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eddiesghxst · 10 months ago

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❆ Let It Snow - a christmas smutty special ❆

happy holidays lovelys!!! ilysm and i hope you all have a beautiful rest of your year, here is a cute n quick little Christmas smutty blurb as my gift to u <3

also, this is not proofread i apologize for any mistakes <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: roomate!eddie munson x reader

summary: your flight home gets canceled on christmas eve and Eddie just wants to cheer you up

contains: friends to lovers trope, reader loves christmas (she's so me), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected - be smart pls), creampie, lots of Christmas cheer, and eddie being the cutest most kindest boy there ever was <3

word count: 3.6k

-masterlist-

Christmas is ruined.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve been rotting away in your room all day— it’s now almost six in the afternoon— and Christmas is ruined.

In the corner of your room, your bags lay in a pile, packed and ready to go for the flight home you were supposed to be on just less than an hour ago. Your mother was devastated when you called her to break the news that you wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas, and although she tried her hardest to mask it over the phone, acting was never really her niche.

You’d already cried once this morning, a pathetic sob that inevitably escaped the second you opened your blinds and saw the blinding-white thick blanket of snow covering Hawkins. It’s not common, heavy winter snows in Indiana, so when the news mentioned that there would be a chance of snow, you didn’t think much of it.

Wrong choice.

You should’ve changed your ticket immediately and got on the next plane to Oregon, where your family would be with warm laughter and endless amounts of food, not to mention the traditional tree lighting you’d miss out on. But now, you’re stuck in Hawkins, chest hollow and cold from the undeniable fact that you will miss Christmas with your family this year.

Suddenly, you hear a raspy curse from the other side of your wall, followed by haste movements and the rustling of sheets and clothes. Eddie’s finally up from his nap. You can’t wait to tell him how stupid you’d been to book a flight so late on Christmas Eve.

Before you can even think of getting up and going to Eddie’s room, the man bursts through your door with a frazzled look as his gaze darts around the room, “Why didn’t you wake me? You’re gonna be late for your flight!” He panics. It’s sweet, really. The way your roommate paces over to your bags and looks at you with a ‘Why aren’t these in the car yet?’ look. It almost makes you hopeful that somehow, now that Eddie’s bright and sunny self is awake, he can find a way to get you home just in time for Christmas.

Obviously, it's not happening, considering Eddie isn’t a god, but one can dream.

You groan, tossing over in your bed to burrow your face deep into your sheets as you mumble into the soft cotton, “I’m not going anymore.” You grumble.

You can hear Eddie’s frown when he responds, “What? What do you mean you’re not going?”

You huff, heart aching as you reply, “Have you looked outside by any chance?”

You don’t turn to watch, but you can hear the shuffling sound of Eddie walking over to your window, shucking the blinds open, and peering out into the parking lot of your apartment that’s covered in that godawful snow. Eddie lets out a sound, something between surprise and sympathy, and it only makes the frown on your face deepen.

“Well… shit,” Eddie says.

You turn over and sit up, huffing as you shove your sheets out of your way, “Yeah. Have fun trying to figure out a way to get me across the country with that type of weather.” You grunt, kicking your legs over the side of your bed to stand and shuffle over to the packed suitcases. You figure you may as well unpack since you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“So when are the airports gonna clear, did they say?” Eddie asks.

You huff as you unfold jeans and tops, mind reeling with scenarios of what you should’ve done to prevent this. “Not until tomorrow afternoon. Christmas will be done by then, and most of my family will be back in their respective homes, so… looks like you’re stuck with me, Munson.”

Which, sure Eddie practically threw a fit when you told him you’d be out of town for the holidays, but you still feel as if you’re intruding. Eddie was supposed to have Wayne come over tomorrow, but you’re going to be here probably sulking, and it’ll be awkward and pitiful, and it’s just not at all what you’d wanted your or Eddie’s Christmas to be like!

“...Okay, well,” Before you can fully register what’s happening, Eddie is closing your suitcase and grabbing your hands, dragging you up to your feet and ignoring your confusion as he speaks, “You can’t spend Christmas like this, sweetheart. You’ll end up like the Grinch. Do you wanna be the Grinch? Don’t tell me you wanna be the Grinch.” Eddie rambles as he drags you out of your room.

You try to fight a smile at Eddie’s rapid fire of words, but you fail as you shake your head, “No, I don’t want to be the Grinch, asshole.” You grumble as he drops your hand.

Eddie drops your hand and claps loudly, a bright grin spreading over his lips when he turns to you, “Wonderful! Then we have to get in the Christmas spirit.”

Eddie leaves you confused in the small hallway of your shared apartment, watching as he chaoticly prances over to the kitchen. He slows down and turns back to you once he sees you’re not following him, a confused expression painting over his face. “Well? Are you gonna leave me to bake alone, or are you gonna join?”

And well, you’ve never seen Eddie even pick up a baking pan, so it’s safe to say this will be interesting.

Eddie is absolutely terrible with ingredients.

You and Eddie both decided to bake cookies, but instead of regular chocolate chips, Eddie pitched in the idea of using red and green M&Ms for the holiday effect, which you thought was pretty clever. The only problem is Eddie can’t measure for shit.

The recipe calls for two tablespoons of cornstarch, Eddie two and a half— damn near three. The next step says to mix in a third of a cup of cooking oil, but Eddie puts in much too little. It’s odd, considering his past with drug dealing, but you don’t mention it and instead opt to discreetly correct his mistakes whenever he turns his back to grab something else.

You both end up covered in flour because the pesky powder honestly just doesn't under the concept of gravity, and you laugh when you see some coating Eddie’s eyelashes. “What’s so funny, chef?” He asks.

You smile, “Nothing, you’ve just got… you got some on your eyes.” You reach up with a gentle hand, the sleeves of your sweater long enough to pull over your thumb so you can carefully dust off the white powder.

Eddie’s eyes are so bright and attentive this close, watching your every move with a type of sincerity you’ve only ever seen on screens from Grammy-nominated films and such. It makes your chest warm, and your knees quiver as his lips split into a smile, “Thank you, princess.” He softly says. You nod, and you swear Eddie’s eyes fucking twinkle.

You clear your throat, blinking away and stepping back to clear whatever trance from your mind, “Well,” You heavily sigh, “The cookies are in the oven for the next hour, so… I think I’m gonna go read.”

“Actually,” Eddie pipes up, softly reaching out and letting his fingers brush against yours, “I was thinking we could watch a Christmas movie. Unless if you’re sick of me, I totally get it; I’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”

Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t want to read. Hell, you don’t even have a new book to read; you’ve gone through your entire reading list.

“Oh! Well, what movie did you have in mind?”

“Home Alone. Obviously.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re a Christmas amateur, Eddie, did you know that?”

Eddie waves a dismissive hand as you begin to smile, reaching out to spin you around and shove you toward your room, “Just go get in some comfy clothes.”

You snort as you follow his instructions, shuffling over to your room to change out of your flour-coated clothing. It takes you some time to dig through your suitcase, but you eventually find the cute pajama set you bought for the holidays and slip it on, eager to return to the living room and join Eddie.

When you step into the living room, you don’t expect to see furniture pushed out of the way and Eddie standing in the middle as he pushes his queen-sized mattress down to lie right in the middle of the room—your heart races when you realize what Eddie’s done.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You softly ask.

Eddie looks up at you, heavily breathing as he places his hands on his hips, “It’s Christmas Eve!” He beams. You tilt your head with a scolding expression, “I remember you saying you did this with your family, so I figured we gotta keep the tradition going.” He shrugs.

And god, Eddie’s so lovely. Too nice for his own good, really. Your entire body warms at the gesture, watching as he bustles around the apartment, grabbing blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest-like bed.

Seeing Eddie prepare the room wasn’t confusing because you kind of figured that’s what he was doing when you initially saw it, but you became concerned when you saw him drag a tall fake plant across the room.

Eddie steps back and gazes at the fake plant, face twisted in concentration, “Where should it go? The corner, right?” He turns to you. Your brows scrunch in confusion, “Uh… you’re losing me.”

Eddie blinks at you as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue, “The Christmas tree, doll. Where should it go?”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s not a Christmas tree, Eddie, that’s a fake Cat Palm.” Eddie makes a face as if you’ve insulted him, “Says who?”

“Says anyone with general knowledge of the world.” “Why can’t this tree be a Christmas tree? As far as I know, they both have the same qualities that allow them to classify as a tree.” And you’re not going to argue with Eddie on that because he’s being sweet, and you’re interested to see what wacky plan he’s concocted in that brain of his.

So, for the next hour or so, you and Eddie sit on his comfy bed in the living room and use copy paper to cut out shitty snowflakes to put on the ‘Christmas tree’ as you watch Home Alone.

It’s undeniably the most fun you’ve had in a while, and you and Eddie turn your craft into a competition to see who can make the best snowflake, but you keep snipping the wrong spots to create an absolute disgrace of a snowflake. Eddie thinks they’re ‘fucking insane. In a good way!’ though, so you can’t complain.

“These are fucking awful.”

Home Alone 2 is playing, the Christmas tree is fully decorated, and you and Eddie have settled in his bed with a plate full of cookies. It’s a cozy little setup you’ve got, and your cheeks are warm from laughter, and you’ve never felt this content with anyone besides family. And to make matters even better, the cookies taste like absolute shit.

You look at Eddie, gazing at his horrified expression momentarily before bursting into a snort. Eddie looks at you, terror written across his face as you fold in laughter.

“These are seriously the worst cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He reiterates.

You manage to calm your laughter down just enough to respond, “They’re not that bad.”

You and Eddie share a look before you burst into laughter again, “Yeah, they’re pretty bad.” You admit. Eddie joins you in laughter, shaking his head as he offers you the plate of cookies so you can put your half-bitten cookie away. “Remind me to never enter a bake-off,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches over to set the cookies on the coffee table pushed off to the side.

You and Eddie settle into his cozy bed then, content on holiday cheer and the comforting presence of one another. You’re pressed close to each other so you can share the bowl of popcorn you’d made, and you try to ignore how the close proximity makes your insides squeal. You glance at Eddie as you roll an unpopped kernel between your fingers.

“Thank you.”

Eddie turns to you, eyebrows raised in alert. You gesture to the atmosphere of your apartment, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

Eddie makes a face and waves you off, “It’s nothing, princess. Couldn’t have you sad on your favorite holiday of the year.”

Your cheeks warm as you gaze at Eddie, chest feeling so much appreciation for his efforts today. Eddie didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve just said sorry for your shit luck and called it a day, but he took it upon himself to make your ruined holiday into, arguably, one of the best Christmas you’ve had in a while.

“I mean, come on, you heard how badly I was begging you to stay home anyway. Some might even say I got Mother Nature to ring in a favor.” He jokes as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes, briefly returning to the movie as you respond, “You’re dramatic, Eddie. I was gonna be gone for two days.” You point out.

“Two days too long!” He stresses, “What was I supposed to do while you were gone?”

You snort, tossing popcorn in your mouth before speaking, “You were gonna be with Wayne anyway; you’d hardly even think about me.” You wave.

Eddie makes a displeased noise, poking at the popcorn in the bowl, “That’s not true.” He softly responds. You glance at Eddie, heart racing when he locks eyes with you. “Wayne isn’t half as pretty as you, so.” He jokes, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You shyly smile, “You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

Eddie smiles with his eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous, actually.”

And god, you think you imagine it when Eddie’s gaze falls to your lips, but then he’s reaching out to gently drag his thumb across your bottom lip. You lean into him on instinct, body aching for his touch, lips crying out to feel his lips on yours, and thankfully, Eddie doesn’t make you wait long before leaning forward.

Eddie’s lips are soft and perfect for kissing. Plump and addicting to the touch as he moves in tandem with you, hands gently caressing your face as you press into each other. You can’t contain the whine bubbling in your throat, and you almost feel embarrassed, but Eddie responds with a moan, hands moving south to softly grab your waist and pull you closer.

You almost can’t believe this is happening— you making out with your roommate on Christmas Eve— but you figure it was about time that you two shattered the thick wall of tension and desire that’d been building between you both. Stolen glances and lingering touches in the kitchen, too-close dancing at parties, and almost kisses during goodbyes have all led to this very moment as Eddie shifts to lay you back into the mountain of pillows.

You shakily breathe against Eddie’s lips when his fingers dust across your stomach, softly pressing into your warm skin to pull a squeal from your lips. You can feel the spread of his smile against the corner of our mouth, and you squirm as he peppers a few kisses there, “Gonna let me taste you, princess?” He asks, fingers caressing the skin just above the waistband of your festive shorts. You swallow heavily and nod, eyes dancing with his when he leans back just enough to see your face. “Words?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Your voice hardly even sounds like your own. Needy and higher pitched and almost humiliating, but Eddie’s smattering kisses down your chin and neck, hands riding your shirt up your stomach so he can kiss the warm skin there. You softly exhale, reaching up to sink your fingers through his hair and gently tug. He groans against you, softly nipping the fat of your hip as his fingers curl over the band of your shorts. He drags the pants down your legs, sitting up to take them off and toss them to the side. He parts your thighs, a smug grin spreading across his lips as he gazes down at you, your socked feet digging into the sheets as he runs his ringed hands up your legs. “Stop staring.” You grumble.

Eddie chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your stomach and then the band of your panties, “Candy canes, huh?” He peers up at you as he plays with the tiny bow on your pelvis. Your face warms, center throbbing as you squirm beneath him. “Hey,” You frown, “It was a matching set and I thought they were cute.” You explain, nudging him with your foot. Which is true, the set came with a bra, panties, and socks, and it was on sale, so of course you bought it.

Eddie laughs as he settles on his stomach, “Oh, you’re fuckin’ precious,” He beams to himself. Your chest warms, and he leans forward to kiss just over your covered clit, “I love them, sweetheart.” Another kiss pressed to your hip this time. “I love them a lot, actually.” A kiss to the other hip, and you squirm. His lashes flutter when he peers up at you, fingers squeezing your hips as he speaks, “Unfortunately… they’re kind of in the way.”

You playfully roll your eyes, losing the fight to your smile as you respond, “Just take them off, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, hands moving quicker than you’ve ever seen to get rid of the candy cane printed barrier, happily settling back on his stomach and curling his hands around your thighs to pull you closer. He doesn’t give you any warning when he dives in, licking a thick and wet line from your entrance to your clit. He circles the tip of his tongue over your clit, grinning when you moan and twitch from the sensation. He hums as he suckles your clit into his mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depends on it, fingers squeezing at your thighs and hips. You’re drowning in pleasure, but you think you can hear the muffled sound of Eddie mumbling, ‘Fuck, you taste so good’ against you, and it makes your head spin.

You’re a goner when he sinks two fingers into you, expertly curling up against that toe-curling spot to have you crying out his name and arching up into him. He hums against you, nodding his head in encouragement as you cum on his tongue.

You’re blinking through a pleasure-filled haze when Eddie kisses up your body, sticky lips smearing wet pecks across your stomach as he pushes your shirt further up.

You help each other undress the rest of the way, your limbs shaky and clumsy from your orgasm, and Eddie chuckles but kisses you when you glare at him. Your hand wraps around his cock, but Eddie shakes his head, grasping your wrist as he pushes you back into his bed, “I can’t wait. Next time, yeah? Need you now.”

You wouldn’t dream of saying no.

The stretch of Eddie is so much yet so good. It burns, and it takes your breath away, but it sends chills up your back with the heavenly sensation as he presses into you, balls pressing against your ass as he leans over you and moans against your lips. “F–fuck. Jesus, you feel so fucking good.”

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing your body into him. “Please, Eddie. Please fuck me, please.”

“Yeah,” He gently coos as he pulls out. He pushes back in, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in ecstasy, and he hums, “There we go. Taking me so well, baby. Gonna give it all to you— h-holy shit.”

He builds his pace slowly but surely, and you’re so embarrassingly close by the time he’s steadily pumping into you, the loud sound of your sex echoing between your bodies in tandem with your moans.

You moan, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you breathe him in, digging your face into his neck and finding solace in the curtain of his curly strands as he holds you close. Eddie groans when you throb around his aching cock, and he nods, “Give it to me. Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” He gently encourages you, a warm hand pressing into your back as he kisses your neck. You don’t know if you could get any closer, your chests pressed together, skin sticky with sweat as you grind against one another.

You tip over the edge quicker than you’d want to because you want this to last forever, but Eddie coos and holds you through it all, and you feel like you’re floating through clouds of stardust with Eddie kissing you and thrusting into you.

You’re out of it when Eddie cums. So far gone and high on pleasure that all you can do is moan and nuzzle into his neck to kiss and lick and bite as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt.

You’re both breathing heavily, Eddie collapsing against you but holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush you. You’re both silent as you catch your breath, softly running your fingers through Eddie’s hair as the ending credits to Home Alone 2 roll. Against the skin of your neck, you feel Eddie’s lips spread into a sleepy smile, and you can’t help but smile as well as you speak, “What?” You softly ask.

Eddie breathes, shifting so he can nuzzle his face further into your neck, breathing in the scent of you and sex.

“Nothing, just… I’m so fucking glad it snowed.”

1K notes · View notes

httpiastri · 11 months ago

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this christmas – op81

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

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

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

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

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

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

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

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

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

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

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

and then, you were just two.

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

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

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

"a month has never felt this long before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

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

"hey, i just wanted to-"

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod. "yeah, it does."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"exactly."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"is this okay?"

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

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

"give me your other foot."

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

compose yourself, woman.

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

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

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

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

shit.

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

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

"oh, no skiing?"

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

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

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

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

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

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

"but oscar promised to come along?"

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

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

"w-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i don't believe it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"touché."

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

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

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

"indeed..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and when he asks, you tell.

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

and then, he tells you his side.

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"and what does that mean?!"

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

"what kind of plan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

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

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

the mistletoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh, is that so?"

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

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

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

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

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

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

yet again, instant boner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"as you wish."

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

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

"just you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"apologize. now."

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

1K notes · View notes

mattslolita · 4 months ago

Text

plane to paris - c. sturniolo

in which ... having been in love with him for years, you confess your undying affection for chris just moments before you meet your demise. ( best friend!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; pure sadness, mentions of death, angst, crying

"𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏' 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

"now boarding, paris, france at gate seven."

you sighed gently, checking your pocket to make sure that your passport and plane ticket were present — this art gala in which you were invited to showcase your own art would be an amazing experience, as well as a much needed vacation from the things you faced at home. the life surrounding your best friends was something they loved you to be apart of, but you couldn't shake the suffocating feeling it gave you. of course, it didn't necessarily have anything to do with their fame — the problem is between you and your best friend chris. but honestly speaking? this problem had grown when you made the mistake of slowly falling in love with him over the years.

anybody with eyes and common sense could see how you cared for chris — everyone except himself. you'd follow him blindly to the ends of the earth like the lovesick young girl you had been, and over time you learned to hide it from everyone; you lied, saying it was a silly crush that you had eventually grown out of. but you couldn't lie to yourself — you would always love chris.

taking one last look at the airport, you get your passport and ticket scanned, then hurriedly walk past the gate. pausing just briefly, you look up and examine the delta airlines with its door open, urging you forward. just then, you feel a wave of uncertainty — something inside was telling you that things were a little off; you quite possible could have been about to make a mistake. but your heart was telling you that for once, you needed a break from the seemingly never ending unrequited love cycle you fell into with chris.

once on the plane, you walked down the row until you reached your designated seat — you hoisted your bags overhead of you just as a sweet looking older woman came to reside next to you, carrying nothing but a pocketbook and gold fountain pen. you take the window seat and she casts you a warm smile as she sits down next to you.

"and what takes you to paris, my dear?" the woman asks you, her eyes twinkling curiously as she studies you.

"oh, um there's an art gala that i'm supposed to be attending," you explain to her, "they're gonna present my art, too."

"that's just wonderful!" the woman smiles, but she tilts her head at you, "and you're going alone? no handsome young man will accompany you?"

you laugh sadly, shaking your head. "i'm afraid i'll be making this trip by myself."

she nods to you in content, and that's when you notice she takes her pocketbook out as well as the fountain pen, which piques your interest. "may i ask what you're writing?"

"why, today's no better time but to write my will," the older woman tells you. as she looks into your eyes, you notice a glimmer in them, sparking up the uncertainty you felt moments before you boarded the plane.

you nod in understanding, deciding to take your phone out of your pocket — opening instagram, you snap a quick picture and caption it 'taking off.' you added the location of the boston airport then posted it to your story, letting out a small breath; then you took your airpods out and clicked shuffle on a playlust, enjoying the music that flowed throughout your ears, as the plane ascended into the sky.

chris sturniolo had finally been able to have a break from his job, and he and his brothers decided they would come back to boston to visit their parents and best friends — nathan doe and y/n l/n were chris's best friends who lived in their hometown, and he didn't get to see them as much anymore.

truth be told he missed the days of their youth when they'd spend every day attached to each other's hips; chris and y/n were thick as thieves, and he missed his partner in crime — her smile, her laugh, the usual box braids she wore with the charms he helped put in her hair, the way she could walk into a room and instantly make those around her happier, her artistic nature...

unfortunately though when chris had arrived with his brothers at nate's house, he informed them about your art gala in paris that would display your art. he couldn't be happier for you, as he knew art was one of your greatest passions — he just wished he'd had the chance to say goodbye and good luck to you before you departed.

when you and chris were twelve years old, your father up and left out of the blue one night; the next morning, you found a note he wrote to you — he ended it saying 'this isn't a goodbye, y/n. i'll see you later.' from then on whenever you and chris departed from each other, you never said goodbye — it was always see you later.

chris, his brothers, and nate currently resided on nate's living room couch to watch the celtics basketball game that was taking place at the moment. if you had been there watching with them, you would've been laughing with nick about how overdramatic nate, chris, and matt were being. he smiled at the thought, picking his phone up from the side of him as the game continued.

he opened instagram, and your story popped up first much to his relief — a picture of the wing of the delta airline plane stared back at him, as well as the caption 'taking off' with a white heart residing next to it. chris smiles and presses a like to the story, silently hoping that you smiled at the notification.

just then a strange feeling tugs at chris's heart; and he realizes he'll be missing you longer than he thought.

he reaches for the remote that sits on the dining table in front of the four boys, causing nate to furrow his eyebrows at the boy. "c'mon man, what're you doin?"

"m'just turning it up some," chris explains.

his finger however misses the volume button and lands on the channel one instead, causing nate and matt to groan furiously as it switches to the news.

"dude, you just-"

"hold on, quiet for a sec," chris says suddenly as his eyes find themselves glued to the headline staring back at him.

"just in about an hour earlier, delta airlines plane to paris catches fire and crashes just before reaching new york. no information yet on what caused the fire, but the innocent lives of 200 passengers including the plane's captain had been lost today on this tragic afternoon."

chris feels his heart drop and sink to his knees, frozen in place as tears fill his vision, blurring his waterline — matt is quick to get up and curse profanities as tears stream down his face, whilst he shakes his head; nick cries to their parents on the phone, telling them that it wasn't fair; nate babbles about how it couldn't be y/n's plane from boston as tears cascade down his cheeks.

chris can hardly breathe in this moment, hearing his heart beat wildly in his eardrums — no, he refused it. there was just no way that she was gone. he wanted to sue boston airport for allowing a faulty plane the permission to even take off.

how could they take off with you on that plane?

it wasn't fair — you were so good, so pure at heart. you had an amazing soul, always helping and giving to those around you whether it was monetary or as simple as a much needed hug. and oh, the way you loved — you loved people with such a strong force that anyone around you could feel the aura, could see the love you projected. chris has witnessed it more times than he can count.

he knew it because of the way you loved him — and for so long, chris wanted to love you with the same force you loved him.

a ding from chris's phone causes him to look at the cellular device in disdain, expecting either his parents or your mother to have been calling him — what he didn't except, was to see a voicemail.

from your number, that only just came through.

"she called me?" chris whispers, his voice cracked and barely audible, but it was enough to make nick, matt, and nate stop in their tracks. chris hesitantly presses play on the recording, holding the phone to his ear has his glossy eyes remain glued to the tv screen in front of him.

"hi, chris.

before i got on this plane, i sensed this weird feeling that i can't really explain for some reason. originally i was gonna facetime the groupchat when i landed, but then i looked over to my sweet older lady friend next to me, and she was writing her will. and it made me realize tomorrow isn't promised so if i don't say something now, you might never know it.

i love you, chris. more than you'll ever know, and not in the way of just friends. i'm in love with you, and i have been since we were kids. i'm not sure that i always did a good job at hiding it, since nick and nate used to tease me about it for the longest. matt would too, but he was definitely understanding about it. they were always telling me that i needed to confess to you, but i was too scared to ruin our friendship and lose you altogether. and besides, i'm almost certain that the way you loved me was strictly platonic. i want you to know that i would never get mad at you for not reciprocating it, because you can't force what you don't feel.

if by a miracle though you did feel the same at some point, i understand how difficult i probably made it for you to want to express your feelings to me. i've always been extremely happy for you and your past girlfriends because even if it wasn't with me, one thing i always wanted was for you to be happy, no matter what. i'm so thankful to have you as my best friend, and i wouldn't trade you for the world. even if i have to do it in silence, i will be in love with you till i die, and even after.

mon amour, je suis tellement désolée merci de me faire sentir aimée je sais que j'ai besoin de toi je t'aime pour toujours je promets que ce n'est pas un au revoir

i'll see you later, chris."

( lilly's section 💌 )

this is my sign to stop listening to plane to paris on repeat😭🙏 but i absolutely love nessa DOWNNN so yeah. i really hope y'all liked this fic ! muah, i love you all always. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

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kaisacobra · 8 months ago

Text

Deal - Tara Carpenter

Summary: After a long time apart, you and Tara have to figure out if you can still save what you had or if you are too broken to be fixed.

Warnings: A bit of angst (maybe)

Word Count: 3.9K

a/n: This is officially the end of the whole "second best" saga! Thank you so much for everyone who read it till here, it was really fun to write. I hope you guys don't mind the open ending 🤭

Fourth part/Alternate ending of Second Best

Tara couldn't remember the last time she felt this nervous. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, adjusting her bangs again, sweeping them from side to side until they looked almost the same as they did initially. The bright light in the room highlighted her freckles and wide, brown eyes filled with anxiety.

It had been a little over a year since she last saw you, since you accepted a spot for a study abroad program after recovering from the injuries caused by the last ghostfaces attack. You went with Kate, and as far as Tara knew, you and the girl spent that time living together.

She vividly remembered the day you left, as everyone else bid you farewell at the airport while Tara drowned in her own misery in her room. She wanted to go, say something, maybe even plead for you to stay, but she didn't have that right. She had sworn not to get close to you again until she knew she had her emotions under control.

Still, she allowed herself to be a bit more flexible when she noticed that her contact was no longer blocked by you. She let her fingers type an honest and heartfelt message about her mistakes, how sorry she was, and her plans to become a better person in the future. You responded with a heart emoji and nothing more. Nevertheless, it relieved the weight on Tara's chest just to know that you didn't hate her as much as she feared.

Tara remained true to the promise she made, a kind of devotion to you and what you represented in her life. She continued her therapy sessions regularly and decided to set aside some of her pride when trying to find new coping mechanisms, even if some of them required the help of others.

Writing remained her favorite, and she had hundreds of pages to prove it. She would be lying if she said you weren't the most mentioned topic in her journals, but over time, she started expanding her writing, and it became common to see her with a small notebook in her bag at all times, ready to express her opinions and feelings when necessary.

But she didn't have the notebook in hand that day. It was Mindy's birthday, and Tara wanted to be 100% dedicated to her friends, actively participating in games, conversations, and any other activity they needed. She knew she had been a bit absent-minded since you moved away, and it made her friends uneasy, not knowing exactly how to deal with the situation and with Tara herself.

But the day was supposed to be happy and carefree, so that's what Tara was going to appear to be.

Or at least, that was the plan until Tara arrived at Mindy's apartment and heard from the birthday girl herself that you would be arriving any moment. From that point on, Tara only remembers feeling her heart almost leap out of her throat and rushing to the bathroom in a failed attempt to prevent hyperventilation.

She sighed again and gripped the sink so tightly that the knuckles of her fingers turned white. She was anxious to see you, but she had no idea how you would react to the encounter. What if you looked at her with distaste? Or if you didn't even want to look her in the face? Tara knew she would deserve that kind of treatment, but it didn't mean it would hurt any less.

Because the truth is, all this time, Tara just wanted you back in her life.

---

Ringing a doorbell should be a simple task, but still, you couldn't help but stand in front of the door, second-guessing before pressing the simple buzzer.

"You know, if you want, we can turn around and leave, but we both know that's not what you want."

You sighed, turning to look at the girl beside you. Kate Bishop had her hands in the jacket pockets and displayed a fond smile on her face, which you imagined was an attempt to make you feel better.

"I hate it when you're right," you scoffed, but both of you knew your indignation was just a joke, having spent enough time together to read each other's reactions like a book.

This wasn't what you expected when you accepted the offer for a year-long study abroad program at Cambridge, but you also couldn't say you weren't satisfied with how things turned out. You didn't even know you needed this change of scenery, but it made sense after everything you had been through. You needed time away from painful memories.

The British air provided a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time, without fear of seeing familiar faces on the streets or places that would remind you of certain memories or people. Of course, good company also played a significant role.

You could hardly believe it when Kate offered to share an apartment with you near the college. She had already done so much for you, being by your side and supporting you throughout your rehabilitation process after last year's attack. You didn't want her to feel obligated to continue taking care of you.

But Kate barely listened to your concerns, saying that she needed to go to other countries to try to expand her company's contacts and that it would be good to have a roommate to share expenses (even though you were pretty sure Kate had enough money to buy three apartments in central London if she wanted to).

It was one of the best decisions you had ever made, and quickly you and Kate fell into such a comfortable rhythm that it felt like you had always lived together. Your relationship even turned romantic for a while, but it only lasted until you both realized that you were better off as friends, which was agreed upon between the two of you.

"Come on, ring that doorbell already! I'm starving!" Kate lightly pushed you, and you rolled your eyes with affection, feeling a bit less tense with your friend's moral support.

"Starving," you laughed and actually pressed the doorbell, taking a few steps back to wait for the moment the door would open. Your hands were trembling, and you felt as though you were about to sweat even though it was quite cold in New York. Of course, you missed your friends, your family, but that wasn't enough to ease your anxiety.

When the door finally opened, you were faced with Mindy Meeks-Martin, with her signature sarcastic smile and her short, curly hair reaching her chin, much longer than the last time you saw her. "Well, well. If it isn't our new European! Do you only speak with an accent now?"

"You're ridiculous." With a smile, you advanced and enveloped Mindy in a long hug that she quickly reciprocated, both feeling the longing emanating through the touch. The contact lasted for a few long seconds until you both untangled yourselves again. "I hope it's not a problem that I brought Kate along..."

"Pfft! Of course not!" Mindy waved her hand, indicating that she didn't mind the newcomer. "It's even better you brought her because I needed to thank her in person for taking care of you." She looked at Kate with a playful smile. "I think we all know our y/n is too kind to be alone in a distant country. She would try to help a stranger on the street and get kidnapped for sure."

"Hey!"

"Wow, have you heard about the time she took the wrong subway, and then..."

"Okay! Enough about my misfortune! Can we go in?" You interrupted Kate, feeling your cheeks flush a bit. Despite being slightly embarrassed, you were still happy that two important people in your life had the potential to get along, and that was all you could ask for.

Mindy made room, and finally, you entered the apartment. It was new, considering the twin and Anika had recently moved in together, and it was sparsely furnished but beautiful and comfortable enough to feel like a home. You and Kate approached, she with her hands on your back as a silent support, and you greeted your friends with enthusiasm and a longing to catch up.

Chad looked stronger than ever, and he seemed excited about both college and his part-time job as an assistant at a gym. Apparently, he got a discount for training and using the equipment and was clearly taking full advantage of it. He and Kate engaged in a conversation about diets, weights, and workouts that you honestly couldn't follow, but you were satisfied to know that they had gotten along well enough to plan to train together someday.

Anika was happy and radiant, making you laugh as she always did. She wore a cropped top, revealing the huge scar forming a line in the center of her stomach, something she seemed to wear with pride. You never expected this reaction from her; on the contrary, you had imagined that she would want to distance herself from the group, out of fear or trauma. Still, it was reassuring to see that she had stayed for Mindy. They were the kind of couple you hoped would last forever.

Sam seemed somewhat lighter since the last time you saw her, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. She was smiling, albeit not very widely, and welcomed you with a warm hug that almost made you cry with relief. Part of you always wondered if Sam was glad with your departure because of... well... your conflicts with her sister, but she seemed so happy with your presence that it was almost embarrassing that you had that thought in the first place.

And then, she came. A pair of bright brown eyes that haunted your sleep without permission. It was unfair how she looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her, as if time worked differently for her, and only for her. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart seemed to beat so fast it was about to explode.

How could it be possible that your entire system changed just by her presence? How was it possible that, with a glance, she could change your heartbeat and make your head spin like a carousel? Maybe she didn't even know she was doing it, but you couldn't comprehend why, even after so many years, your body reacted so instinctively around her.

It was almost humiliating to realize that your efforts seemed to have been in vain. You had gone to another country, met new people, explored new horizons, even had a girlfriend for a brief period. During this year, you had thought so little about Tara that you almost thought you could leave her in the past, that you had overcome your feelings, so pure but so conflicting. All of this, all this effort to come back and realize that you seemed to still be stuck in the same place, like the same foolish girl who would do anything for Tara Carpenter against your better judgment.

You could still hear her screams on that last night you had together when you thought you were going to die, and your biggest concern was that Tara had to leave that room alive. You still remembered the conversation you had before, Tara begging for your forgiveness and saying she loved you multiple times.

Those were memories that left a hole in your chest. You knew Tara had her problems, but you always lost so much when she distanced herself.

She raised her hand in an awkward greeting, and you think you gave a half-smile in response. It was too much. You were still feeling too much, and it drove you crazy. Still, you pretended everything was okay for a few moments, just not to create an uncomfortable atmosphere at the party. You talked to the others, sharing a bit of your experience in England, but your mind always unconsciously turned to Tara, analyzing her reactions and trying to read her thoughts.

Tara was quiet, maybe even quieter than you had ever seen her. You couldn't read her expressions very well, straining to see her only from the corner of your eye, but you could feel her attentive gaze on you, as if nothing in the world was as interesting as you.

Finally, you stopped talking for a while and found an excuse to leave and try to restore some of your sanity. The door to the balcony was open, and even though the view was nothing but New York's industrial buildings, the cold wind on your face helped alleviate some of the nervousness you were feeling.

A gentle touch reached your shoulder, and it was familiar enough for you to recognize the owner. Kate's image appeared by your side as she leaned on the railing, looking directly at your face in deep thought. "So?"

"I thought I had gotten over this. This is ridiculous." You responded with your head down, feeling ashamed to continue in this cycle of liking Tara Carpenter.

Kate shook her head and held your shoulder again, silently asking for your attention. "You can't control these things, you know." A second of silence passed, the faint sounds of the city serving as a soundtrack to your emotional confusion. "If it helps, she spent the whole time looking at you. She seemed... I don't know, regretful, maybe? I don't know her as well as you do."

"I don't even know if I still know her." It was a true confession. Even after everything, even the attacks and the message Tara sent you when you were leaving the country, you still weren't sure if she had the capacity to return to what she was before everything went wrong. You were afraid, and honestly, who could blame you?

While you were away, sometimes you checked your friends' Instagram, just to see what they were up to. Multiple times, the posts contained photos with Tara, and she seemed happy, maybe even lighter. You even wondered if the two of you were just destined to be apart, like a more brutal version of Romeo and Juliet.

"You're not obligated to anything, but don't you need some sort of closure?" Kate advised. "Just to move on, if that's what you really want."

"What do you mean by that?" You retorted defensively.

The blue-eyed girl smiled and shook her head slightly, as if dealing with an irritated child. "I saw how you looked at her when you arrived. I'm not saying you should do anything, especially because I have my doubts if she could really be good for you, but it's clear that you feel something for her that's bigger than you can control."

"Yeah, and that's pathetic."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I understand that your situation is complicated." Kate placed her other hand on your shoulder, now holding you face-to-face with her. "But you know you'll have to face this someday, right? Whatever the conclusion may be."

"Yeah, I know." You sighed, but eventually a smile broke through, lighting up your expression. "When did you become so wise, Bishop? Last time I saw you, you were trying to put aluminum in the microwave."

"Shut up." She grumbled while also having a smile on her face and pulled you into a hug that you didn't even know you needed. That was Kate, a warm person who always gave her best to the people she loved. You couldn't be more grateful to still have her in your life, even though your relationship didn't work out.

The affectionate moment almost made you forget your conflict. Almost.

Until the reason for all your doubts appeared standing in front of the door, staring directly at you.

Tara regretted going after you.

She should have expected, especially since you came to the party with Kate, especially because you spent this whole year living with her. But that didn't mean it hurt any less to see you embraced with her, looking so comfortable that you wouldn't need anything else in this world.

Especially if it was someone known for hurting you and breaking your heart repeatedly.

She stood there, rooted to the ground like an idiot, until you two separated and noticed her presence. When your eyes met, she looked like a deer in the headlights and immediately started stepping back, embarrassed to have been caught like that.

Tara was already planning how to hide from you for the rest of the party when Kate stopped her. "Hey! No need to leave."

The Latina girl halted her route and looked suspiciously at both of you. You didn't seem to understand the situation, just like her, but Kate seemed sure of what she was doing because she continued. "You two need to talk once and for all. No imminent death or text messages, just eye to eye."

"Kate." You called her, grabbing her arm as a form of protest. Tara couldn't help but wince when she noticed how just how much you were against the idea of being alone with her. Not that she could blame you for it.

"Thank me later." That was all the other girl responded, and with a short nod towards Tara, she returned to the living room, leaving two tormented souls by themselves on the balcony.

Tara took a few small steps forward, analyzing what your reaction would be to the proximity. You seemed to be doing your best to ignore her, looking into the distance as if there were something interesting in graffiti-covered billboards and dimly lit lamp posts. She leaned on the railing, trying at least to have a view of your face. "Sorry if I interrupted your intimate moment; I didn't mean to."

You released air through your nose, but Tara couldn't tell if it was a laugh. "You talk as if Kate and I were dating."

"And aren't you?" The younger Carpenter replied, trying to contain some of the excitement she wanted to show. That had been one of the best news she had received in a long time.

"No, not for a while. I thought you saw it on my Instagram; I unblocked you." You finally looked at her, and Tara could see that you were analyzing her, as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

"Yeah, I stopped checking a while ago. Thought maybe it would bother you."

"And it wouldn't bother me for you to say you love me and not visit me in the hospital once after almost dying in front of you? It wouldn't bother me that the only news I had from you after that was that message before I boarded the plane, since you didn't even bother to show up at the airport?"

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and she accepted each of your frustrations as a penance. God, she would probably accept a punch from you if that would make you feel better. "I had promised myself that I would only get close to you again when I was better, okay? When I sought help and there was no risk of being an idiot with you again. I didn't lie when I said I love you, and it's because I love you that I knew it was better to stay away until I could be a version of myself that would be better for you."

A minute of pure silence passed, and Tara almost thought the conversation would end there until you spoke again. "And did you? Get better, I mean."

She sighed and crossed her arms as if that made her less vulnerable. "I think so. I don't feel as much uncontrolled anger as before; I also don't feel the need to take out my frustrations in drinks or parties. It's been a while since I argued with Sam, and I think that's good for both of us. And my therapist is nice, even though he's old enough to not know what Twitter is." Tara laughed, even though she was full of anxiety bubbling inside her. "But he advised me to write, and that has helped me a lot."

You looked at her with curiosity. "Write? About what?"

"About everything." Tara shrugged, almost as if she were relaxed. "My day-to-day life, college, my friends... you. Writing makes what I feel not stay trapped inside me, so I have no reason to explode. Everyone wins with this, and I must say that my essay grades even increased after that."

A short laugh escaped your lips, and the sound made Tara minimally satisfied with herself. "You write about me?"

"Yeah, actually, most of my journals have something about you. Memories of our childhood or what I feel for you." Tara admitted, feeling her own face blush with embarassment. You didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care, because you continued to look at her very carefully. "But most of it is about things I regret. Things I said, things I did... I'm really sorry."

"I want to believe that. I mean, I believe you, I know you're not lying, but..." You placed your hands on your head and closed your eyes, your elbows resting on the railing. It seemed like you were trying to block your own thoughts. "It's all so complex, and I feel so much... pain."

"I understand. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I'm willing to spend the rest of my life apologizing if necessary." Cautiously, Tara took a few steps towards you. "But if you want me to stay away, just say the words, and I'll go."

You sighed with evident exhaustion. "Of course not, Tara."

She took a few more steps, and now her arm almost touched yours. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... do you still love me? Or do you think you could love me again someday?"

"Of course, I still love you, Tara! Don't you see that's the problem?" You moved away from the railing, raising your voice as the conversation stressed you. "I shouldn't still love you! I shouldn't still want you around! What does that say about me?"

Tara waited a few seconds until you calmed down, keeping the distance between you to avoid making you more irritated. When your breathing started to slow, she continued in a weak voice. "I hurt the person I loved most in this world. What does that say about me?"

You didn't say anything in response. She spoke again. "Why don't we make a deal?"

"A deal? About what?" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

"Let me prove that I've changed, that I've improved, that I deserve a place in your life again. We can start slowly; I won't force anything and will respect any boundaries you want." The girl pleaded, almost clasping her hands and kneeling at your feet. "And if I do anything, anything at all, that makes you uncomfortable and hurts you, I'll leave you alone forever."

"What's the point of that?"

"To stop this doubt that I know we both have. Stop us from wondering about the 'what ifs' and really put to the test if I've changed. That's what you want, isn't it? To know if there's any chance the old Tara can come back? Well, that's all I want too."

You stared at her, clear doubt and apprehension in your eyes as you thought about the presented arguments. Tara's foot tapped rapidly on the floor, demonstrating her nervousness.

A few seconds passed until you spoke again. "What does this mean for us?"

Tara's expression softened as she understood your caution. It was understandable, your fear. "I don't know, but we can find out together. Do we have a deal?"

A few more seconds, and then, a nod.

"Deal."

#scream #scream vi #scream 2022 #scream x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #scream imagine #scream movies #scream franchise #✮: 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

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spicybylerpolls · 7 months ago

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It's a shame how guarded the fandom is regarding sex. First and foremost because sex, and specifically shame around sex, is heavily, heavily tied to Mike and Will's story.

If Lucas can have a 69 sign above his head while he's sleeping, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will are having sexual dreams about each other? Especially if you ship them and acknowledge the 69 sign was obviously signaling a sexual dream?

If Lucas can have a reference to dirty magazines under his bed, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will also have dirty magazines hidden around their bedroom?

If Dustin can have a reference to masturbation, why is it so hard to believe Mike and Will are also interested in masturbation as well?

They specifically put these references in the other, ORIGINAL, party members, who are the same age as Mike and Will, while also including references for them too (that people just can't accept), signaling all these boys are starting to think about sex. The difference is, Lucas and Dustin don't have any shame surrounding who they're attracted to.

I don't know about you (however I imagine this is a common experience for many queer people) but before I accepted that I was attracted to the same sex, I'd constantly find myself watching the women in porn and consciously trying to focus on the man. I'd tell myself things like "oh - you're just interested in how your body will look when you're older" or "oh - it's normal when you watch porn" etc - basically anything to reaffirm that I wasn't gay. And this is all between ages 13-16.

This is exactly how I see Mike, specifically. Starting to notice his attraction to men but consciously repressing it, telling himself he's normal and it doesn't mean anything. And I think people forget (or maybe just feel uncomfortable talking about) this part - that the sexual attraction, the shame in the sexual attraction, is a huge, huge part of realizing you're queer and coming-of-age as a queer person.

And that's why Mike doesn't want to hug Will at the airport (or a big part of it). It feels awkward, even if he doesn't know why. It feels awkward because he feels ashamed for liking Will. I mean the first shot we get of Mike setting eyes on Will in Season 4 is of him looking at Will's chest and then quickly averting his eyes. This tells us everything we need to know - Mike is attracted to Will, feels ashamed about it and doesn't want anyone to know (or likely doesn't even fully understand it himself, but at the very least, knows it's not "right").

Point being, his shame surrounding specifically his sexual attraction to men is one of his biggest issues and failing to talk about it is a HUGE DISSERVICE to his character!

It also does a huge disservice to Will's character, too. The repercussions of this shame, a lot of the time, is Will's situation - not having your first kiss, all of your friends growing up before you, hating yourself because you have a crush on your best friend. All because he's romantically AND sexually attracted to men. This is what Will's thinking. If he wasn't such a freak, if he didn't want to kiss boys, if he wasn't starting to feel sexually attracted to men, then everything would be so much easier. He wouldn't feel like such a mistake.

This is why I think they'll absolutely have a sex scene in S5 and also why I think it will be explicit. I previously thought it'd likely be implied and that that'd be enough but I don't see it the same anymore. Now, I don't think this means it has to be racy, obviously, but just that the audience would see some of it. Quite frankly, doing an implied sex scene, while I wouldn't be dissatisfied, is a disservice to the story.

See, with Jancy, the implied sex scene works. The tension between these two characters has been building for a season and a half and we know they want to have sex. We don't have to see it, we just need to know that they do.

But with Mike and Will? That's not the case at all.

First of all, the tension has been building for 5 seasons, which is the entire series. An implied sex scene would ultimately be a tame ending to this storyline.

Second, Mike and Will specifically feel shame about this act, Jonathan and Nancy don't. We don't need to see their reaction but we need to see Mike and Will's reactions because it completes their characters. Because they have felt shame about this specific thing, not showing them feeling comfortable doing this, with each other, would be incomplete.

Third, think about Steve and Nancy's sex scene - we're shown it specifically because Nancy feels uncomfortable.

Ultimately, there's no need to show Jonathan and Nancy having sex because there's nothing left unresolved. That's what the Duffers actually get right - only showing a sex scene when it's important for the narrative and for the characters. Even Hopper and Joyce point to this, despite them being the oldest characters and the most suitable to have an explicit sex scene, opposed to Steve and Nancy. That's because there's nothing else to tell us about Joyce and Hopper through this sex scene - we know they love each other. I don't see why the Duffers would break this pattern now.

And well, even if you don't want the scene, I don't see how you could argue that the moment Mike and Will decide to have sex isn't extremely important for their characters and would tell us A LOT about how they both feel, especially Mike seeing as we don't get his perspective.

You could argue the kiss would suffice but... does it? A kiss isn't really... sexual. And Romantic, sure. But this wouldn't address the shame they specifically feel about sex. Mike starting to cry while having sex with Will tells us so much more about his character than him crying while kissing Will.

Kissing is also a thing children do. Ending a 5 season, 9 year long coming-of-age project, with two characters who have fought inter-dimensional monsters that quite literally represent their shame, simply kissing? Something we've already seen one of these characters do, multiple, multiple times?

Okay, I guess.

Anyway, I know a lot of these points have already been made, and that this was really long, but I just wanted to say them again because it upsets me so much, especially during rewatch when I see all the themes right in front of me. And I know it upsets other people, other young adults, too. Seeing this experience represented so accurately - one that you might even still feel shame about, one that you went through not too long ago - and not even being able to discuss it openly in the fandom, is sad. Being called a freak or a pedophile for simply suggesting that sex is important here and the Duffers are telling us so. Sex... the thing that literally created us all. And that almost everyone starts thinking about between the ages of 13-14.

Sigh. At least we have this blog. Thank you for that. 🫶🏼

#byler #spicy byler #mike wheeler #will byers #no poll

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notyouraryang0dd3ss · 5 months ago

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hii, ⏳️ here!! I saw your other asks about how swifties say that taylor could be killed for speaking up, as if other ppl who are not as rich as her aren't facing a lot worse, as if her life matters more, and stuff... and that is just the mindset most, if not all, swifties have. They literally think her life matters more than others.

They use this safety argument for her carbon emissions, too, saying that she could never fly economy she'd get killed 0.001 secs into the airport. She has 2 jets (last I checked, she "quietly" sold one of em and quietly bought another just after). Like. I'm so sure that the safety concern being that big is not true, first off. Secondly, can't she fly in first class?? I might be wrong, obv, but most of the ppl flying in first class are extremely rich ppl and isn't the first class mostly empty cuz no one takes it? Also, she has her entourage of bodyguards, be so fr. Also, it's up to her and her team to find a sustainable solution, not us common folks like tf.

But more importantly, even if it were completely impossible for her to travel in the same plane as us poors, without endangering her safety, swifties basically sound like "taylor swift>lives of other ppl".

Like, the top 1% and companies (which she is also a part of, btw) are mostly responsible for climate issues and global warming. They are also the ONLY ppl who have enough resources to protect themselves from any climate issue they create. They INTENTIONALLY make mistakes, and 90% of the world have to face the consequences. According to swifties, not only is that okay, but the lives of literally 8 billion ppl don't matter. Her's matters more than everyone else's, and thus, to protect taylor swift from possibly getting an inconvenience during her flight, we (and all other creatures on earth) have to pay for it with our lives.

(and before anyone says it's not that deep, it is. global warming, climate change, the state of the literal planet we live on, which is also the ONLY livable planet in the entire universe, IS that deep. It's airport security for her, disease, and death for us)

(also, I'm gonna send the link of the Palestinian woman getting doxxed by swifties once I find it)

-⏳️

I love how Swifties are going full mask off and openly admitting her life matters more than the millions of Palestinians. I understand there are #SwiftiesforPalestine actively posting online and even holding IRL protests, but when we live in this late stage capitalist world, the best protest is to divest, divest, divest, and if swifties continue to purchase her content regardless, then their protests are useless. It’s performative and they want her to perform too.

Well, the private jet controversy is more complicated than what she flies on. A lot of celebrities use private planes, either their own or rented from others, to travel so they can avoid the excess security measures and be spared harassment from public transportation sites.

What is controversial about Taylor Swift’s private jet usage is how excessive and unnecessary she is. She took a 13 minute flight from Cahokia, IL to St. Louis, MO, which would’ve been a 30 minute drive. During her US/North American leg of the tour, she would take red eye flights from tour location to known locations of her purchased homes, such as Beverly Hills, Nashville, Rhode Island (? idk where), instead of staying in a local hotel. Her flight usage is excessive and wasteful and actively endangers us through the CO2 emissions she produces by herself. Like you said: she is actively making us pay for her climate change crimes with our lives.

When New Delhi is experiencing heat waves that are pushing the brink of human survivability, its imperative that now more than ever we resist and push back against uber wealthy individuals Taylor Swift and major CO2 producers ie companies who actively accelerate contribute to irreversible climate change damage.

So yeah, if you’d rather defend the life of one woman who produces 1000x CO2 emissions of the average European, you’re telling everyone that you find the lives of billions of people in the global south, who have no infrastructure in place to protect them from climate change, that you would actively sacrifice their lives for the comfort of someone you don’t even know, and will never care about you.

#swifties are the most racist fanbase ive ever seen and no im not exaggerating #anyways anon thank you sm for sending this in #future anons if youd like to sign off with any emoji and i’ll make you a tag with it #anti taylor swift #ask #notyouraryang0dd3ss #anon #ts: carbon emissions #ts: palestine #anti swifties

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sirjaketkiszka · 2 months ago

Text

It’s a Sin: Chapter One

Priest!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

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Father forgive me, I tried not to do it… Turned over a new leaf, then tore right through it…

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Word Count: 4,811

Warnings: vague mentions of religious trauma, uneventful, and poor writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

It’s a Sin Masterpost

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The gentle melody coming from the car’s radio fades out of earshot as the view from the backseat fully encapsulates you. Dark gray, gloomy skies act as an incessant threat of the chance of rain– a common occurrence for this time of year– as the branches of the towering western hemlocks sway against the strong wind.

Passing a large sign that reads: Garden’s Gate, your eyes take in the sight before you; Various wood-built structures line cobblestone sidewalks just off the side of the poorly paved road, and small homes nestle themselves between what you assume are family-owned businesses. An assumption you make based on your previous research–

Garden’s Gate, established in the mid-1800s, holds a population of only 253. Well, 254 now. It’s heavily religious, extremely traditional, and very tight-knit. Every building is original, a well-functioning relic, and upheld by its caregivers; the citizens. You can’t lie, the town does intimidate you, especially coming in as an outsider– a non-religious outsider at that. But when you saw pictures of the town while scrolling on your laptop, you fell in love.

Just coming into view is the town’s church, the first building to be created when the town came to be. The foundation is built from local wood, chopped just mere feet away from the church itself, and it’s surrounded by scattered tombstones. The years gone by remain present on the church’s slowly rotted wood as flecks of the boards peel away from the exterior walls. Still, the church stays upright, a consequence of minute renovations that strayed away from disturbing its original composition.

An arched, intricately engraved brown door represents a stark contrast compared to the withered appearance, and similarly, arched stained glass windows take their place on either side. Just above the entrance is a circular window, the panes reminiscent of a daisy, and above that is a smaller square window. A bell hangs from the rooftop of the church, encased by sturdy pillars that uphold the cross.

The outdated taxi turns onto a gravel driveway, just a quarter of a mile long and directly across from the church you’ve been admiring, and leading to your new home. When the grumbling crunch of the rough pebbles begins to slow, and the tires come to a halt, you nearly jump out of the cab. The driver plasters on a polite smile, putting the car in park and exiting to retrieve your bags from the trunk.

“Please, let me get that,” You insist, rushing to his side and peeling your eyes away from the beautifully built cottage before you. The both of you fumble to lift the heavy luggage from the car, an exaggerated oof punching from your lungs when you set the suitcase on the damp ground. When the driver gently places your smaller bag on top, you graciously thank him, handing him the hefty toll that accumulated from your journey from the nearest airport; over an hour away.

As the faded yellow car turns around and descends the long, winding driveway, your feet stay planted, your eyes frantically observing the exterior of the house; it’s quaint with tall windows and deep green grass crawling along the layered stone skirt of the structure. The worn paint is off-white, but chipping off in various places, and the roof is harboring a light fuzz of growing moss, a result of the constant dew blanketing over the town. You love it.

Slinging your small carry-on over your shoulder, and firmly gripping the handle of your overweight luggage, you trek across the scattered stone path leading to the front steps. The two short steps creak and groan under your own weight and the added load. As far as you know, the house has remained unoccupied for years but was taken care of by members of the local church.

So, when you lift the dingy doormat inches away from your feet, retrieve the house key, and open the door with an agonizingly loud rasp, you’re surprised to see how well-kept the interior is. Any leftover furniture is covered with discolored bedsheets, and there’s a lack of dust that you expected to see when first entering.

Somehow, the inside of the house is eerily more cold than outside, causing goosebumps to pepper along your skin. The air is stagnant, just the tiniest specks of dust floating past your line of sight, and like the steps leading up to the door, the stained pine hardwood floors squeak beneath you.

“Just needs a little love,” You sigh, surveying the open living room. It seems as though the only furniture left that isn’t yours is the used leather couch, the oval-shaped coffee table a couple of feet from it, and a large, empty bookshelf that resides to the left of the room. All the other furniture, however, is yours– delivered just the day before by a moving company you hired. Was it smart to tell them where the key was so they could go in without you? Probably not, but nothing seems out of place or alarming.

While it’s the middle of the day, the murky sky prohibits any ray of sun from shining through, resulting in the dimly lit space in front of you. Thankfully, the light switch is beside the door, and you flick it upward; though, it doesn’t do much.

There was very little information online about the house you stand in, and all you know is that it was built not long after the town originated. It still has its original flooring, the same awful wallpaper installed in the 1970s, and turns out, the later-added light fixtures from the mid-1900s.

Finished with your gawking, you drag your hefty suitcase into the house, pass the threshold, and leave it leaning against the wall with the smaller bag. As you step further inside, you notice the layout; the kitchen is to the right of the first floor, a large cut-out space in the dividing wall allows a look out into the living room, and there is no dining room, just a spot big enough for a dining table in the corner of the kitchen.

The kitchen is small, but big enough for just you. Due to previous renovations, polished sandy stone counters lay upon dark mahogany wood cabinets. It’s not a look you would usually go for, and it’s certainly not your taste, but that was a problem for later, you ultimately decide. Thankfully, a gas stove and rundown refrigerator are provided with the house, although you’re not entirely sure how well they work. The refrigerator hasn’t been plugged in for however long, and you’re extremely relieved to see that the shelves are spotless and no lingering smell wafts from it when you cautiously swing the door open.

Taking in the final sweep of the kitchen, you notice a packed box labeled “Bedroom: second floor” is set on the counter beside the built-in sink, most likely forgotten by the movers. You lift the decently heavy box with a quick huff and haul it to the stairs to the left of the living room. Carefully looking over the box, you ascend the stairs and are met with a slim hallway, consisting of three doors; your bedroom, the bathroom, and a smaller room, which will most likely be your hobby room.

The bedroom door is left open, allowing you to shuffle into the bland room without struggling with the doorknob. Setting the box onto your bare mattress, it bounces against the plush material, nearly falling over the edge. An exasperated huff rushes past your lips as you plant your hands on your hips, spinning in a slow 360 while your eyes scan the room; The walls are a beautiful shade of sage green– a consequence of the previous tenant– and the floors match the dark red mahogany of the kitchen cabinets. Now this, you wouldn’t change.

Moving boxes littered the hardwood floors, most of them piling up in the farthest corner, acting as a reminder of the extensive work you have ahead of you; unpacking.

You must’ve spent hours just unpacking the boxes belonging to your room– going back and forth on what should be placed where and if you should hang your clothes or fold them into the dresser. Needless to say, these are very important decisions. And with important decisions, came great hunger pains.

“My goodness,” You mumble under your breath, checking the digital clock you unpacked and noticing that the last time you ate was just before your flight. Eight hours ago. Needing a break, you lift from your seated position on your bedroom floor and stretch, letting out an obnoxious groan at the sensation of your joints cracking and back arching out of your previous slouch.

You figure now’s as good a time as any to explore the town, and it’s definitely not because you have no food. On any other day, you would cook. In fact, you love it. The art of cooking felt calming for you, but it’s only something you do as a hobby. It stays sacred that way. Had you pursued it as a career, it would’ve been tainted. Not done purely for enjoyment, but out of obligation.

Either way, you need to eat now. Your stomach growls and cramps at the mere thought of food, and your arms instinctively wrap around your torso for a sense of relief. Where can I eat? What can I eat? You don’t know the town well enough, but perhaps walking down the vacant streets will lead you to a restaurant, or a store, of some sort.

Loud footsteps echo through your house as you saunter down the aged steps of the staircase, your exhaustion and hunger forcing you to move at a leisurely rate. Unsure of the early evening weather, you grab your jacket that hangs on the coat rack by the door anyway, pushing your arms through the thick sleeves and leaving the front open.

Just as you expected, the early October air nips at your face the moment you open the front door, the tip of your nose immediately reddening and cheeks turning rosy from the harsh cold. In your hometown, it’d still be decently warm, probably in the low-70s, but you relished in the colder months. You always look forward to wearing your plethora of knitted sweaters, warm leggings, and chunky boots.

The hinges of the door screech behind you as it shuts, and you turn to lock it, pocketing the key and walking down the ridged path ahead of you.

It’s a short walk, and it’s nearly a ghost town. In the five minutes it takes you to walk to the main road, cross it, and enter the town, you have yet to see a single soul. The uncomfortable atmosphere reminds you of an episode of The Twilight Zone. Actually, the very first episode of The Twilight Zone… Small town. Completely alone.

Your inner monologue nearly leads you to run back home, but you push through, realizing how ridiculous the thought is. As you step into civilization, if you could call it that, you do notice the silhouette of store clerks passing in your peripheral as you search the store signs. Phew.

The stores are decently spaced apart, and some of the elderly structures are homes of the town residents. The uneven cobblestone sidewalk urges you to walk cautiously as you admire the historical details, reading the signs as you stroll by;

Bank. Very thorough.

Seamstress. Not quite it.

Antiques. The whole town is one.

Bakery. Perfect!

The bakery sports large windows displaying their baked goods, and the sight of them causes your stomach to grumble. Your hand impatiently wraps around the store’s doorhandle, swinging it open, and making the bell above it ring. The interior isn’t very well-lit, like most things here, apparently. There’s a total of three tables in the dining area, each with two seats, and a large L-shaped counter that houses all of the pastries.

Hungry eyes scan the abundance of food, probably enough to feed the whole town, you assume, until they land on the cashier. She stands behind the glass counter, a large outdated cash register stationed in front of her. You can tell by the look on her face that she knows you’re not from here, and despite her customer service smile, she’s wary. To dilute the tension, you smile, stepping up to the register.

“Hi, there,” Your voice rang out louder than you expected, and you may have freaked her out even more.

“Hi,” She pauses, her voice reflecting her concern, “Um– What can I help you with?”

“Well, I just moved here,” You explain, and the tension in her stiff shoulders falters for a moment, “So, I’m not sure what to get, what do you suggest?” Maybe asking her for her opinion would ease her anxiety, and it seems to work.

“Oh!” She perks up, eyeing the pastries through the glass and pointing, “You’ll love our housemade muffins. Any flavor, really.”

“I’ll take one of each flavor then,” Your insatiable hunger does the talking for you, but you know you’ll eat the rest later. You have quite the sweet tooth, and sure, you should be eating a “real” meal, but– you have no excuse.

“Perfect,” She smiles, genuinely this time, as she places each flavor into a medium-sized box; Blueberry, chocolate chip, banana nut, poppy seed, and cinnamon crumble. Yum. Setting the box on the counter beside the register, she rings you up, stating your total as you happily hand her your card, “So, you’re the one who bought the house across the church.” She states. It’s not a question. You guess your move was the talk of the tiny town. There’s no surprise there.

“Word gets around, huh?” You chuckle, taking back your card when she hands it to you.

“Well,” She chuckles as well, insinuating that of course word gets around in a town with a population below 300. “We didn’t think it would ever sell. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! It’s just that newcomers aren’t very common, you know?”

“I figured,” Your tone is understanding as you shrug, grabbing the box off the counter, and the decent weight of the baked goods surprises you. The cashier offers you a gracious smile as you thank her for her help, spinning on the heels of your feet and heading for the door. Your hand stalls on the doorknob, and you turn to look at her, “I’m sorry, what’s your name? I could use a familiar face around here.”

“Sara! Without the H,” Her cheerful voice carries across the small bakery like she’s relieved that you asked, and it makes you feel warm, “What’s yours?”

When you answer, she repeats your name back to herself as a reminder and waves you off, calling out to you to let her know how you like the muffins. You didn’t go into town expecting to make any friends so soon, but you’re sure glad you did.

Rushing home, your eyes focus on the moving ground beneath your feet; bulky stones make your steps wobbly, and you’re careful not to trip. Unlike your short journey into town, it feels as though the walk back takes an eternity due to pure impatience.

The crisp air pinches your skin as you work against the breeze, your eyes looking both ways down the entirely empty road as you cross it. The wet gravel shifts under your feet as you stomp up your driveway and finally approach your home. Though, at the moment, it feels like just a house. Vacant, void of fond memories, and any familiarity.

You ultimately decide eating alone at your thrifted dining room table feels too depressing, so you settle for the slightly damp front door steps. Plopping down, the light layer of moisture soaks into your pants, and you squirm at the feeling.

“Gross,” You grumble, your hands fidgeting with the folding lid of the paper box. When you flip the top open, you’re face to face with five large muffins, all delicately handcrafted and baked to perfection. The uncomfortable feeling underneath you becomes a distant thought as you grab the blueberry muffin with two hands, letting the box balance on your legs. You waste no time bringing the fluffy baked good to your mouth, your lips parting and teeth flashing to consume a substantial bite.

The sweetness coats your tongue and an exaggerated groan leaves your throat as you chew slowly, your teeth crushing the shriveled blueberries. You’re not sure if this is the best muffin you’ve ever had, or if you’re just really hungry. Though, it didn’t matter. If the bakery did a blueberry muffin this well, the rest had to be held to the same standard, you hope.

So, for the next five minutes, you take a bite from each muffin, eyes nearly rolling back at the taste of each one. If you really wanted to, you could finish all five right this second because of your persistent hunger, but you’ll show restraint… For now.

Just as you’ve circled back to the blueberry muffin, you notice a line of people waiting outside the church just across the street. It’s not Sunday. You thought to yourself as your eyebrows furrowed, watching as a priest opened the doors to the church, welcoming the group of church-goers in. The amount isn’t large, maybe ten people, but you keep watching intently. They’re too far to hear, and even to see clearly, so you assume that the priest is thanking each member for coming with every vague nod of his head.

You’re unable to get a good look at the priest, but from your seated position, he looks young. Squinting your eyes, you’re only able to make out that he has long hair, and is average height. His features are blurred as a result of the distance, and you find yourself wanting to wander over there just to see him. Something about his presence is alluring.

Once you think you’ve had enough of the food in front of you, you close the box and stand, your eyes still drawn to the church. You aren’t religious, not at all, but the concept intrigues you. Devoting your life to a person, or people, you’re not confident exist. Believing in something greater as a sense of comfort. You admire it. But, you also despise it.

Reemerging suppressed memories cause you to zone out, planted where you stand on the last step of your small porch. The silence morphs into whispered echoes of your childhood, and your hands absently squeeze around the delicate box.

The kids exiting the church hurled overplayed insults at you. None you haven’t heard before. If anything, you wished they were more creative. You couldn’t lie, though, it all hurt the same.

A single drop of rain pulls you from your recollection as your eyes frantically blink, realizing you’re staring down the church, the priest looking directly at you through fickle raindrops. Still, you can’t make out any defining features, and he seems to be struggling with the same predicament. The line of people has filed into the ancient building, but he stands there, looking at you.

Not bothering to acknowledge him, you turn around and step up to your door, quickly unlocking it and stepping inside before the rain becomes a consistent downpour.

The sight of your disorganized living room and kitchen causes an irritated exhale to exit your lungs. That would have to be a problem for tomorrow since the comforting sound of speckled rain on your lanky windows pulls a yawn from you. The day wears on you– traveling, unpacking, a bit of exploring– it all takes a toll on you.

Your feet drag as you set the half-eaten muffins on the kitchen counter, and you lazily complete your nighttime routine, having to actively pull from boxes to find what you need. You figure a lot of your unpacking will play out that way; you needing something, then having to search for it, and inevitably unpacking the rest in the process.

Usually, you’d struggle with falling asleep in an unfamiliar environment, but the moment your head hits the pillow, your heavy eyelids blind you. Your breathing evens, your body falls limp, and your features soften in restful bliss.

“You shouldn’t let their words bother you, baby,” Your mom swept the hair sticking to your tear-stained cheeks away and cradled your face in the palm of her hands.

“They kept talking about you,” You sniffled, looking her in the eyes with shame, “They said mean things.” Your voice came out in a whisper, and she sighed.

“Do you want to know why?”

A knock at your door causes you to shoot up from your lying position and a startled gasp expands your lungs as you bend at the waist with your blankets pooling around you. Your sleep-ridden eyes move around the room, remembering where you are, and that yes, you did move into a new house. Most of the empty boxes have been moved to the hallway, and the rising sun casts a soft light across your bed sheets. Looking at the clock on your otherwise bare nightstand, it’s still relatively early, 7 o’clock to be exact, and you aren’t expecting any visitors.

The lack of central heat sends a chill down your stiff spine as you search for your robe hanging in the nicely sized-closet. Wrapping the warm, soft garment around your trembling frame, you head downstairs where the knocking continues for the second time.

“Coming!” You call out, hopefully loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear.

Through the stained glass, you see a dark figure standing on the steps, their head rotating and looking around the outside of your house. You pause for a moment before opening the door, the bright contrast of outside piercing your dim-adjusted eyes, causing you to squint to focus. When your gaze finally lands on the man in front of you, you realize it’s the priest from yesterday.

As you had guessed previously, he’s of average height and has long, wavy hair that has grown just below his shoulders. The ends of his chestnut hair are thinned out, but it holds decent volume as it swoops into a side part, likely a consequence of his hands running through it. His face is chiseled, his high cheekbones prominent through his hollow cheeks, and his jawline is well defined. A light purple hue swatches underneath his eyes, emphasizing their captivating auburn shade of brown, and his blush pink lips quirk in a friendly smirk. He’s young, probably around your age, and it surprises you.

He’s wearing all black– a long sleeve button-up, paired with his clerical collar, and a pair of jeans that are a slightly lighter shade of black compared to the rest of his outfit. Over everything, he’s wearing a black petticoat that stops right at his knees, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

“Uh– Hi, can I help you?” You ask, still holding onto the door, and shielding half of your body.

“Hello, I’m Father Jacob Thomas Kiszka,” His voice is surprisingly smooth, and your heart quickens a beat, “I haven’t had the chance to properly introduce myself.” He smiles, pulling his hand from his pocket and holding it out for you to shake. His fingers are lengthy, and his hands are quite veiny, and they curl around your hand gently when you accept the handshake. His palm is warm, and incredibly soft as his semi-firm grip bobs your guys’ hands up and down.

“It’s no problem,” You dismiss while releasing his hand and letting yours awkwardly hang beside you when his lingering warmth melts away, “I only got here yesterday.”

“That’s right,” His smile falters a little, falling into a permanent content smirk, “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Not at all,” You lie through a clenched smile, suddenly very aware of the state of your house, and you, “Can I fix you a cup of coffee?” You ask while stepping aside, letting him cross the threshold. When he slides past you, his overpowering scent floats just beneath your nose as you breathe in. The breeze in his wake smells strongly of cinnamon, a mixture of other rich spices, and musk. You find yourself breathing in again, holding the scent in your lungs like a drag from a cigarette.

Shutting the door behind him as he graciously smiles at you, his eyes wander around the still-covered furniture in the living room, and the boxes piled along the walls. Heat creeps up your neck, embarrassment burning in your gut from the mess.

“I’m okay,” He finally answers, turning to you with that perpetual smirk.

“Suit yourself,” You shrug, disappearing into the kitchen. The coffee maker is stashed away in one of the boxes, and you don’t plan on searching for it now, but you need an excuse to step away. Your hands fly to your frizzy hair as you roughly brush out any kinks with your fingers, and you rub the remaining sleep from your eyes. Had you expected company, you would’ve looked somewhat presentable, but you haven't been granted that pleasure.

When you reappear in the living room, he immediately turns to you, both hands back in his pockets. His presence is slightly offputting, though you’re not entirely sure why. Despite his average size, his vitality consumes the space surrounding him, including yourself.

“I apologize if I’ve woken you up,” He speaks, his eyes discreetly glancing over you, “I understand that it’s early.”

“Please, it’s okay,” You wave a hand at him, “I was already awake.” Another lie.

“Right,” He chuckles, and it’s apparent that he knows you’re lying, “I won’t be long– I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“I appreciate that, Father,” You smile at his welcoming words, and for a moment, his body language is conflicting. He’s contemplating something, and you’re eager to know what it is.

“May I ask, do you attend church, Miss…” Oh. That question. It’s not your first time hearing it, and honestly, you expected it, especially from him. The end of his last word drags out as he waits for you to introduce yourself, something you forgot to do when he did so himself.

You answer quickly, stating your first and last name, but insisting that he calls you by your first. “Miss” felt too formal. You are anything but formal. “I can’t say that I do,” You answer his question truthfully, and you don’t miss how disappointment radiates off his stature.

“That’s a shame,” His words alone sound harsh, but his tone is discouraged, and you know he doesn’t mean it the way it came out. “I’m sure you can tell, but this town, the people, are very… devout. I figured I’d ask,” A pause, “Perhaps, if you’d like, you could join us.” His insinuation feels like a punch in the gut, and you hate to have to reject his offer, but attending church is out of the question.

“That’s a lovely offer, Father,” You say sincerely, and the shift in his demeanor indicates that he already knows you’re going to decline, “But I’ll have to turn you down on that, I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” He waves you off now, his eyebrows furrowing at the increasing concern on your features. You hate saying no to people, and somehow, rejecting a priest’s offer for you to come to his church feels even worse. “Just thought I’d ask,” He shrugs, offering you a flash of a closed-mouth smile.

“Alright,” An uncomfortable silence falls in the space between you two, and his gaze lingers on yours for a moment longer.

“Anyway,” He clears his throat, eyes shifting from yours, “I should get out of your hair– let you get settled in.”

“Of course,” You step toward the door, opening it for him and watching as he steps back outside, turning to face you, “Thanks for stopping by, Father.”

“It was a pleasure,” Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, and you feel guilty for silently wishing he’d say it again, “I’ll see you around.”

Watching as he turns around, you observe how he strides down the stone path, his hair swaying with every swift step and broad shoulders mimicking the movement. Unable to look away, you keep your eyes on him until he’s disappeared into the church, not sparing another glance in your direction. You still feel as though you’re not completely awake, and your strange, brief interaction with Father Jacob only solidifies the contemplation of whether you’re dreaming.

An unexplainable and nagging feeling settles in your gut, but you choose to ignore it, chalking it up to built-up stress. Closing your door, you face the surplus of labor scattered across the living room and kitchen. Procrastination calls to you, but you refrain.

“Let’s get this over with.”

+++++++++++++++

A new Jake fic, hurray! I hope you all enjoyed chapter one <3

I’ve been waiting to write this since the idea came to me in a dream, oddly enough. Much love!!

+++++++++++++++

Taglist:

@musicislove3389 @fleetingjake @peaceloveunitygvf @dancingcarbon

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Tags:

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiskza x reader #jacob thomas kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiska fic #jake kiskza smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake x reader #priest jake kiszka #greta van smut #greta van fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fluff

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tspud-screenshots · 4 months ago

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intro

Hello! Do you need screenshots of TSPUD but don't have the game or no-clip? Do you need a specific angle or screenshot of a specific part of the game that is usually glossed over in videos or images? Send a request either in submissions or the inbox and I will do my best to provide it!

RULES:

Mod is a college student, Please be patient if you submit a request! This blog is meant to help provide resources and references so I may take time in answering your ask/submission

Inbox and Submissions must be about TSPUD only. I may occasionally speak about other things related to the game, but this blog is mainly for screenshots of the game.

The Half-Life 2 Stanley Parable Mod, The Stanley Parable Demo, and The Stanley Parable HD Remaster (2013) are available for screenshots as well. If you want a screenshot from those games then please specify, if not I'll be going with Ultra Deluxe.

While I can't access Ultra Deluxe's assets, I can direct you to certain assets that I may have on hand from the one steam guide with a few assets uploaded to imgur. Feel free to ask about those as well as assets from the HL2 Mod, the Demo, and the HD Remake.

Common courtesy always applies. Homophobic/Transphobic/Sexist/Racist messages in reblogs, replies, asks, or in submissions will not be tolerated.

I may make mistakes in getting certain screenshots. Please be patient with me as I can't get the exact screenshot you may need.

Feel free to provide references for the screenshots you want which require perspective and positioning. (Keep references PG and SFW)

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST: (Updated August 31st)

Locations

Not-Stanley Boss' Office

Meeting Room

Broom Closet

Bucket Apartment Ending (P1) (P2)

Mind Control Facility Cameras (P1) (P2) (P3)

Warehouse

Starry Dome and Zending Stairs

Employee Lounge

Hallway Leading to the Employee Lounge (Rooms Only)

Assets

Computer Head Art from the Stanley Parable 2 Expo Office

Characters

Stanley (Not-Stanley Ending)

Mariella (Insanity/Dream Ending)

Watching/Airport Man (Bucket Elevator Ending/Bucket Quiz Ending)

The Bucket (With Stickers) (Beginning office pre!Two-Doors)

Employee Numbers

063

126

159

253

307

420

Misc.

Lighting Differences between Source and Unity

#tsp #tspud #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tspud fandom #tsp fandom #blog intro

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sinnnieren · 2 months ago

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Shippy First Meetings

[ Marriage Talks ] Our muses are of traditional, powerful families, that treat marriage like a business deal. We were raised into that. We are meeting for the first time while our parents discuss the details...

[ Wrong Revenge ] One of us keyed the other's car... thinking it's the car of someone we actually wanted to get revenge on. Oops...

[ Party Puppy ] We ended up on the same party, and both of us stopped caring for said party when we found the puppy of the host, so we are taking turns petting and snuggling it and chat why us introverts ended up in this place

[ Scammed ] Both of us were scammed, both of us bought an apartment/house and went through everything, money gone... seller too... and both of us with the house key... until all is solved we must live together

[ Coffee Shop Chaos ]: Our muses bump into each other at a busy coffee shop, causing one of us to spill our drink all over the other. It’s an embarrassing first meeting, but as we help each other clean up, we strike up a conversation that neither of us expected.

[ Forced Lab Partners ]: In a college or work setting, our muses are paired together as lab partners for a major project. We’ve never really spoken before, and our personalities clash at first, but as we spend more time together, we start to see each other in a different light.

[ Mistaken Identity ]: One of us mistakes the other for a blind date they were supposed to meet. After the confusion is cleared up, instead of parting ways, we decide to spend the evening together anyway, leading to an unexpectedly enjoyable night.

[ The Elevator Incident ]: Our muses get stuck in an elevator together during a power outage. At first, we’re both frustrated and anxious, but as time passes, we start to open up about our lives and connect in a way neither of us anticipated.

[ Bookstore Browsing ]: We meet in a small, cozy bookstore, both reaching for the same rare book at the same time. What starts as a playful argument over who gets to buy it turns into a deep conversation about our shared love of literature.

[ The Wrong Suitcase ]: Our luggage gets mixed up at the airport, and we don’t realize it until we’re far from the terminal. Forced to meet up to exchange bags, we end up spending the day together, discovering we have more in common than just a suitcase mix-up.

[ The Rescue ]: One of us rescues the other from an awkward or uncomfortable situation—maybe an unwanted advance at a bar or a public speaking disaster. Grateful for the help, the rescued muse offers to buy the other a drink or coffee as a thank you, leading to more than just a quick chat.

[ Midnight Grocery Run ]: Both of us find ourselves at the grocery store late at night, the only two customers in the place. We keep running into each other in different aisles, eventually leading to shared laughter over our mutual insomnia and odd food choices.

[ The Lost Pet ]: One of us has lost a pet, and the other finds it. When we meet up for the pet’s return, we end up talking for hours, bonded by our shared love for animals and the strange circumstances that brought us together.

[ The Wedding Crashers ]: We’re both attending a wedding where we don’t really know anyone—either as plus-ones or distant acquaintances. We find each other at the bar, and after some awkward small talk, decide to team up to survive the rest of the event together.

[ Crash ] The limo of one of our muses crashes into the other muse, no real harm done but the muse who owned the limo decides to take the other under their wing as apology

#rp meme #roleplay meme #first meeting meme #shipping meme #au meme

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mikhailwrites · 1 year ago

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Remotely Possible / Ghost x Soap

Short fic inspired by a recent Patreon art from Umikochan where Soap gets to have a sort of remote control for Ghost (you can guess where this is going). It's a stub, might or might not add a second chapter eventually.

Ghost's face is unreadable, a deceptively blank canvas adorned with scars, thin lips, blond eyebrows, and surprisingly cold brown eyes. His voice rumbles low and gravelly as he firmly dismisses Soap's idea with an emphatic "Absolutely not" before returning to the stack of documents that must be done by tomorrow morning.

Soap isn't so easily discouraged. Persistence has served him well in the past, particularly with Ghost. Moreover, he is reasonably sure Ghost is actually intrigued.. The only thing holding the Lieutenant back is discipline and, well... common sense. Johnny slips in behind Ghost, placing both hands on his broad shoulders as he leans in close. "'Fraid ye wouldn't last, LT?"

"You're not going to taunt me into it, Johnny," Ghost replies, attempting to ignore him. The tension in his muscles under Johnny's touch tells a different story.

Soap's hands move lower, sneaking around Ghost's neck in an intimate embrace. "Fine. How about a trade, then?"

Ghost hums, contemplating the offer. "Depends."

Soap thinks it over. It won't come cheap, so the only question is, how badly does he want this?

"An eye for an eye. You let me do this, and I'll let you do the same," Soap finally proposes.

"Deal," Ghost's agreement comes quickly enough to make Soap wonder if he's just made a mistake. Not that he can back out now. Even if his pride would allow it (unlikely), Ghost wouldn't.

It's early, too early for Soap's liking. He yawns openly, not bothering to stifle it. Price shoots him a disapproving look, and Gaz mirrors the same disapproval as he himself yawns and remarks, "Can't you control yourself? It's contagious." Soap shrugs, taking a sip of the mediocre coffee. His other hand discreetly slips into his pocket, searching for the button on a small remote. The moment he presses it, Ghost, who had been utterly motionless until now, jerks as if something had bitten him.

Every pair of eyes in the room instantly fixate on him, but Ghost simply shifts in his chair, appearing as detached from the rest of the room as ever. The briefing isn't all that important, certainly not enough to justify a morning meeting this early. Usually, Soap would complain about it, but today, he has a remote control for Ghost in his pocket. Well, sort of, and only for a single day, but he plans to make the most of it.

Price continues to brief them about the layout and potential hotspots in Al Mazrah. Soap already knows all of it, as does Gaz, and Ghost has been deployed there too many times not to be intimately familiar with the place. The only ones who genuinely need this briefing are the Marines, about half a dozen squeezing around the table. They'd be much more comfortable if they were willing to sit closer to Ghost.

Soap discreetly taps the control in his pocket once more. Above the button is a slider. Carefully, he nudges it up a notch. Ghost shifts once more, clearing his throat to mask a sound that's less innocent, perhaps. The corner of Soap's mouth twitches. He's feeling powerful and smug. He's also turned on.

Price raises an eyebrow, glancing up from the map on the table. "Do you have anything to add, Ghost?"

"The airport. It's obviously the best spot for exfil," Ghost begins, even though Soap is quite sure he hadn't planned on saying anything. The slider goes up again. Ghost stills, his gasp audible even through the balaclava. However, he manages to collect himself enough to finish the sentence at least. It's impressive, really. "The enemy would expect it. We should use the quarry instead."

"Yes, I was just getting to that, Lieutenant. Are you feeling alright?" Price frowns, clearly running through a hundred scenarios in his mind to explain what's happening. Soap would be willing to bet that none of them would involve Ghost having a remotely controlled plug up his arse.

Ghost's reply is clipped, his voice slightly strained. "Solid, sir."

Soap can barely contain his grin. This is an absolute treat.

His amusement is rudely interrupted as he feels a hand gripping his forearm. "What the hell is going on?" Gaz whispers into his ear. Soap carefully takes the control out of his pocket and opens his palm under the table for Gaz to see. It takes all of two seconds before the puzzled look shifts into one of utter shock and soon after into a full-blown smirk. "You've got to be kidding, mate." Soap doesn't respond, not in words, anyway. Instead, he pushes the slider another two notches up.

Both Sergeants watch as Ghost grips the edge of the table while his other hand discreetly moves between his legs. "Can't believe he'd let you do that, absolute madman!" Gaz whispers, unfortunately not quietly enough.

"You, too, have something to add, Sergeant Garrick?" the tone is sharp. Their Captain has apparently had enough of interruptions.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir!" Gaz straightens up, doing his best to appear apologetic.

The debriefing wraps up, and the Marines stick around to go over the maps a bit longer. Ghost slips out like a shadow, making a quick exit without raising any suspicion. Gaz struggles to stifle a chuckle, while Soap does his utmost to look utterly bored as he rises from his seat and trails after his Lieutenant.

Unfortunately for him, Ghost is just too damn good at what he does. As Soap passes by a door marked as a storage room, it swings open, and he can't help but let out a startled yelp as he's forcefully dragged inside. Instincts honed by rigorous training kick in, prompting Soap to try and elbow the assailant, but his efforts are met with rough resistance. The resulting hollow thud echoes through the cramped space as Soap's back hits the wall. A strong forearm presses against his neck, and Soap realises it's best to give up any struggle. Simultaneously, he identifies the threat.

Well, perhaps this whole scheme wasn't such a grand idea after all.

“You smug little shit,” Ghost growls, his voice low and dangerous. He sounds breathless. Soap, somewhat belatedly, also realises that Simon is pressed up against him way more than necessary. The outline of Ghost's hard prick he feels against his thigh is a welcomed bonus. Soap was never quite right in his head, so he takes advantage of Simon’s distraction to subtly touch the controller through the fabric of his pants. He has no way of knowing which way is up, and he’s much less precise. He has no idea what’s going to happen.

Simon shudders against him, dropping his forearm from Soap’s throat as his head falls into the junction between Johnny’s neck and shoulder. He moans into Soap’s tee as he grinds against his thigh. Soap smiles, deeming the situation safe enough to hold Simon close. He also adjusts his leg to provide better friction.

Ghost’s breath is hot and moist against Soap’s neck; the edges of the skull mask scrape him a bit, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind now is how much he wants to find out if Simon can come like this.

Simon’s movements quicken. Soap’s had his fair share of uncomfortable boners in jeans, and with the force Ghost is putting into it, it must be borderline painful. There’s no stopping Simon, though, and Soap doesn’t even try.

Simon’s grip on Johnny tightens to the point of bruising. Soap doesn’t as much as wince; his full attention is on Ghost and the way his hips stutter and his breath comes in ragged gasps. Johnny knows Simon well enough to sense how close he is. The way his body tenses and he grows quieter as every ounce of his consciousness turns inward, entirely focused on that one last thread holding him back from completely breaking.

The moment the thread snaps, Ghost stops breathing. He thrusts a few times before going completely limp in Soap’s arms. Johnny might be a bit of a bastard, but he’s not cruel, so he fishes the remote out of his pocket and turns it off. Simon lets out a long, shuddering breath.

They stand there for a few minutes. Ghost is boneless, resting his full weight against Johnny.

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbles quietly. Johnny only hears him because he’s so close. It doesn’t sound pissed, so Soap dares to hope he’ll live to fight another day. Ghost peels himself off Soap and does his best to make himself look at least decent enough to make a short trip to the barracks and his room. “Are you going to come with me to collect the damn thing?”

“What do you mean? It’s still early in the morning; we’ve got a whole day ahead of us, LT,” Soap offers him his sweetest smile. “That was the deal, remember? A day.” The way Ghost’s eyes widen triggers something in Soap. Something a little bit wicked. “Unless you want to call it off?”

He can see the moment Ghost commits to it, his shoulders squaring and his hands flexing at his sides. “Not a chance, Johnny.” He leans in, his voice quiet and measured. “I’m looking forward to your end of the deal. Gonna make you scream, sweetheart.”

Coming from Ghost, the pet name sounds more like a threat than an endearment. And Johnny would be lying if he said he doesn’t like it.

#call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #soap mw2 #ghoap

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bekolxeram · 1 month ago

Note

do you have a final theory on how the 802/803 disaster plays out before the premiere?

Hmm... one single theory, that's difficult. I usually operate on evidence. Not because I think it's superior or anything, but I lack imagination so I rely on visual cues. Also I'm an easily swayed coward, so I never commit to one single theory.

For now, I think the accident itself will pan out just like Airport 1975, a small private aircraft colliding with a commercial airliner, incapacitating the pilots. But I really hope it doesn't end the same way on 911.

The major gripe I have with Airport 1975, or the entire Airport series as a whole, is that its female characters only play supporting roles to the males characters, or worse, being damsels in distress. Nancy the stewardess somehow manages to keep her cool and slowly figure out how to operate the plane's radio communication and keep the plane relatively stable in the air, with the help of autopilot. Yet, at the end, it's still the boyfriend she was trying to dump who performs a daring stunt, drops into the cockpit from a helicopter and saves everyone like a hero. Nancy doesn't even help once Murdock settles into the pilot seat.

I've seen plenty of aviation disaster movies with male pilots making mistakes, then different male pilots saving the day. Not once have I seen a female pilot even participating in saving the plane. I think it's time. I really hope Athena would be helping the female captain we see in the trailer with landing the plane. Maybe the captain is too injured to fly the plane herself so she has to make do with verbally instructing Athena?

Lone Star dramatized a real life aviation accident in 3x08. I understand it's an episode about Gwen and TK, but I just think it's a missed opportunity not telling the story of the flight crew. The SW1380 captain was one of the first female fighter jet pilots serving the US Navy. Women were still excluded from flying combat missions during her time there, so she instructed other Navy pilots instead for missions in Iraq. Her first officer on that Southwest flight was an equally accomplished male former Air Force pilot, and he expressed different opinions at times during the accident, but at the end of the day, the 2 pilots respected each other and in a perfect showcase of crew resource management, they landed the 737 safely as a team. The captain even made a super daring flaps 5 high speed approach to get the jet down as fast as possible.

It's probably not the answer you're looking for, anon, but I really hope the S8 opening disaster would be Airport 1975, with a 911 twist. If there's one thing in common about first responders and aviation, it's the importance of team work. In both industries, trying to fly solo and play hero would most likely get people killed instead of saving them.

#ask answered #911 speculation #911 spoilers

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iceprincessviviane · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 2 - The arrival.

Heritage series.

Paring: poly!BTS (demons) x Female!Shy!Skinny!Chosen!reader

Type: dark romance, horror au, soulmate au, poly relationship, slowburn, yandere.

Warnings: Horror themes, some religion themes (mostly demonic), gore, blood, manipulation, witchcraft, magic themes, death (side characters), mentionings of forced marriage, mentioning about past, loss, yandere, obsessive, possessive, swearing, low self-esteem,dealing with grief, sugestive content and silly jokes created by me. (If there is more to add let me know.)

Previous chapter. Next chapter.

Summary: Arriving in new, unknown place can be scary or anxious. Thanks God that welcoming is suprisingly warm and nice.

Author's note: please note that the whole place even if idea was based on Canadian town, is pure imagination. Also it's fiction so the same goes for all court and some procedures. Again if you are struggling to imagine a mansion, please search for Croft Manor from Tomb Raider games - Legend and Underworld mostly. A lot of its changed (we don't need this big pool and training area) but still I will try to describe and elaborate everything. English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes. Taglist will be in the end of chapter.

MINORS DNI

In the less than week Y/N was ready for a trip. Whole thing was discussed in details with officials. She'll arrive around 11 a.m local time and will be picked up by someone, then they'll drive to Grand Hillsam, this can be long drive around two or three hours. She searched the information about the town - it's not big, around 10.000 people is living there between mountains and forest, lake was nearby. In the area there are couple of really old wood cabins which were hunting/vacation houses for rich people from big city around one hour before - Welland where population was way more bigger, around 150.000 people and it had big car fabric and some high tech instances. Grand Hillsam was first a small village, but the rich people didn't want to live among common people or wanted to be closer to the nature so they started to build houses and mansions there. Y/N looked at the photos, yes the view was stunning, but leaving deep in the forest? Now it was easier with phones and Internet but then? Her distant family had to be crazy.

Her research told that indeed aunt Elizabeth, like she liked to say about late, last family member was part of old lineage, which was very powerful in that area their good luck ended unexpected around three hundred years ago and then they didn't come back to their greatness and before the IIWW family left the city. By the information given by the court, her aunt was living in London since the beginning and till the end of her days.

Y/N closed her notebook with little sigh, the plane was just about to land, so she put everything down, waiting for the end of a fly. Everything later went smooth, passengers were transported into airport from deck, than all the controls and taking bags. Someone was meant to wait for her, but honestly how they'll find each other. When she left the depart rooms, a lot of people were leaving with her and small crowd formed. There were persons holding signs with names and Y/N found herself looking at them in search of her's. Almost in the end of a crowd she found it, a tall man with black hair tie into manbun, leather black jacket and black jeans. A simple paper with Y/N written in the middle. He smiled, when she stopped and approached him carefuly.

"You have to be Y/N." He smiled and they shook hands gently.

"Yes it's me, nice to meet you." She smiled a little flustered.

"Welcome, I'm Jeon Jungkook."

"Y/N L/N."

He was tall and well built, but had cute face with sweet bunny smile. He screamed handsome and she felt little uncomfortable when a warm feeling spread in her chest, then on her cheeks.

"Let's go, the trip will take a little." He said and reached for her bags." And let me take those."

"Thank you."

Looking closer Y/N noticed the pierced lip and tattoos peaking out of sleeves. He walked confidently and her things didn't seem to be heavy for him.

"How was the flight?" Jungkook asked when they were leaving the airport and went into parking.

"Peaceful. I slept a little and read some documents send to me." She responded honestly.

"Actually my condolences." He smiled bitterly.

"Thank you, but I didn't know aunt Lizzie." Y/N shrugged a little.

The officials informed her that person which is going to pick her up will know why she is there to avoid any mistakes or being lost in foreign country. It was a good point. They reached a big, black pick up and he put her lungage in the back then opened door like a real gentelman. She thanked in small nod. Inside car strangely was smell of chocolate, when Jungkook got inside, he adjusted her seat and helped with belt.

"If you wish to sleep again it's okay." He showed his bunny smile. "But later road can get rough. I don't also mind a comfortable silence."

"We'll see." Y/N smiled plesantly shying away from his gaze.

Jungkook nodded and turned on engine which came back to life with a loud roar. He was driving smoothly and confidently, Y/N found herself glancing on hid hands and arm from time to time, but the view was getting prettier. When they left the airport town they drove into mixed forest.

"Sometimes during evenings or night it can be colder, especially with thick clouds and rain."

"Is it common here?"

"Well it can happen two or three days in a row. Sometimes there is a big storm and none is actually going outside, we had it last year."

"Thanks God I packed variety of clothes." Y/N giggled a little. "View is stunning."

"Wait till we reach the hills or mansion." He smiled cutely.

"You know where it is?"

"Yea... it's kinda hard to miss it, even that far and in that small town. I sometimes go for trips into wild and mansion is a little away from the main town. It's on the hill."

The drive went peacefuly, sometimes Y/N was asking questions about the town. It turned out Jungkook is local traveller and has known this place since birth. He's enjoyed all trips into forest and mountains.

"Would you like to stop by to eat something?" He asked glancing at her .

"Yes, it would be nice."

"We'll stop in Welland outskirts, I want to avoid car traffics and I know a good place here."

"Very well then."

As he promised they've stopped in bar which was near the road. Y/N ordered nuggies and some fries when Jungkook took whole ass two sets - burger with fries and chicken leg with fries. Well he was a big, built man probably he needed that much food. After eating he drove through back roads in Welland, as he said earlier to avoid car traffics. When they left town for good, she again started to admire the view. Road suddenly went up and seemed w bit challenging, but he was a skilled driver.

"Are there any wild animals?" She asked looking at thick, mixed forest.

"Shit I should warn you. Yea there are wolfes and bears along with deers and mooses. But don't worry I didn't see them that close to town. Your mansion is on the hill and surrounded by high wall with a gate. Nothing should come inside. If you would want to go deeper in the forest which is around manison - because actually it's the farest point in town, you can meet maybe something. Especially if you will go down to the lake." He said with a little frown.

"The town and area around must be very beautiful." Y/N said and smilled a little.

"It is." Jungkook replied glancing at her for a second.

Unwanted blush crept on her cheeks, so she turned head to again look at the forest. The drive was filled usually with silence, sometimes she was asking some casual questions, but didn't want to distract him, when road seemed a little difficult. Y/N played a little with a necklace, well the reason of the trip wasn't very plesant but she enjoyed it anyway. She didn't noticed how Jungkook's eyes traced the necklace and it's chain. He bit his lip and tried to focus on a road again.

Around the 4 p.m the have arrived in town, which was indeed was smaller and placed deep in the forest and mountains. It was stunning and Y/N could spent there a lot of time if circumstanced were different. He stopped on central square, which was surrounded with some shops, restaurants, big supermarket and town hall, in front of which Jungkook stopped.

"I believe mayor will have all the info you need. I'll wait here." He said putting on sunglasses, because the sun started to be a problem.

"Thank you." She flashed him beaming smile and got out of the car.

In her backpack were all the files she needed so, she entered the building. In reception she got to know, that mayor will be aviable in five minutes or so. She felt little anxious of her case, but after all assistant asked her to come in. Inside the room, behind the desk was older man maybe around his sixties, he got up and shook her hand firmly.

"Good morning miss L/N, how was the flight and drive? Mr Jeon didn't bother you too much?"

"No, he was very nice and helpful."

They both sat down and she took out the docs and her ID. He checked everything once again then lean on chair.

"So... the case is kinda important and complicated." Man sighed. "According to law, you'll inherit the mansion, but there is a lof of buts."

"Actually I didn't know that I had distant family." She sighed unsure.

"Mrs Elizabeth Balfour didn't know too. She only got to know, when she was working on her last will. Around year ago she got diagnosed with advanced lung cancer, she wanted to clear things before passing away. She meant to make an mansion a museum, actually she gave away most her things with historical records, rest went for charity." He said looking at his files.

"So why I have been called to court if she wanted mansion to become museum?"

"Well... it's about the general Balfour lineage will. Mansion is always passed to last family member, that will is above Mrs Elizabeth's will. It's going to become a museum only if it's proven that last family memebr can't afford to take care of mansion." He explained slowly.

"Well, it's kinda obvious. I don't know how rich the aunt was, but by the search and files I can tell that she was richer than me." Y/N smiled nervously.

"Yea, I understand that." Mayor nodded.

"So... now I need to give up on mansion officialy? It'll become museum and it's all?"

"I wish it would be that easy." He giggled. "Now the mansion need to be inspect and everything inside need to be write down and cataloged, unfortunately you have to be present during the whole process."

"Oh..." Y/N's eyes widened at the news.

"Don't worry, actualy Mrs Balfour cared about the mansion, it had general redo three years ago, the sweres, electricity and heating system was modernised. Also we have Internet here and good signal finally. The rooms aren't damaged or something. Mrs ordered to clear one of master bedrooms, when she decided to make it museum, so you can stay in the mansion not in motel." Mayor stated with encouraging smile.

"Sir are you sure? I won't destroy anything?"

"Well, it'll be difficult with those old, wooden furnitures. And you don't seem like some clumsy person." He joked a little.

"Well, I'm sometimes clumsy, but actually I love history and old staff like those." She admitted little nervously.

"Oh perfect, maybe staying in the mansion wouldn't be that bad? Actually I know it's kinda troubling, you are probably working but I can arrange some official files to prevent you being fired."

"It's all right I have already talked with my boss, I can do homeoffice. If Internet is good here, I can work."

"That's nice to hear actually. I hope we will make it work..." he sighed. "Another issue is that we need a specialist, which goverment must find and send here, only he or she can start cataloged things in the mansion."

"So now we have tied up hands?" Y/N asked with sigh.

"A little. We have old list of historical heritage, but the specialist need to describe their state and what it exactly is. We as common folks can only point that 'this' thing is in the mansion."

"How much is there?"

"A lot." Mayor frowned. "The list include all books, statues, paints, furnitures etc."

"Books?"

"Yes, there is a huge librrary."

"Oh my." Y/N huffed. "It looks like tough work, but I think, I can help."

"Thank you Miss L/N. I'll tell higher ups tomorrow about everything and I'll send you the list too. You need time to rest and accomodate yourself in the mansion."

"Thank you Sir." She smiled a little.

They both stood up and he lead her to exit, outside Jungkook was waiting in the hall, sitting in armchair. Mayor smiled at him.

"Can you take miss L/N to the mansion young man?"

"Yes, that's why I'm waiting." He also stood up.

"Great." Older man took off a two sets of keys from his pocket. There were more than fourty keys in total. "Those with red ribbon are keys for garden and cellars, blue is everything in mansion. A black key decorated with a rose is a main garden, silver key decorated with a crescent moon is the key for mansion and a golden key decorated with sunrays is for main gate."

Y/N took them looking at sets with little surprise, she touched the necklace. "What a coincidence..." she muttered.

"Let's go." Jungkook encouraged.

She nodded and they went outside, then into a car. He drove to the north, soon the view has been covered by trees once again. Road was still going up, after around fifteen minutes the mansion emerged from the corner, really the wall around was maybe six or eight meters high. There was some space in front of the gate but behind was a proper parking. They stopped and Y/N took the golden key and opened the gate slowly with Jungkook's help. It creaked just like in the movies, once they entered inside, green but a little neglect grass welcomed them. Right under the wall were parking places, on left side the stone road was leading to a mysterious garden with high hedge on right side was a nice space with big, spacious tree and old swing. The middle stone road was leading to mansion and probably once in time was decorated with flowers. A lonely nightingale was sitting on a tree, whole scenery was stunning, just like from an old tale.

"It's beautiful." Y/N whispered with shining eyes.

"Let me take the suitcase." Jungkook ofered with bunny smile and he went for that.

Mansion was big, probably had two floors except ground level and it went all the way back. The windows seemed to have all glass untouched and actually it didn't look as neglected as she thought it'll be. Jungkook came back with her bags. Actually she found it amusing how he was looking like total bad boy, but seemed to soft inside. The smile which mayor gave him in the office was genuine and he had to help in town a lot.

"Thank you." She said sincerely.

"Come on I'm lifting way more heavy things."

She lead the way inside and with silver key opened the mansion doors. Strangely the lock was very heavy to flip. Inside greeted them smell of old things and a lot of dust.

"I'll come if you want and oil all the locks in the mansion." He offered putting down the suitcases.

"If it won't be a problem. This on main door was a little challenge. I don't want to break the key."

"Do you have that much of strength little one?" Jungkook teased.

Y/N bit the lip and looked away. Currently they were in a little vestibule, on left were solid, heavy doors probably leading to cellars or working areas, on right decorated, wooden doors. In front of, separated by old, classic columns was a very big space, reaching the high of the main roof with fire place, coffee table and two couches. Some painting was above the fire. In the wall in front of them were two door on right and left side. In the middle on left wall were stairs, parting on left and right and those lead to first floor, which was also separated by railings and agains columns, but it had only four doors on both sides and next stairs leading to the second floor. So there was in count eight rooms on left on both floors and eight rooms on right. Through big window there was view on the garden, the closed part.

"That's a big space." Y/N turned around and looked at first floor.

"Yes I agree... that's bigger that I"ve ever imagined." Jungkook also looked around.

"One of the bedrooms should be usable." She went carefuly up by the stairs, which sometimes were creaking too.

Y/N opened the first door, he followed her but the bags were left down below. It come out that it was a nice little office with huge desk, big bookshelves and couch with coffee table, everything in old style and wooden pretty furnitures.

"Well it looks like place to work." Jungkook summed up.

"Yeah, I might end up using this."

They enetered the next room which came out as cleaned master bedroom. It also was giving the old mood. There was another desk, couch with coffee table, on left smaller room serving as old wardrobe, kingsize bed on little platform with canopy, on the right entrance to spacious bathroom, which was remade for sure not long ago.

"All right we found it." Jungkook smiled widely.

Y/N nodded looking around, she really liked how the mansion looked, the old vibe, a little mystery that it was kinda hidding.

"Well the rest of the mansion probably needs big vaccuming... I also need to figure out if everything is working and where are certain rooms." She said with little sigh." Not gonna lie, I am excited a little."

"Do you need any more help?" He asked honestly.

"Oh no, no please I took too much of your time."

"Well, for now I don't have too much to do, I might just help." Jungkook offered scratching his nape.

"I think, this oil will be fine." Y/N giggled nervously.

"Let me take the suitcases."

When he left the room, she looked closer at furnitures, well it could use some clearing. There was still some dust and wiping. He came back fast.

"Can I get your number if something would happen?" He asked a little awkwardly. "Also we don't usualy have a guests here, so I might be helpful with navigate through the city."

"It's good idea." They exchanged the numbers. "Also maybe you'll know then if I can rent a car?"

"Oh yes, I think I know someone who can rent a car."

"It'll be a difficulty to go to the town by feet..."

"Good, I'll talk to them, we'll see maybe tomorrow it'll be done." Jungkook nodded in excitment.

Y/N smiled at his energy and cute behaviour. He really was a good boy with bad boy looks for now.

"Won't you be scared to stay here alone?" He asked concerned.

"Now when you asked I might be." She looked around nervously. "I can lock the door here and when we saw the dust I can assume none was there in long time."

"Yea, I mean who would climb up the wall?"

"Yeah..." Y/N giggled nervously.

"See you tomorrow and remember to check the door and gate later." Jungkoom said and high fived her.

She walked him to the doors, he left waving to her. When door closed, silence started to ring in her ears. She decided to open all doors in sight and it came out that those on first level near the entrance - solid ones were leading to small storage probably once for servants and further to cellar. Decorated were leading into old fancy dining room with long table, big window and chandlier, also there was door to the kitchen, which was also modernised and working, after turning on fridge it started to get colder. Opposite doors in main hall were leading to big library - on left and ballroom on right. She decided to explore it later. It came out the rest of the rooms are bedrooms except the first one of the each floor - those were offices. Y/N came back to her room and started to unpack, the called her friends and boss. Signal was strong and net was working pretty fast.

When she ended the things in the room, her stomach get itself known and the night has fallen upon the city. The mansion was plesantly silent, it seemed like she got used to it pretty fast. Luckily Y/N packed some sandwiches and decided to eat them as supper, but deffinitely she was going to go on shopping tomorrow. She grabbed the small fleshlight in case and went to close the gate, in the main hall she kept smaller lighting on wall, but didn't use fake big chandlier on the roof and some fancy lightning on railings. The whole mansion didn't need to be lit up for now, so in some corners were dark spots and shadows. Y/N didn't seem to noticed when sometimes they would fade out when she was closer and darkened when she was far away. For sure she didn't noticed some shadows shifting. The gate closed with the same creak, she checked also all rooms, but they were closed and came back to master bedroom and started her night routine. Sleeping in such big building will be strange for sure and probably will include some small lamp being turned on the whole time, but nobody was going to know. When she entered the shower the shadow shifted outside the mansion, Jimin jumped out straight from it and landed quietly on stone path. He turned back looking at buliding, smirked and jumped again, turning into nightingale, then felw out into the dark night.

DOWN BELOW LIL SILLY PIC OF MANSION ROOMS PLACEMENT (you are allowed to laugh only three times at this so be carefuly with those.)

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#bts x reader #bts soulmate au #poly bts #supernatural #mystery #dark romance #yandere bts #yandere x you #horror #demons #bts jin #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts ff #yandere bts x reader

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