Chapter Text
Fate has chosen you as its champion once again. As you align the little snowmen dancing along the mantle of the fireplace your mother’s voice echoes through the halls as she talks to a friend of hers, a friend you’ve known all your life. She isn’t technically your aunt , sure, but she’d sure changed your diapers and let you sleep over growing up. You’d been tagging along to her kid’s sports games since you were old enough to remember and her family had shown up at your recitals and shows in response.
You’d always had a bit of a thing for her son, too. It started off innocently enough, some of your earliest memories were of him begrudgingly helping you set up a dollhouse you’d gotten from their family before settling in to show you how to play on the new WiiU. They were close, coming over to your little house in the suburbs of Brooklyn just a few blocks away from their own every fourth of July and Memorial Day barbecue, or just for dinners on Sundays. You’d only watched him grow into a more and more handsome boy before they'd moved out of your neighborhood to a place on the other side of the city. They’d come around less and less in the last year, Schlatt seeming to have disappeared, but of course, that’s when you’d found the channel.
And you’d fallen in love all over again. This time it wasn’t the innocent puppy crush of a girl just happy an older kid gave her the time of day. This was something gripped by puberty’s hormonal claws. This was carnal . The voice matched instantly and you relished as people were fooled again and again by face reveal fakeouts; you knew and it felt more intimate to hear him speak candidly on theweeklyslap, or in those odd earnest moments during streams.
You were obsessed, and yet you didn’t dare say so. You didn’t dare reference YouTube outside of crafts and music videos for fear of word getting back that you were a fan. You had what the people in your circles craved; you had Schlatt in the flesh. You had his fucking face in a magnet on your fridge from a Christmas Village trip six years ago.
Suck it, Twitter mutuals. You were going to get everything they were frothing over. Because you had a plan.
You head into the kitchen to swipe a cooling snickerdoodle from the rack while your mother was distracted. You had a big day tomorrow, after all. You deserved a treat after all that hard work.
-
The Plan was conceptualized only in your head for fear of discovery. After all, it wasn’t exactly a thing good people did, but The Plan overruled things like morality. You were going to lose your virginity, after all, far more important than silly things like laws.
Step one: prepare yourself.
Sex wasn’t a foreign concept to you, technically. You’d gotten health class just like everyone else at school, but you knew your way around every blocker your parents had put on your phone thanks to being far more savvy than they were. You’d started getting that itch and after ensuring incognito mode was on you’d searched to your hearts content. Fanfiction had sated your curiosities while spawning hundreds more, reading you down rabbithole after rabbithole. Real life porn was fascinating too, and you’d stumbled upon more than a few things that had you wondering just how someone fit all that in there.. Your own tight cunt couldn’t take much more than two of your own delicate fingers, the stretch uncomfortable. You’d seen too many videos to think you’d be able to take an adult man like that though, so you’d started to work yourself open. Slowly working from the handle of one hairbrush to another, pushing a massager against your clit to mask the agony of stretching. After a week of trying you could slip the handle into yourself after only a little bit of work, once you’d felt the weird slimy fluid you seemed to produce so much of dripping down over your other hole, signaling you were aroused. Then three fingers wasn’t so much a problem. It was hard to find things big enough to work on that were practical sometimes, but your favorite was an old electric toothbrush. It buzzed deep inside you as you listened to another gonewild audio, whispered moans for the imagined other party to fuck you harder, faster, the voice fading from your ears to be replaced with the voice of the man you loved so much. It was the best way to orgasm, to imagine he was the one fucking you, the heavy blankets covering you his body and the thick plastic opening you up his dick. How big would it be? Would it stretch you like you enjoyed? You’d learned to enjoy it after a few upgrades, relishing the vibration and feeling the pain morph into pleasure as you grew more aroused. It was all for him, after all.
Step two: acquire the materials.
Christmas shopping was in full swing as you trotted around the mall with your friends, stomach full of cheap takeout and hand currently cold from the iced coffee you insisted on getting despite the cold weather. You didn’t care. You’d been told to find an outfit for Christmas cards, and pick out a few gifts for your family. You’d been given some money but there was some cash tucked away just for you, a receipt your mom would never see.
Victoria’s Secret stood before you, and you hesitated before bringing it up. But you passed off the idea to your friends rather innocently enough, by claiming it was because you had a gift card, and needed a new bra. They just didn't need to see the lacy pair of underwear you tried on too, see the silky fabric disappear between your teenaged cheeks and the dark stretch marks of your still growing hips framing the black fabric. You twisted and turned in the mirror of the changing room as you pulled the new bra on to match, posing and feeling only slightly uncomfortable in the revealing outfit. You didn't look anything like the models outside, but he’d like it. Especially with the next part of your plan.
The mall trip ended with your goodies stuffed into the bottom of your bag to be squirreled away as soon as you were home.
Next came the hard part. Quite literally. You knew there were things that made guys… excited , medications and stuff and you knew that you definitely had to be an adult to buy them. That didn’t really matter to you. You knew where to go, who to slip twenty dollars to and who to meet under the stairs before fourth period to let someone squeeze your ass and slip a hand under your shirt to touch the barely there breasts that were almost always tender from growth. It always felt wrong, not only because you didn’t necessarily like the person touching you but because you only wanted one set of hands on you. The hands that thousands of twitter users craved for, made edits of. You always scrubbed yourself extra hard in the shower to ensure none of their filth would remain on your skin, none would ever get close to rubbing off on your beloved. He was yours. Yours.
Nothing would get between you and your prize now.
Step three: seduction
The day before Christmas Eve. You rose early, immediately hopping in the shower before any of your family could claim it. It was already time to start preparing yourself. You got pretty much every square inch of your body with a razor and sugar scrub, taking extra time to ensure the wispy, curling hairs covering your juvenile cunt were washed down the drain. You were soft as a damn baby. Your new shampoo (a gift from your friend before you’d left school for break) combined with lotion made sure you smelled perfect as you got dressed in your outfit for the day. A soft cream sweater that was cropped at the hem with a black schoolgirl skirt, cableknit tights and shiny, clunky mary jane shoes that left a scuff on your hardwood floor, on the white bathroom tile when you’d done your makeup. The lipgloss was just a little shimmery, and smelled like strawberries. A delicate necklace, small earrings, a few rings, and you were ready. The outfit was set, and one last check in the mirror had you twirling and giggling with glee before dashing downstairs to the kitchen to help with baking cookies for the day.
Only a few hours later, hours that crept on like days, you finally saw the car pull up in the driveway. Not wanting to look desperate, you instead went to the kitchen to grab a few cookies and put them artfully on a plate, waiting a whole two seconds after the doorbell rang to answer. You opened it to reveal your aunt and uncle, the latter burdened with gifts.
“Merry Christmas!” Your aunt grinned and swept you into a tight hug, which you returned. You stopped aside to let your uncle in as well, hugging him once he got past the threshold. Once you’d let go your eyes scanned for the last person coming, worry spiking your heart as you didn’t immediately see your lover.
“Where’s–”
You were cut off by the most beautiful sight. He’d cleaned up well, facial hair trimmed but still there, with a thick green Christmas sweater on and a little gold cross necklace resting against his chest. He had a crockpot in both hands and was trailing the cord along the ground, making his way up the front steps. Your heart skipped a beat as he caught your eye and grinned and ohhh no, you couldn’t feel weak, not now. Not now! You calm yourself as you move away, trying to keep your face from going red. Once Schlatt was in the door you shut it behind him, guiding him right to the kitchen to put his offering down before you wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas, big J!”
Solid arms wrap around your shoulders and a hand pet your hair. “Hey, kiddo, merry Christmas. How’s it been?”
You pulled away and offered up a shrug. “Not much. I’m on JV cheer now, and dance team.”
Schlatt nodded and offered up a fist to bump, which you did. “Nice one. I bet you wipe the floor with them.”
“I do. Snickerdoodle?” You offered up the plate still in your hand and he took one, biting into it and humming at the sweet flavor.
“You make these?”
“Mhm! Mom made the peanut butter ones. Oh, you can plug whatever that stuff is in over here.”
Schlatt towers over you as he puts the pot on another counter. He has almost a foot on you and he seems so much bigger in real life now that you know what others see him as. You catch a scent of his cologne and you feel heat bloom in your gut. You had to have something of his to keep. You were going to lose it. Oh, god the scent of his sweater was enveloping you you were going to–
He stepped away, greeting your mother, and you were able to center yourself once more. Be normal. Be normal. You’d get your shot. You scooped some hot chocolate out of the pot simmering on the stove into a mug, dunking a chocolate cookie into it and biting the soaked section off before washing it down with the warm drink. The chatter of the kitchen picks up as the adults all start to speak, questioning Schlatt on his life (they don't know him like you do they don't understand it they don't) as you pick at the cheese and crackers set out for the guests to snack on. It's silly, hearing them fumble with the terms you grew up hearing. How he's so popular, and does he know so-and-so, her co-workers kid watches them, all utter drivel. None of them would understand him like you could. Like only you could, keeping up with both his personal and his public life.
It's only after what feels like hours of interrogation (which was really only about ten minutes) that he's able to break away, joining you at the stove to get his own drink. You glance up and take in the scrunch of his nose as he expertly tilts a ladle full of steaming hot chocolate into a mug, only failing to keep it from spilling at the end and dribbling it down the side. You stare at his tongue as he casually licks up the drop before taking a sip, glancing down to you and making you realize how intensely you were looking.
"Jeez, they really never stop asking questions, huh?" You only get an apathetic shrug from Schlatt in response before your aunt calls you over and it's your turn to be the one forced into a loving interrogation. It's fine, though. You don't mind the asking in and of itself, you just hate that they don't understand Schlatt. You could talk about your accomplishments for as long as you needed to for them to be satisfied. Eventually the conversation fades away from you and you're able to escape, scooping up your cat who had been curiously approaching the partygoers and taking him into the living room.
"Look who it is, Athena, it's your favorite cousin!" You croon to the cat, earning an uncaring yawn in response. "Oh, you're excited, be nice."
"She might not like me, I probably still stink like my own cat." He's on the couch, casually draped over half of it with his long legs crossed. You push Schlatt's legs out of the way with a mumbled "omigosh move" and sit down, offering the cat up to him.
"I don't think she'll mind. You won't mind, right?" Athena's pretty blue eyes blink again and she makes a little noise, going to investigate the infrequent guest. Her tail sweeps back and forth, long fur flicking like a feather as she sniffs at Schlatt's sweater and promptly goes for his hands to nuzzle. She rubs her face all over his phone, claiming it as hers before starting to investigate the rest of him. You just watch in amusement as he put the device down to start petting the affectionate kitty, a grin so earnest you rarely saw it on his lips.
"I guess not. Hey, baby, you're such a pretty girl, yes you are," Schlatt sat up a little more and Athena settled on his lap, content to sit on the bigger, warmer human for now. You understood her far too well. "I swear, everyone I know has such cute cats and then mines just some guy."
"You've shown me him! He's cute!" You protest, waving off the idea that Jambo was any less cute. "Mom just really likes purebreds. I wanted a shelter baby, but she said no." You roll your eyes and reach out to scritch under Athena's chin. "Can I see your friend's cats, though?"
You've already seen the first picture of Coots he shows you but you gush all the same, asking questions and watching videos of him, of Jambo, and playing along. Every new one that hasn't been posted, that's just for you, sends a flare of excitement up your spine. This is the relationship nobody else gets to have. If only you could really have him, wake up with Jambo in bed and with those handsome hands draped over your body every morning…
Eventually your mother comes in, summoning you back to the kitchen. It's time to start setting up for dinner, which seems odd to you. Wasn't it kind of early?
"Isn't it kind of early for dinner, Mom? It's not even four yet." You weren't going to complain, the food had been cooking all day but it wasn't even starting to get dark.
"Oh, right, you left before we got the news. Your father's boss had a few openings pop up on this winery tour, we'd turned it down originally because we said we had guests over." Your mother plucked a plate from the counter and started towards the dining room. "But since there's spots, he got a call inviting your aunt and uncle to come along. It starts at seven thirty, so I figured that dinner now meant plenty of time to digest and spend time together before we go."
Oh.
…
Oh!
Schlatt wasn't old enough to go, being 20, meaning they already had a babysitter in place and didn't have to find one. Which meant it would just be the two of you, home alone for the rest of the night after they all left. You'd planned on them being here but this made it all the easier.
"Oh, that sounds really nice. Is it in the city?"
"Yes, but we shouldn't be out too late. I was thinking you could open a present before we leave, I think you and Jay could use it to keep yourselves entertained." She winked and you grinned, feeling the flush rise to your cheeks but knowing your mother didn't mean it like that. It was a game or something, you were sure of it.
With that, it was time for dinner. It was a casual enough affair for a holiday dinner; delicious food and drinks, plenty of nostalgia and laughter, a fantastic time. Your eyes ended up going to Schlatt more than anyone else, but you couldn't help it. When he laughed for real because of something you said you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Dessert was served and you felt your heart swell with pride as they all enjoyed it and you got to tell them all that the excellent Boston cream cake was your own doing.
Schlatt had a half piece more, split with your dad.
He said it was the best cake he'd ever had.