for Peter and me. I slide the curtain, giving us a false sense of privacy, since nobody else was in the shop.
Peter’s shoulder was nudged against mine, and I felt his warmth trying to stray away from me, which wasn’t going to happen considering the predicament we were in.
“Ready?”
“San, ni, ichi!”
Snap!
The first photo had already been taken, and it was us staring at each other in bewilderment, mid-sentence.
Again, the countdown began, and this time I faced the camera and closed my eyes, doing duck lips as well. Peter attempted to do the same, but he needs to work on it.
“What now?”
I laughed, “Tell me something you never told anyone!”
“Uhm, uh, I still wear my pajama pants from 8th year!”
We both laughed, the shutter of the camera catching us both.
“Last one,” Peter reminded.
Instead of answering with words, I slung my arm around his shoulder, giving a peace sign with both hands, pulling him in. He saw my peace signs, looked up at my bright face, and imitated them. I felt his body stiffen up, like the same stillness from the club, the plane, and the bodega.
A moment after the automated voice said, “Owatta!” Done! And gave a smiley face on the screen.
I looked down to where the strip was printing, still as close as ever to Peter. When it emerged from the slot, Peter gently took it and held it for both of us to see. One was unplanned, one needed polishing, but the last was the cutest. We looked like we had known each other for ages.
“Can I keep it?” I pleaded towards him, giving false puppy eyes.
He laughed and looked at me, “I was about to ask you that.”
“We can always fight over, Mr. Queens.”
“Or,” he said, “I can get a copy made at the place on the last block. I saw it before we came.”
“Look at you being resourceful! I just think you don’t wanna fight me.”
“I don’t think I’d win,” he chuckled.
He smiled at the photo strip, giving me a chance to look at him.
We continued to wander through the shop once more. Around the entrance were the trinkets I didn't notice when we walked in. They had mini figures, keychains, replicas, and so much more. Peter stopped at the stand, and I walked out, needing a breath of fresh air. I presumed he wanted to look at stuff without someone watching over him like a hawk.
He came out about two minutes later, in his hands a small brown bag.
‘What’d you get?” I asked, being my usual nosey self.
“Nothing,” he quickly replied, which we both knew wasn't true.
I didn’t pry; maybe it was for his aunt?
We were almost back to the luxury area of Ginza to find Val and Kate, until he stopped for a moment, making me turn around. “Here,” he said, holding out the brown bag.
Stunned, I took the bag from his hand and glanced at him before opening it and reaching inside. It was a charm bracelet. It had small links for the charms and mini chains connecting them. There was one charm on the first link– a camera. Peter will forever be associated with cameras in my mind.
“Peter,” I began.
“Before you say anything,” he quickly got out, “I know you can buy things on your own, and I know I didn’t have to. I just saw it and wanted to get it for you.” He rubbed the back of his neck again, his ears turning pink. He was a boy of true habits.
“You’re very sweet,” I smiled at the bracelet. “Mind putting it on for me?”
I handed the bracelet to Peter and let him fasten it, the shine reflecting off the metal. It matched with the other bracelets and jewelry on me, as if it was always meant to be there. I tried not to think too hard about it.
“Thank you. Truly,” I said.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
A couple of shops and one photocopy later, we decided to head back to the main street.
We found the duo again, except this time, Val had gotten hair tinsel and a new blush on her face. She was carrying five bags, and Kate was carrying four.
“Only one of these is mine by the way,” She flatly said, exhausted from Val’s early antics.
“Oh, please, they don’t have this back in New York! I think I’ve made some very wise decisions today,” her smile bright as sunshine, camera still somehow in hand.
Peter and I looked at each other, then at the two girls. “Need help?”
“No,” Val said, speaking for both her and Kate. “We’re both fine. Are you guys done shopping? Are you getting cheap on me?”
I laughed, “No, Val, I am not. I got what I wanted.”
“And you, Peter?”
“All good. Very happy with my purchases,” he said, his mind going back to the photo strip and the charm bracelet.
“Great!” Kate said with the most enthusiasm I’ve heard all day, “Let’s go prepare for the convention.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Back at the hotel, somehow by four o’clock, we were all exhausted. It was a miracle we all made it back in one piece, and no mad messages were sent by parents considering Val’s not-so-great reputation with deadlines and curfews.
The afternoon dissolved into a fast yet productive chaos of four teenagers getting ready for a major event, all sharing a sense of occasion. Kate appeared at my door, asking me if I had powder because her makeup artist chose the wrong one. Val sent a snap asking if pumps or kitten heels were cuter. I could hear Peter’s shower running when I walked by at one point.
I stared at my dress, which was hanging on the rack in the closet, exactly where I had put it in the morning. It was an off-the-shoulder gown with a long slit down the skirt. It matched Dad’s tie. It was sent for me specifically because my stylist knew that wherever Dad walked tonight, I’d be right beside him, and looking like a carbon copy.
I sat at the vanity, staring at my flawless makeup as my stylist continued his craft. My hairstylist was finishing the final touches, layering a mist of hairspray. It was actually my favorite part of these events.
When they finished, I promptly thanked them before they exited. I stood in front of the mirror, still in my robe. My eyes wandered to the bracelet on my wrist. I debated on keeping it, but Dad wouldn’t want it clashing with the jewelry picked out.
I unclasped it gently and set it on the jewelry dish on the nightstand. “I’ll come back for you,” I said to myself.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
I now sat straight up at my vanity, scrolling through my feed before I heard a knock. I went up to unlock it, and it was Dad. “Ready?” He looked at me the way he did when we were at these types of events, like he was amazed at how much I’ve grown up. Made us both soft.
“Yeah! You look good.”
“I hope I’ll be hearing a lot of that tonight.” Dad offered his arm, “Shall we?”
The convention floor was exactly how I remembered the last one. Managed carefully and full of networking opportunities. It was extremely hard to get into one of these events, again, if you didn’t have a recognizable last name, company, or a motherload of money. Everyone was polished and not their usual selves, but then again, who would be?
Warm light from the chandeliers glazed over the hall, giving a perfect filter for the night. Dad moved through as if he owned it. Well, if you squint, he kinda did. His ‘charming’ smile and terrible jokes got him the respect and the titles he has now. He shook hands with multiple world leaders, business owners as prominent as him, and met many new faces.
Kate and Val were at my side near the entrance. Kate was in a high-neck dress, adorned in deep purple and silk. Her hair was blown out, contrasting with her usual ponytail. Val’s was a sweetheart-topped dress, the neckline making a cute heart. The pastel blue brought out her eyes, as well as her curled hair.
Behind my two best friends was Peter, looking a bit more comfortable than he had at the airport. His blazer fits well, not too loose nor too tight. I wondered who had intervened. He was doing the usual–staying attentive, but his hands were still in those damn pockets.
“Frankie’s already here,” Val said, eyeing the room. “He texted me from Mom and Dad’s plane. They said they landed an hour ago.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Annoyingly fine, prolly,” She said with that same tone she used whenever talking to or about Franklin.
Kenjiro Fujikawa found us before we found the bar, which was quite impressive on his part.
He looked the same as I saw in the magazines. His hair was grey and slicked back as usual, and his suit was tailored to perfection. His smile was wrinkled and worn with love. He spotted Dad, and his smile grew.
“Tony!” he said, extending his hand.
Dad took it well, his posture now relaxing a tad. “Kenji. Been too long, bud.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” Kenjiro’s eyes moved to me, and his expression was now shocked.
“And this cannot be–”
“It is,” Dad said, smiling proudly.
“I haven’t seen you since you were this big!” he put his hand down to his knee, signifying it’s been a while. “You look more and more like your father every day.”
“She carries the looks in this family, that’s for sure,” Dad said, a hearty laugh coming from Kenjiro.
“I’ll take it,” I smirked.
The two both fell into conversation about the convention, Stark-Fujikawa, and more about the future of business. I stayed by Dad’s shoulder, which was helpful to us both in these situations. My presence next to him reminded people he was a father alongside his other great endeavors, and his presence next to me helped me gain more knowledge of his associates.
Kenjiro shook my hand, firm and warm, and told me it was nice to see me after fifteen years. He was a genuine man, and both Dad and I appreciated it.
Eleanor Bishop found Kate the way she normally did–with precision and a complaint.
I saw her advance from across the room, and I was debating on warning Kate that in the next five seconds, the hawk is on the hunt. I took a sip of my sparkling water that someone handed me instead.
“Katherine,” Eleanor greeted as she stood next to Kate, preparing to observe her from head to toe.
Kate slightly turned, “Mom. Hi.”
She analyzed Kate’s makeup, hair, the ‘low’ cut of her dress, and then her earrings. Her thoroughness was not acquired through being a housewife, that’s for sure.
“We did not agree upon half of the things you are wearing right now.”
“I’m aware,” Kate gleamed, holding back the biggest shit-eating grin known to man.
“So you knew and wore them regardless.”
“They looked better with the dress.”
Eleanor chose not to entertain her daughter’s rebellion and turned to me, shifting into a more welcoming tone. “Y/n, you look stunning, dear.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bishop. You as well.”
“And you, Valeria.” She acknowledged Val with a nod, cordial yet still grading.
“Ma’am,” Val returned with respect.
Eleanor’s strong gaze now moved to Peter, which was almost as funny as it was terrifying for him. There was a slight pause, recalibration, if you will. The neutrality that made people really scratch their heads to ask if it was a backhanded compliment ot not.
A third variable, he was. “And you are?”
“Peter,” he squeaked out. “Peter Parker. I’m schoolmates with Kate, Val, and Y/n.”
“Peter,” she repeated, making a mental note.
Kate looked at her mother with a tired look, “He’s with us, Mom. Mr. Stark brought him.”
Nothing was said by Eleanor after, not even a hum, which could mean a variety of things. In my eyes, it was approval that could never be replicated. Her eyes now moved to Dad, giving us all a sigh of relief as they jabbered about the convention program.
Kate gave me an eyeroll, and I returned it graciously with the tiniest grin.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Franklin Richards found Val as he always did, because God forbid she’s anywhere but away from him. He was already preparing his insults and snarky jokes.
“Nice dress,” he said, bumping Val’s shoulder. “Mom pick it?”
Val turned to him quickly, “Wanna say that again louder?”
Franklin smirked at his successful attempt at ragebaiting his sister, not even five minutes after seeing her. He was taller than the last time I remembered, which reminded me that the rest of us had stopped growing long ago. He looked around the group, knowing Val wouldn't be seen with anyone else at these events.
He looked past us, saying, “Parker?” with the biggest surprise and smile.
Standing at the side, Peter looked up, and the confusion clouded his face before it went to a toothy smile. “Frankie! Hey!”
“What are you doing here, dude?” He had asked, already moving to dap up the younger boy. He clapped Peter on the shoulder, a common formality between the two, I presumed.
“You were like fifteen the last time I saw you, right?”
“Yeah, fifteen or sixteen,” his smile genuine. “You were like doing that thing in the chem lab.”
“Very specific,” Franklin laughs.
“You wouldn’t let me do anything, man!”
“I was the senior, you were the sophomore, I stand on that decision.” Franklin looked at Peter, then the rest of us, and I swear he had a fat loading bubble on his forehead. He looked at Val, and she returned the look.
“Don’t,” she mouthed.
Franklin didn’t say anything, which made it somehow worse.
The press was finally let into the convention, which was not alerted to anyone in the room. They were at the far end of the room, sectioned off. Their cheers and pleas for us to be seen were heard quite well from the outside of the hall, making half of the room groan.
An associate gestured towards Dad’s direction, and he acknowledged it, leaning towards me. “Don’t disappear now, little lady. Gotta show your fans what you're wearing so it can sell out tomorrow.”
‘I wasn't going to,” I lied through my teeth.
“You were checking how many paces it was to the restroom.”
I dropped my shoulders with a groan, knowing my Dad was right. Kate and Val moved to the carpeted area as quickly as they could, wanting to get it over with. I fell in beside them and arranged ourselves into the normal formation. Kate, me, then Val, respectively, as it always had been since we were kids.
The cameras immediately started shuttering, blinding lights from the crowd. They called our names occasionally, grabbing our attention to get the perfect photo.
You know the moment that you see something in your peripheral vision, but you choose to ignore it? That something was Peter as of right now. He stayed back, which was the correct choice. He stood near the tables at the edge of the area, again, hands in pocket watching.
Rather than watching the cameras, he was watching us. I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was there.
Franklin appeared beside him shortly after I noticed, which I quickly converted into a smile.
Peter watched the shutter of the cameras blind the three of us, instead of standing to the side like a flamingo.
“Chill,” Franklin advised, elbowing him gently. Family trait at this point. “You look like you're calculating something.”
“I’m not,” Peter quickly replied.
“Well, you’re doing something.” Franklin leaned against the high table beside him, looking at the scene with comfort. He was never really for the cameras, having quite a private and quiet social life in comparison to his younger sister. All of his social media was private; he avoided paparazzi whenever he was out, rarely showing up for public events unless it was for his family.
He made his peace with solitude and kept it that way. “How do you know the other two?”
“School,” Peter said. “And uh, it’s a long story.”
Franklin hummed and looked at him from the side, “Which one?”
Peter didn’t reply, which gave Franklin enough of an answer to know.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, looking back at the press, “She’s a great person. Genuinely. Like, she didn’t have to be like this, especially because of her complicated life. She knows how to navigate both worlds.”
Peter looked at him, face pale.
“Now, I'm not saying anything,” Franklin’s tone went back to its normal, playful self. “I'm just making some conversation,” he shrugged.
“Right,” Peter said.
A brief pause, until Franklin spoke out again. “Parker.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re calculating again.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
After a billion photos, the interviewers made their way through the photographers as they always did, doing whatever it takes to get a word. Inevitable, if you will.
A journalist who looked familiar from some gossip outlet was in the crowd, mic already connected, and a cameraman behind her. She caught Dad immediately, waiting for this moment for the past month.
Dad knew she was coming and moved with purpose, which meant I followed.
“Mr. Stark, a quick word, please?” She asked.
“Sure,” he easily agreed. “You already know my daughter, Y/n.”
“Of course!” She smiled at me. “Mind if I include you?”
“My pleasure.”
Her large mic came inches away from the bottom of Dad’s jaw, “Mr. Stark, what brings Stark Industries to Japan this year specifically?”
As expected, Dad’s perfectly smooth answer got her buzzing. The talk about partnership, innovation, and new HUD technology created a large smile on her face, knowing she’s getting a nice bonus when she gets back to work. I stood there and looked at Dad, taking in the information.
In a flash, she turned to me. “Y/n, you’ve been more and more visible at events hosting and featuring Stark Industries in recent years. Is there a future for you in the company whatsoever?”
My mind went totally blank, because in truth, I hadn’t really thought about it. Not in any specific way. I knew the company in many ways, but not in the way people were asking.
I felt Dad slightly stiffen beside me, not intervening. He wanted me to answer in my honest opinion, his own way of pride in me.
“I believe,” I started, hoping it would come to me as I spoke. “That Stark Industries has been a part of my life ever since I was young, so it is not really a separate thing I must decide. If I end up formally involved or not, it’s already in the framework. How I approach and solve problems,” I paused for a moment, thinking of a warm conclusion that still gives a more positive answer.
“Formally though? Most likely so, yes. It’d be hard to stray away from something that has been with me my entire life.”
The journalist nodded happily, getting the true answer she wished for. “And Mr. Stark, what are your thoughts on her answer?”
Dad’s gaze went from the journalist to me. His voice was now a bit less professional and more comfortable. “She’s already better at this than I was at her age. And I was quite exceptional at her age, so that is saying something,” he said with a smile.
A warm feeling moved through my chest, but then he decided to continue.
His tone now shifting to the terrible joke he was about to say, “The company would be lucky to have her. Assuming, of course, she can be on time for things, which remains open.”
“Dad–” I quickly tried to shut it down.
“Developing a skillset and sticking with it!” He emphasized to the journalist. “We are working on it!”
She laughed as I shook my head with embarrassment, because Tony Stark was like any other Dad on the planet.
But we were both smiling, which was a big win for us both.
