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fauustic · 2 years ago

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a second chance

BRIEF SPOILERS FOR ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, DESCRIPTION OF REVEALED WORLD-BUILDING.

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. comfort. a bit of fluff. miguel o’hara breaks up with you for your safety, but the universe gives you both a second chance.

warnings: description of violence.

word count: 7358

Somehow, the city seemed even more suffocating out the window of Miguel’s apartment, lights of every color on the spectrum peering into the room as highly advanced cars skimmed by. The millions of people inhabiting such a place had their own problems, but for a moment you wished you were someone else. On their way to work in a tip-top business suit, an old person trying to make the most out of every passing day– anything other than here was more appetizing.

For a moment, you wish you were ignorant to the burden of these powers, the powers Miguel was forced upon and the powers you greedily accepted like a little kid in a candy shop.

It was all too much.

You’ve never seen Miguel so emotional, his knees meeting the ground before you could even shut the door.

There were glimpses of what let through, the broken state of his mind that he so desperately tried to keep together like grains of sand falling through fingers. Late nights he would break down sobbing in your grounding hold, chanting and repeating broken phrases of what had him so upset. Other times these fits you slowly grew accustomed to would be set off from your kindness, actions so deeply rooted in your routine that when it started creating disturbances in your relationship. It was painful, being the glue that held him together.

At the beginning of your relationship, it was something magical. Like one of the romance comics you’d skim through as a teenager, or a romcom movie that had you pining for the lovey-dovey side character.

Miguel was set in his ways no matter what he was faced upon, and making a statement on how serious he felt about you was no different. He’d court you with the utmost respect, swaying you with gifts and flowers that reminded him of you. His affectionate nature came to fruition as you crumbled all his walls in mere months, destroying the years of progress that he enforced to keep others out.

Yet, those nasty habits Miguel formed when he had no-one else slowly peeked through the crevices of your time together. Soft red flags that waved in passing roses he’d give after bad arguments of “your safety,” a bad feeling in your gut whenever Miguel mentioned something along the lines of, “they can’t hurt you too.”

The few months leading to the end of it all was messy, as secrets he precariously kept away from you fell right at your feet. Literally, and figuratively.

Waking into your shared home, all that was on your mind was preparing a meal for you boyfriend who always seemed to come home late. The scent of the apartment washed over your exhaustion-ridded body, cracking your shoulder with a pained hiss.

Distinct woody fragrances wafted throughout the cozy décor, Miguel’s aroma of Sambac jasmine combined with cedar and praline met your senses as a familiar comfort. You wondered if Miguel experienced the same after a long day, your magnolia and orange blossom washes relieving him of the stress of work.

Miguel was overwhelmed, sickened by his work at his lab. You’d always try to help him through his struggles with a massage, which he'd melt under your touch in mere seconds, but the moment you attempted to get him to speak about his troubles he always found an excuse.

So you stopped, having to face rejection so many times by the man you adored put so much wear on your own mental health too.

Getting home a bit earlier, you situated your suit in your over-the-shoulder bag before fully stepping into the apartment. As your entire being was surrounded by the reminder of Miguel, guilt slashed through your consciousness at keeping your own secrets away from him as well. But he was worried sick always, whether it be about his own duties or confusingly about your safety.

Yet, when your sneakers you changed into moments before entering the house slipped onto something haphazardly thrown against tile floor– the façade Miguel tried to feed into to "keep you away from harm" came crashing down.

It felt like an earthquake within your own home, rattling your heart around your ribcage like a feral bird stuck in an aviary. You were quiet, the gasp where sickness soon followed escaped through your stifling fingers wrapped against your mouth. It was terrible, being exposed to the truth in an act caught red-handed.

Curiosity snatched up your brain, the urge to prove what the mask strewn against the floor truly meant. You knew what was bound to come, but you couldn't help but think of a million different excuses in the time you tiptoed through the hallway and met the sight of his scarred back sitting upon the table.

His suit was torn off in a hurry, you assumed, by the state of how the half of his suit was rolled down to his waist and his mask was ripped off and thrown down carelessly. Finally catching him in such a vulnerable position, your heart seized and shriveled just to be rolled out again as his groan in pain cut you away from your thoughts.

You were upset. You know you had no right to be, but as every lie he fabricated to allow the space to have this second life pushed to the forefront of your mind, a choked sob erupted through your throat.

Why did he suffer through this burden alone? Is this what kept him from letting me in? Your brain became muddled with questions, tears clouding your tired gaze. Miguel was in the middle of tightening a gauze against a nasty cut on his forearm, curls damp with sweat and blood, when the choked cry that escaped your lips caught his attention like a spooked animal.

"Miguel," you sobbed harder as he continued to try and make excuses,

"Cariño, it isn't what it looks like–"

Your voice raised as heightened emotions threatened the atmosphere, your grasp on your bag tightening because you had your own secrets and second identity. Why wouldn't honesty escape from your mind and rid the ache in your chest?

You settled on being mad. Being absolutely furious as you reminded yourself of the lies he'd conjured, make you worry about his job as a chemist and even embarrass yourself by going up there and filing a complaint. Knowing it was all an act and you were just a side-character to his play, a mix of disappointment and betrayal fogged your mind. "I'm not blind, O'Hara!"

Stomping back down to swipe up the mask, lens broken and flimsy under your manhandling, you waved it around the air like you were showcasing an audience. Miguel only groaned, pinching his nose as his own frustration clouded his critical thinking. "I know exactly what I'm looking at, Miguel, really? Is this why you act like you're so fucking scared of something?"

He repeated your name this time, cold and calculated. Like you were a villain on the battlefield Spider-man– he– just destroyed earlier, spitting out the criminal's tag like it was worse than the dirt he stepped on. "¡Mierda!" He seethe, standing up only to shuffle closer, but you only stepped away. "Do you think I enjoyed keeping this fucked up secret away from you? No estoy orgullosa de mí misma."

Tell him you have the same problems.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You cried instead, and his hands reached to cradle your cheeks but you pathetically swiped them away.

Tell him you have to worry about living until the next day for the sake of protecting others.

He was frozen stiff, his hands– claws you've never noticed before, unsheathing in and out of his palms. "I.. was. But I was terrified."

Tell him you're scared of others finding out who you really are too. Tell him you relate, and there was no reason to hide anymore.

But you didn't, instead you wiped away your own tears with sweaty palms, struggling to keep yourself from staring at Miguel's broken expression. He looked like a kicked puppy, his arms reaching out to you subtly to show if you walked into his arms he'd never let you go.

"Scared of what?" You tried your best to sound as furious as before, but all that came was a meek whisper.

Miguel's own tears fell onto the floor, catching your eyes as you stared at his mask in your clutches. "I'm so, so fucking scared of losing you. Tú eres mi vida, the air I breathe. You're the one constant I've had in my life, having it ripped away from me would kill me."

He's finally being open, and for a moment you saw light at the end of the tunnel. A turning point for the man, a second chance at being transparent in your relationship. It gave you the courage to come clean about your own second life and to apologize for your irrational words. But he spoke before you, rough and etched with hurt.

"But I don't know if we can keep this up."

"What?" The trance he was putting you under was shattered.

He laughed at nothing, his stare tinted with animalistic craze. Miguel's claws dug into his curls, "We need to break up."

The mask in your grip fell, a stunned silence settling over the two of you. He had just said he couldn't live without you, how he wouldn't know what to do if you were ripped away from him– and now he's proposing a breakup?

"You, what? Is this some joke?"

He turned away from you, pacing in unsaid panic. You knew he didn't want to do this, yet once he had a plan in his mind you also knew that he'd sacrifice anything to do the "right thing."

Miguel repeats your name the second time that night, your composure thrown off at the lack of pet names he would utter like honey from his tongue. He sounds hollow, dissociated from himself to make this discussion finish quicker. "They, I'm scared– okay? Scared shitless that they're going to come after you." He wheezed out another dry laugh, his bruised knuckles coming to kiss his eyes to blind his vision. The loudness of your voice from before must be giving him headaches. Because you were struggling with the same thing too.

"I can fend for myself–" you began to counter, hands coming in contact with the spider suit in your bag before his booming voice shook you to your core.

"No, no. You don't understand." Sobs choked his words, a flood of tears he couldn't bother to rid staining his cheeks and rolling down his jaw. "You can't! They're coming for me, and the ones I love. And the only one I love is you." Miguel emphasized himself by grazing your chest with a talon, exactly where your heart beat lurched and pattered like a broken down engine. "They will target you, and they will kill you."

Desperate, you were the one now begging for him to walk into your embrace. But he only turned away, his marred back facing you. The image burned itself in your mind.

"Who are they, Miguel? Why, even now, you won't tell me anything?" You sank to your knees, crawling towards him in despair. It couldn't be over.

"Hemos terminado. We're done, over." Miguel's tone steeled over, icy and painful and jarring. "Get out of my house."

He stood there like a statue, one arm holding himself only for his free hand to be pinching the bridge of his nose. Miguel didn't move as you quieted down your wails, and storm through the house to take what was yours and what you needed.

No words left your lips as you would steal a glance at his unmoving figure, the only giveaway that he was even breathing was his wavering composure. His attention stayed fixated on a corner of his apartment, head turned away from you the entire time.

You didn't care that you were still leaving so much of your stuff as your legs tripped over themselves to finally leave his apartment. You had more than enough money to live on your own, to buy the barebones like a toothbrush and necessities all over again.

Miguel O'Hara would now be a thing of the past, and all of the things tied to him could burn down in the apartment he held you.

Your senses could tell that once your sneakers squeaked down the hallway of his apartment, thinking you would never be able to notice– Miguel's knees met the floor of his apartment with a heavy thud.

Fighting the amount of bags in your hands while simultaneously pushing the button of the first floor repetitively, the last memory you have of Miguel was his unfiltered sobs filling the apartment floor.

☆

With time, you found yourself.

Whether it be from the new body wash you had bought for yourself or the different commute you began to take for work, a niche engineering project you've stumbled upon after the breakup– and it coincidentally helps you test materials that you could incorporate into your suit. The constant reminder of the man you brought to your knees didn't hurt that much anymore. Progress was being made, or so you thought.

Every time your back met a brick wall from the force of some outer-dimensional monster turned sentient who all of a sudden wants to get back at the human race, the thud that echoed from the impact would knock you right back to the apartment filled with sweet praline and magnolia. His sobs trailing behind a screech of pain from your enemies, causing hesitation in your combat.

The cheers below you snapped you out of your daze, civilians chanting for your victory or screaming in fear as they ran away. After the breakup, you've found yourself with the leniency of being able to suit up whenever your heart desires because you weren't keeping a secret away from another anymore.

You bit your cheek in frustration, upset at how you handled the situation because you had done the same and you were mad at him for doing exactly what you were doing. All these months have passed, and you still can't help but feel guilty.

But it's in the past now.

Another screech met your ears, back shivering as a chill washed over your spine. With the fast reaction speed you were able to build, you swung out of the way to another rooftop before the alienistic creature side slammed you. The web slinger you have tinkered with enhanced your ability to shoot out organic webs at a consistent pace, working as fine as a charm when you swing back towards the vicious monster to crunch your knuckles sickeningly into its slimy flesh. It glitched disgustingly.

It withered away with ease, falling off the skyscraper it had leaped upon in an attempt to finish you off. Throwing a device onto the being, it was trapped into a vibrant hold it couldn’t get out of.

Your soft cream-white suit glistened with its green blood, covering the black trim you painstakingly painted in the dead of night.

The appearance you kept up as a Spider-person upgraded with time because you didn't exactly mind the limelight. Not staying in the shadows anymore since you didn't have to worry about O’Hara finding out about you, your suit became something you adorned with confidence. It was a part of you now, as cheers sounded out from below at your entertaining brawl with a slime monster that totally wants to eradicate the city.

But yeah, go ahead and cheer you poor ignorant souls.

You never really came up with a name, but as you began incorporating little trinkets on your newly added combat satchel like a stray feather and charms of swans because a little girl said "your suit reminded her of one," the news generously graced you with the title "Spider Swan." On some bad days on the broadcast, though, the name would easily become a tomato show for jokes like "baby bird couldn't flap its wings," or "someone left the nest a bit too early."

It was infuriating.

The headgear installed in your mask allowed you to pick up on police waves, listening into calls and urgent matters so you could have a better idea of where you were needed and how you could help.

It rang through the noise of webs slinging from a glass window to a neon billboard, the police urgently requesting backup on a city street not that far away from you. It was describing a creature just like the one you obliterated, slimy and green and totally not from your universe. A scream pierced the radio waves, encouraging a sense of a little more urgency in your movements.

Becoming more involved with this line of work, you began to understand Miguel's worries. Corrupt organizations would pray for your downfall, threatening everyone you should probably hold dear to your heart as your spurred shoes met the slide of their faces. Other times skilled criminals would form alliances with one another and try to dig up your true identity as a way of blackmail.

It never worked and they're now where they need to be, but you suppose after you hear so many threats you begin to take it with nonchalance– and suddenly it isn't an empty threat– the panic that overwhelmed O’Hara was perfectly reasonable.

The beautiful lights of the underground city lit up against your lenses like a wildfire, a visual feast you’ve never been able to get enough of. Swinging throughout the tight spaces of Nueva York, you neared closer to where you were needed. A gunshot veered past you, presumably from a dumb cop, and you had to flip in the air and roll onto the street before picking up speed again.

Hissing out in pain, a quip escaped your lips when you neared the police force. “Did anyone here train to do their job? The last time I was here you almost shot me in my good eye–” Before you could even finish your sentence, two rookies pulled their guns in a defensive stance. With a heavy sigh, you easily subdued them with your webs before swinging into action.

The monster looked as if it was already struggling, turned away from your figure and groaning in its mother tongue, oozing with a gross slime that littered and disrupted the flow of traffic down below. It was relatively larger than the one you had just captured and suddenly the device in your hand feels a little too small. Nonetheless, as the villain flailed lazily, the heel of your foot met the crunching sensation from one of its many eyes. You almost gagged as it exploded onto your white suit, but the navy blue lenses meeting your contrasting white made time stop. It wasn’t until one of the many tentacles belonging to the creature yanked your ankle– soaring you violently towards a skyscraper– that the trance from the one you had been avoiding was interrupted with a shock.

“You–”

He had been trying to find you like a fox finding a bunny, you knew that. Waiting in the shadows, you always see him stalking beyond the darkness. And now you’re right here, finally coexisting in the same space after months of a cat-mouse game. “Can’t exactly talk here,” You yelled, deepening your voice in a pitch that made you cringe. “Let’s put a raincheck on what’s going on here and focus on the weird dimensional-octopus that’s currently beating your ass.” Spider-Man, with a groan of frustration that was just so familiar, noticeably squinted in your direction that had you sweating bullets as he right hooked the head of the monstrosity.

You knew everything about him. He knew nothing about you.

“I’m supposed to be the one and only Spider-Man of this–” He dodged a tentacle aiming for the head, only to unsheathe his claws and start ripping into the flesh of the villain. The smell, something similar to the stench of Sulphur mixed with radioactive chemicals. It burned your enhanced senses, tipping your balance before you caught yourself.

“Well obviously, you’re not.” Steadying your emotions, the calmness of your tone contrasted his irritability. “You know it’s not impossible–” Webs meeting tentacles, the screech of the glitching excrescence interrupting your words before quickly silencing it with another heel to the eyes. Pointing up and then at the watch around his wrist, you gave him a pointed look and a shrug. Nothing was said, but at the exasperated howl at your accusatory gesture– he obviously understood the unsaid.

“I’ve been speaking to you for a minute–” Another punch. “And I’m already finding you the most annoying out of all of them–”

You rolled your eyes, webbing the tentacles of the monster together like shoelaces stuck together. “Gee, thanks tough guy.” No response.

The monstrosity the two of you had been grappling against grew more frantic with its movements, growing more aware of its losing battle by the moment. With defeat in tow, the tentacles split into multiple. Green juice splattering excessively over the city blocks, it screamed horrendously in pain. The dimensional monster was imploding into itself, never allowing it the chance to return back to its universe.

Being so close to the glitching, dramatic death of the slime monster– Spider-Man pushed the heaving half-corpse’s weight off his own in a flurry. Always having to be quick on your feet in this field, you webbed the monster in the air so it could hang uselessly– the death of the anomaly would not be able to interfere with anything amongst Nueva York.

Being on your own despite having so much at your finger-tips, the separation between you and O’Hara made things difficult. You were on your own despite being at the core of everything.

Head buzzing with spider senses, your attention snapped towards the man that is tangled with your entire being– a useless game of push-and-pull that neither one of you are giving into.

Spider-Man miscalculated the leap away, his claws trying to find purchase in the metal beams of the building. But something was wrong, the slime running down his forearms ruining his suit’s resistance.

The structure O’Hara clung to was threatening to crumble due to the constant strain of the battle, doused in the greasy muck that pixelated and discolored by each passing moment the villain was close to combusting entirely. Before you knew it, the construction of the building that was so complexly fabricated was coming down and shifting into rubble on the borough down below.

Your limbs began moving on its own, your mind racing into a frenzy of saving the people down below and the man you revolved around like the sun and moon– unknowing forces pushing the two of you together but never touching.

Until now.

The collision lasted only seconds, but to you it was as if the eclipse was forever. Skin sizzling with nerves you didn’t even know you could feel ignited aflame, the pads of your feet coming into contact with the building’s crumbling walls– diving into spaces and using the webs you shot as a catapult.

Your hold came into contact with a body before you knew it, warm and intimate like you were back in his home. Tucked away in the softness of his duvet, your arms wrapped around his skin like an anchor against the raging waves. Memories came flooding in, lightheaded with your spider senses crying out in danger against the puzzle pieces that placed O’Hara on a pedestal. The first rose he gave you floated through the crevices of your brain, an astray petal landing softly on a memory you forced down.

The radioactive spider that latched its fangs into your skin on the night you met O’Hara, pain mixing with anticipation.

It's like the city lights grew more vibrant at the realization, soda blue mixing with dragon fruit pink– lime green swirling with sunny yellow. Everything fits together. This was how it was supposed to go, despite all the pain.

Strength you’ve built up allowed yourself to heave him onto your shoulder, breathing heavily at his weight crushing yours. But determination and adrenaline pushed you further, swinging through the shadowed city until you found a safe perch– laying him down gently. Time was running out, but you had to do what needed to be done.

Ripping on the tattered mask upon your face, you scooped up his head into a soft grasp. Right hand behind his neck and the other leaning the back of his head towards your unearth identity, his lenses tiredly widened at the abrupt reveal.

Tears you didn’t know you had in you– not shedding a tear ever since the day the two of you broke up– flooded your eyes and rolled down your sliced skin. Salt mixed with flesh, the pain kept you wide awake and aware.

“Still the most annoying one you ever met?” You couldn’t help but try to ease the tension in the atmosphere, yet failing with obvious reason.

O’Hara whispered your name like a blessing, claw upon his chest meeting the dirt on your cheek in the softest graze he’s ever bestowed against you. “You– you’re here.”

“I’m here.” You echoed, resting your forehead against his own. His suit caressed against your skin, and the world stopped. All that you could hear was his soft wheezing of breath and your own, and suddenly everything felt okay.

“¿Cómo puede ser eso?” He muttered aloud, “How can this be? How are you here?” he became a mumbling mess as nervousness clutched his rationality. O’Hara’s hand swiping against your jaw shifted to the small of your back in a hug. It was like nothing had ever happened, and you were about to fall in the ravine of his presence before a ear-blasting trill of beams breaking pulled you back into reality. You stood up, rolling your mask back on before looking down below. A miracle was going to have to happen for everything to turn out okay, but you were willing to take that risk. He called your name, reaching the hand not clutching his side out in desperation. “Don’t do this– you can’t change–”

You kept your back turned, shooting your webs onto a piece of rubble falling for leverage. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Was the last thing you said before you plunged into the chaos that was unravelling Nueva York from the inside out.

☆

The abrasion of concrete rubbing against your skin carved into your skin, until it didn’t. Dust threatened to enter your lungs as you weaved in and out of obstacles created from the fissures of collapsing high-rises, bodies clasping onto you like a lifeline– until that ended as soon as you started as well.

Everything made sense finally, and then it stopped. Paused as soon as it strengthened, disentangling memories and causing fragmentation.

Lips met yours, the firm grasp of palms against your hips. “Cariño, you don’t understand how much I’ve thought about my mouth on yours since we last met.” A familiar voice whispered into your ear, kneading into your flesh as each syllable rolled out lazily. But the warm breath fanning the side of your face never came, and the wisps of hair that met your forehead never tickled you.

The touch of an elevator button against your index ignited your senses, bags dragging down your tired form. The thud of knees meeting tile followed, before ending with sobs echoing in the corners of your mind.

Darkness enveloped your mind, the vibrancy of neon lights that grew so comforting never came.

Cold metal met your limbs, grazing your chest and the beeping of a scan met your ears. Orange hues painted the darkness for just a moment, before vanishing like a hallucination. Little bits and pieces of words would echo throughout the chamber you’ve found yourself in– “When do you think,” – “¡Mierda! Are you even doing your job correcting?!” – “Let me take over,” “You have no idea what you are even looking at, Miguel!” – “But you do?!”

It was like this for a while, until the words grew closer and the colors overlapping pitch black spread like webs.

The first thing you felt was a weight on your leg, thigh trapped under the pressure of something breathing and shifting ever so slightly. The covers lying atop your form was nothing close to the softness you were used to, instead the scratchy fabric brushed against your skin and the thin gown you felt as you twitched.

Your muscles ached, both out of stiffness and the strain of what you remember: the buildings collapsing around you, rubble piercing your skin. Your throat felt dry, the lights overhead intruded against your eyelids. The metal sensation from before, cold and icy, trailed along your arms as you woke.

Peeling your gaze open, your spider senses went into overdrive. It feels as if your body had sunken into the pit of an ocean, drowning and heavy with salt water flooding your pores.

The first to catch your eye was the spider-shaped robotic machinery tending to your wounds, scabbed and bandaged with care. Your fists curled into the bed you rested against; the smell of chemicals embedded within the fabric burned at your nostrils. The luminescence of the lamps on the bedside counter were dimmed low as your gaze adjusted to the sensory intake, breathing deeply in a way to calm yourself.

This place was nothing you’ve ever seen before, but with an abundance of spider-themed gadgetry adorned along the wall and medical systems– alongside the hyper-technologically advanced computer interfaces connected to the tubed legs of the metallic spiders accessing the wounds you had, you assumed it must have been the Spider Society HQ you’ve heard in passing. The building above the greenery beyond Nueva York, a vision you were only able to get glimpses from riding the train.

Holding your breath, you looked at the weight atop your thigh.

A tuft of combed-back brown curls met your stare before tracing the few strands hanging delicately over his forehead. His eyes were fluttered shut, eyebrows furrowed as if he was having a bad dream. Deep stress lines you desperately wanted to thumb away rested in-between his brow, leading you to the circles under his closed eyes. Deep and prominent against olive skin, O’Hara was now in a slightly modified, upgraded version of his navy blue suit that had none of the previous damage from the battle you stumbled upon.

His head lay against your thighs heavily, breathing in your scent deeply as he dozed off. Every few snores, he’d stutter in his sleep as if he was about to shock himself awake– but he easily settled back in the softness of your muscle after his hand upon your stomach would grab the flesh of your stomach softly.

You took a moment to study him. There’s been a few times you’ve sighted him in the streets, usually his mask covering his identity always. This is the first time you’ve truly had him so close and the realization of it all made your palms sweat and your stomach churn. The usual quips and your homemade spider-mask could not save you now, you were in the den of a lion’s. He quite literally had you in his grasp.

The knowledge you had of this place was limited, not being a part of the Spider Society because you had to avoid him– and now that everything has been revealed in regards to both of your secrets you had no idea what to do from here. Not like you could do much right now though, your bones feel fragile and your muscles feel weak. How long have you been holed up in this cage?

A groan escaped O’Hara’s lips, a frown contorting his features. Under the spell of sleep, he looked much more soft. The rigidness of his stoicism couldn’t plague his expression as dreams consumed him, but as his frown deepened and the lines between his eyebrows became more prominent,, you couldn’t help but slide your hand underneath his. Squeezing it, his scarred fingers subconsciously intertwined with yours without a moment’s hesitation.

A smile bloomed onto your lips at the sight, your heart running a marathon at the closeness you were allowed. All the anger festered up from that night ebbed away with time and understanding– having the role as a Spiderperson since the split made you candidly comprehend the stress and dedication one has to have. With the experience, the hardness O’Hara had on himself and others suddenly made sense, and as the confusion cleared– love remained. The man within your reach finally, has always been in the corners of your mind, memories unearthed by every little thing in your life. You may have changed your route to work, but then you started to pass his favorite restaurant. You may have changed your body wash, but the scent of praline underlined the floral smell of ocean breeze.

He was always there, one way or another.

Silence enveloped the room, minus the soft beeping and the slight hiss that escaped you whenever one of the freaky looking medical spiders zapped skin back into place. Yet, as you sat there quietly while looking outside the window, tracing flying cars with your gaze or simply admiring the amount of green you’ve possibly ever seen before– a shaky voice met your rhythmic, soft breathing.

Your name was the first thing he said, disbelief lacing his tone before both his hands scooped up the clutch you held onto him with delicacy, like he was hiding away a treasure in the palm of his hands. “Can’t believe anything any of this–”

“How… how long was I out, O’Hara?” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, fragile and meek. It made you feel pathetic– being able to save so many people in less than two minutes and suddenly you couldn't even bring yourself to speak. Without a word, he reached over to the bedside table to fiddle with a water bottle and a straw. He set the straw to your lips, grabbing your chin to take the straw.

He sighed, tutting like a worried mother hen. “Don’t use your voice so much, cisne. Drink.” It’s been so long since you’ve been waited on hand-and-foot that it almost made you annoyed, but you did what he said because you are bedridden after all. And in a way, it made you feel like he cared. The way O’Hara’s thumb swiped your lower lip when water trickled down your chin was calculated, as if he was trying to embed the feeling into his brain again.

“You had been slipping in-and-out of consciousness over the past week and a half.” He murmured, leaning into your space as your free hand patted on his chest to indicate you had enough water. A soft frown threatened at his lips, worry evident in his gaze.

Coughing from choking down so much water, the question tumbled from your mind without second-thinking. “And how long have you been here?” You felt your cheeks hearten due to the lack of filter, but a part of you really wanted to know.

Your embarrassment transferred to him as soon as the question hung into the hair, his gaze ripping away from your own. His frown wobbled at getting caught within the act, vulnerability showing through for once between the amount of time the two of you have shared. “I’ve..” Having an internal battle with himself, he exhaled with stress in defeat. “Been here since you got here.” Your eyes lit up, and he only groaned at your obvious excitement.

“You were worried.”

“I was– I was not worried– dios mío–”

You sat up further on the pillows behind you, pointing into his chest as he leaned further away in lighthearted mortification of finally having to talk about his feelings. “O’Hara! You were! You were worried!”

“If I admit it will you stop repeating yourself–”

“Yes,”

O’Hara’s brow furrowed as if he was in physical pain, leaning back into the chair he sat right beside your bed. His hands still stuck firming around your sweating ones, his head leaned back in exasperation. “I was worried. I am always worried about you. I was scared shitless sitting there on that ledge while you dived into the unknown.”

Breath stuttering, you held the air within your lungs for a long second. It felt like a dream, having the Miguel O’Hara hunched over with his hands around your own like a delicate doll, flushed and embarrassed because he finally has to admit his feelings. The urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, and if you had the strength to lean forward and do so, you would. But exhaustion was dwelled deep into your limbs, and you didn’t want to overexert yourself.

“And, and– stop calling me that. Jesus, it’s like hearing a teacher addressing me.”

This caught your attention as his scarlet eyes met yours, swirling with a flurry of emotions that screamed of intensity. “Calling you what?” You asked, trying to sound indifferent when truly you were just teasing him. But he was more than observant– and when he caught you trying to play him like you were a guitarist and he was your bass. This only riled him up more.

“O’Hara?! I’m Miguel to you, Miguel.” His hands tightened around your own as he repeated his name twice, almost like a plea. “Stop making me act like a child, I have a reputation to uphold–”

“You became O’Hara the day you broke up with me.” Low blow, and quite petty– but you wanted to test if he truly had changed.

The rant you cut off halted without another word, O’Hara’s forehead meeting your thigh as if you just slapped him atop the head when you knocked sense into him. “I didn’t know what else to do.” His voice choked up almost instantaneously, his emotions as high as ever like he just processed you were truly here and talking to him. “And look at where we ended up.” The latter didn’t sound like he was speaking to you, more like he was stuck in his head someplace far away. “Your safety was what mattered the most to me– and back then these people, these people threatened to remove you from here. Wipe you off the plane of this universe like you never even happened.”

You were silent as his hands kneaded into your thighs gently, fingertips trailing up your stomach like he was trying to remember every part of your body again unconsciously. “I didn’t want to lose you, and for the longest time I pushed it away as much as I could until I couldn’t anymore.”

Your brain clicked and churred, gears rolling back in place in your post-coma fog. “.. Is that why you were so stressed, so different throughout the end of our relationship?”

Miguel sighed heavily, tears threatening to fall as if an entire world was lifted off his shoulders. “.. Yes. Yes, I’m not proud of it. I’m really not proud of myself.” He repeated, confessing his sins like you were the pastor and he was a sinner. “I just was terrified for you to be gone.”

“.. I’m tired of having so much loss in my life.” It was barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

His shoulders raised, stammering as if he was holding himself back. Without a word, you shrugged your hand from his own. Scarlet gaze meeting yours in surprise, fangs on display unknowingly as his mouth slacked– your arms raised towards him and instantly he allowed himself to melt into your embrace.

“I didn’t know.” Was all you said.

“I didn’t want you to know,” He murmured against your cheek, breath fanning your ear and arms meeting your back strongly. Just like your dreams. Miguel’s words trailed off anxiously, before concluding with something you haven’t heard in a long time, “mi cielo.”

Tears soaked your shoulder sleeve, but you didn’t care. “But I want you to know everything now. I want you to be a part of my life now, we can get through it all–”

A small frown met your lips, heart clenching at his words. “I, I can’t–

“Mi pajarito, please,” Miguel breathed in deeply, “I really, really have missed you.” His hold surrounding you tightened subtly. The buzz of floating cars whizzed by as silence enveloped the both of you, the noise of watches sounding throughout the hallway kept you grounded. Drilled it into your head that this was truly happening, that you’re here with Miguel with both of your secrets unveiled. Under each other's protection.

“Miguel, I.. I can’t be hurt again.” You wanted him, wanted him more than anything. But something snatched your heart up and forced it into an aviary. It raged against the railings of its captor, fluttering with desperation. You were scared of rejection again, the repressed emotions flooding your senses and making you sob. Miguel held you as you cried and continued to do so, tracing shapes into your skin like all those months ago. “Please don’t leave me again.”

The plea escaped you through tears, Miguel promised and promised and promised as he swiped away the wetness amongst your cheeks, his cold exterior he kept affront during your relationship crashed down in waves as his own tears pressed into your skin. “I’m so sorry. Please, please like you gave me– give me a second chance.”

His fingers trailed up, grasping the nape of your neck while the other caressed your cheek with a shakiness you’ve never seen before. Always so confident, it reminded you of the brokenness you witnessed on the last night you were together. But this felt genuine, the looming fear and despair hanging over his head all those months ago were fanned away with time. This was Miguel’s honest attempt at vulnerability.

You stared into his tearful eyes, a smile playing at your lips as your hands sat upon his own holding your face. Leaning in, your nose brushed his as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips, chapped and cold, met his contrasting warm and refined touch. Miguel presumably did not care, as his fingers intertwined with your hair and grasped your chin with a sparked need. The kiss was short and sweet, as the two of you breathed into each other’s mouth. Relishing in the moment, you pushed forward again as desperation seeped into your rationality.

Your hands moved from his own to his shoulders, pulling him deeper into the kiss and he just consumed whatever space you gave him. Miguel was aware of every muscle he pushed against you, but as the both of you clawed into each other’s flesh Miguel’s resolve to stay gentle ebbed away as his spit swapped with yours. It was if you were a struggling flower, and he was both the air and sun and water combined. He was everything you needed, and he was everything you wanted. To you, he was the sun and you were the moon– seeing one another in passing but never touching until today.

But to him, you were the stars that littered the sky. A comet passing by, beautiful and alluring. You were in each neon sign of Nueva York, where he stared a little too hard and could see a figure of you that was constructed from the little imagination he had left.

He saw you in the headquarters he overworked himself in to forget you. He saw you in the shadows of the city he protected. Miguel saw you in everything he believed in, yet everything he went against simultaneously.

But he’ll learn to make exceptions with himself and the rules he place, because as his fangs dig into your lower lip and the noise that erupts from your throat wraps him around your finger– Miguel tries to understand how he ever let you go.

“Miguel, you kiss me once and you’re already trying to bite me–” You begin to scold in your little way, until Miguel shushes you with another kiss to the lips.

“It’s all out of love, cariño.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara angst #x gender neutral reader #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman 2099 #x angst #x comfort #comfort #angst

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dearlydevoured · 15 days ago

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russell adler x bell! reader. meant to be longer, meant to be proofread, inspired by @altcvnningham

berlin was home to you now.

you don’t know why—considering all that had happened—but you found illegally renting apartments under fake identities was just comforting that you stayed in the city months after your psyche was broken down and put back together with chewing gum and lint-covered duct tape.

maybe it was more of a safe zone but you consciously didn’t acknowledge it, too afraid to leave and see the rest of the world under the forceful title you gave yourself as a german civilian. months passed and you were still anxious about people and places you could barely picture in your head.

nothing more, always something less.

lighting your cigarette, you moved away from the kiosk and walked back to your building, winter chill nipping at the exposed tips of your ears. you started smoking again, trying to reclaim what chunks of identity had been taken away from you, no matter how little.

it was nearing midnight. usually, when it was this late and your pack had already been finished, you tried to ignore your body’s craving for nicotine and wait until the morning. but after cleaning your own sob-session-induced bile off the parquet with a dirty t-shirt the night before, you took the trip down the block and bought a fresh pack to semi-congratulate for not throwing yourself out the window—as much as you desperately wanted to. the acidic smell of your own stomach’s contents hit you mid-cleaning causing you to gag, stomach cramping painfully as you tried to focus on just cleaning the mess you already made, the only thing you could do in the situation besides forcing your body to keep everything down and to not think about it.

you often got away with beating memories of 1981 down. still, your chest would tighten when men at bars used a familiar cologne, closing your eyes and trying to imagine that they smelled of citrus and laundry detergent, not warm spices carried by wood and leather. you would imagine adler when you would hook up with these same men that led you to places you’d only see once yet criticize a million times in your head due to the lack of results when searching for a piece of décor that could scream his name at you as if to console, aching to focus in on just one thing that would remind you of his style. when you were completely disconnected, you only found comfort through pretending he was on top of you, a stranger’s fingers peeling your clothes off in a way so delicate that he could never compare, hands too rough and undeserving.

they would ask if you’re okay and you would only nod in response, sometimes putting a smile on your face just for them and of course, the men before them.

you forgot the pattern of his scars. climbing the first flight of stairs, you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for your keys before hooking a finger into the ring and pulling them out. cigarette hanging from your lips, you separated the apartment key from everything else.

in your head, they created the ursa major. a prfectly carved constelattion on his face, able to be seen even in the daytime.

#cod #bocw #call of duty #black ops #black ops cold war #cod x reader #bo x reader #bocw x reader #call of duty x reader #black ops x reader #cold war x reader #adler x reader #russell adler x reader #adlerbell #russell adler x bell #russell adler #cod adler #new tag: i don’t like this #so i’m really sorry if i take it down :(

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simstorian-blog · 4 months ago

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Residential Floorplan Suggestions

New York City: TWO

(CC List + Links)

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Spice Market – Waterside Warble

Lot Size: 30 x 30

Capacity:

A Dive Bar

An Internet Café

A Pizzeria

A Tattoo Parlor

Bonus: 6 residential rental units floorplans completed – not assigned

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Discover University

For Rent

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Dream Home Decorator

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Parenthood

Spa Day

Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Packs

Crystal Creations

Home chef Hustle

Laundry Day

Moschino

Kits

Castle Estate

Courtyard Oasis

Cozy Bistro

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

Carl’s Dine Out Reloaded

City Vibes Lot Traits

Functional Tattoo Parlor

Functional Venue Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot

Spawn Refresh

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots & Create Multi-Purpose Community Lots

Build Mode

CharlyPancakes

Chalk Pt.2 (Tiles)

Felixandre

Chateau Pt. 1 (Stone Foundation)

Chateau Pt. 2 (Doors, Metal Pieces, Tiles, Walls)

Colonial Pt. 3 (Fence 2, Plaster Foundation 2, Railing 2)

Florence Pt. 1 (Fresco Mural)

Grove Pt. 4 (Plaster Column, Plaster Floor)

London Interior (Dining Chair, Stool, Walls)

Paris (Cartouche Large, Corbel, Swag)

Schwerin (Terracotta Female)

SOHO Pt. 2

SOHO Pt. 3

SOHO Pt. 4

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 2 (Traditional Door Frame – Med, Traditional Door – Med, Traditional Window 2 - Med)

Coastal Pt. 2 (Column)

Klean Pt. 3 (Concrete Floor, Painted Walls)

Kwatei Pt. 1 (3x1 BiFold, Double Arch, Single Interior Door)

Mutske

Stairs Add-on

Lijoue

Louer Collection (Iron Fence, Railing, Stone Stairs)

Peacemaker

Bistro Expanded (Awning 1x1)

Graffiti Mural 01

Pierisim

Winter Garden Pt. 2 (Double Door High, High Window w Bottom x2)

Sooky88

Checkered Marble Floor

English Country Wall Set (Subway Tiles, Subway Tiles w Wallpaper)

Scandinavian Wall Set (Plain w Tiles)

Syboubou

Neighborly 1 (Ceiling Outdoor Light, Mailbox)

Neighborly 2 (Interphone)

Buy Mode

AroundTheSims4

Laundromat (Seating x3 – Metal Base)

Tattoo Parlor (First Aid Kits, Gloves, Ink, Ink Display, Light, Saddle Stool, Tattoo Gun)

Cepzid

Functional Tattoo Chair

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 1 (Curtain – Tall)

SOHO Pt. 1

Harlix

Baysic (Coffee Table, container, End Table, Kitchen Cabinet, Kitchen Counter, Kitchen Island, Kitchen Sink, Kitchen Trolley, Kitchen Accent Counter 1-3, Sofa)

Jardane (Leather Pouffe)

Kichen (Cabinet, Cups, Glasses, Plant, Shelf)

Kichen 2.0 Pt. 2 (Glasses 2 & 4)

Harrie

Shop The Look 1 (Armchair, Coffee Table)

Shop The Look 2 (Ceramic Side Table)

Shop The Look 3 (Circular Cushion)

Spoons Pt. 2 (2 Tile Glass Pedastal- Short & Tall, Counters, Espresso Bar, Island, Pastry Platter, Pizza Board, Shelving)

Kiwisims4

Blockhouse Dining (Booth Seating)

KKB

The Chilling Home (Module Bar Stool)

LittlleDica

Greasy Foods (Napkins, Salt Shaker, Stalls Door, Stalls Wall, Vents, Wet Floor Sign)

Modern Kitchen Stuff (Soft Breeze)

Rise & Grind (Décor Mural 2, Décor Syrup Bottle, Décor Wall Painting Menu, Dining Tables – All, Wastebun Counter)

Max20

Happily Ever After (Sign of Attention)

NANDO

Fashion Store (Ceiling Lamp)

Pierisim

Coldbrew Coffee Shop Pt. 3 (Menu, Paper Cup, Tea Box, Tips Jar)

MCM Pt. 1 (Simstudio Display)

MCM Pt. 4 (Kitchen Island)

Ravasheen

Shake and Shimmy Dance Floor

Shop Chef (Drink Dispenser)

Severinka

Industrial Light II

Simkoos

Clutter Dump Pt. 2 (Boba Notepad, Boba Stacked Cups V1, Cafeteria Straw Dispenser)

SimspirationBuilds

Toffee Pt. 1 (Art)

Syboubou

Catherine Sushi Restaurant (Wall Shelf 1 & 3)

Contemporary Haven (Armchair, Artworks, End Table, Sofa 3P Left)

Macaron (Counter Display)

TaurusDesign

Lilith Chilling Area Pt. 1 (Bartender Kit, All Drinks, SulSul Sign)

Tuds

Cave (Panel Light 2 x 4)

IND 01

IND 03

Turn Couch

Wondymoon

Fraxinus AIO Computer (DL on Patreon)

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

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valenschirico · 6 months ago

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4 Steps for Creating a Living Room You'll Love

A living room you'll love and love to share and show. Follow these 4 #homedesign steps.

All rooms in your home are equal, but some are more equal than others: your living room. Follow these 4 steps to create a living room you’ll love and be proud of. The mirror of your personality at home, a comfy place to host friends and gatherings. Make the perfect living room in 4 steps. You can get away with having an attic that’s slightly less than perfect since… well, it’s not all…

#daily life #home décor #home design #how to #Sponsored: paid #tips

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succulentsiren · 2 years ago

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Practical Tips to Live A More Seductive Life: SucculentSiren x FemmeFataleVibe

It's my pleasure to provide this collab between FemmeFataleVibe and I. Seduction is a complex practice, so here we discussed new perspectives and ways to utilize it in your daily life. Thank you @femmefatalevibe for your enlightening knowledge. It definitely expanded my view on how to live more seductively.

What does seduction mean to you?

SucculentSiren: Seduction is using enchantment to attract a desired outcome. You can seduce yourself, by applying certain self-beliefs or you can seduce others by developing a captivating influence.

FemmeFataleVibe: Being seductive cannot be reduced to a behavior, way of dressing, or speech. It is a palpable yet intangible shift in how you see yourself and how you show up for yourself alone or out in the world.

✦•······················•

Topics

-Mindset

FFV: Embrace an abundance mindset. Perceive new connections and opportunities as complimentary rather than a source of validation or self-actualization. Living as a seductress is only possible when you know you create a complete life without others' permission. You've already filled up your cup, so you have additional energy to give and receive to those individuals and projects that are deserving

SS: It is crucial to have a ‘Winners Mindset.” Shift your mindset from expecting to fail, to expecting to win. Envision yourself receiving your desires. Having this mindset eliminates anxiety and doubt around your capability in attaining what you want. You must also know that you are deserving of the things you are attracting. Be patient regardless of external circumstances. Keep your eyes in the prize and remain firm in your self beliefs.

Surrounding self with things that elevate you (people, hobbies, environment, décor)

FFV: Release any shame surrounding your pleasure-seeking fantasies. For a seductive individual, there is no guilt in living in a state of joy, fulfillment, and regular indulgence. Remind yourself that you're entitled to enjoy nice things –from your outfits and beauty routine to your meals, workouts, and our home environment. You should (generally) derive pleasure academic pursuits or professional identity, goals, relationships (of all types), and leisure activities.

FFV: Allow yourself to feel deserving. Show up as the person you strive to be. Hold yourself, dress, speak, act, and move through the world in a way you aspire to be. Stop people-pleasing and allow yourself to minimize yourself or your goals for the comfort of others. Your peace of mind is the most sacred element of your being.

SS: Whether you know it or not, your surroundings have an immense influence on you. Who you spend time with, what you talk about with your company, who you follow on social media, what decorations you have in your home, etc. Everything around you influences you. So choose to be surrounded by people and things that make you better. Know your strengths and weaknesses but appreciate and learn from others as well. Remove the people that see with lack, stress and fear. Befriend people who uplift, motivate and inspire you to see abundance and opportunity in all areas.

✦•······················•

Q&A

Q: Do you believe that being a seductive person has more to do with physical appearance or personality? How do you believe someone can show up as a more seductive person through how they present themselves – physically, emotionally, or socially?

SS: I believe seduction is a combination of inner confidence, mental agility and an appealing appearance. Using seduction towards yourself can help with building self confidence and create a positive outlook on how you view yourself and therefore influence other people to treat you with respect.

FFV: I believe that being a seductive person stems from genuine self acceptance of your most authentic desires, unshakable inner confidence, and non-negotiable level of self respect. To embody these qualities, I believe that a seductive person's energy will radiate naturally through their personality into their physical presence through traits, including good posture eye contact, and mannerisms. Similarly, I believe that unwavering self-respect is a care aspect of being a seductive person. So, naturally, I think that a seductive person will embody their character traits through both personality traits like setting strong (healthy) boundaries and taking care of their appearance (excellent hygiene, prioritizing their health, remaining thoughtful when putting themselves together - clean, well-styled outfits, makeup, hairstyles, nails, perfume, etc.).

Q: How do you think you can be a more seductive person in areas of our life outside of your romantic or intimate endeavors? Do you believe that seduction is more of a libidinal or creative energy?

FFV: I believe cultivating your inner seductress/seducer will make you a better conversationalist, writer, speaker, dancer, athlete, chef, project manager, learner, etc. In my eyes, libidinal and creative energy are one and the same. So, I see creative energy, by definition, as the art of transmuting libidinal energy into areas of your life outside of the bedroom and romantic pursuits (think Napoleon Hill's concept of Sex Transmutation as an exercise of will-power in his book, Think and Grow Rich). I think you can be a more seductive person in any area of life that requires confidence, high energy, stream-of-consciousness-level focus (flow state), and, of course, creativity. Anecdotally, I've found that understanding that good writing is akin to good sex & sexual chemistry has been one of the best ways to up-level my professional skillset.

SS: Seduction is a creative practice of attracting your desires, sometimes through material and emotional lures. It isn’t always sexual, but since seduction stimulates emotions it can create pleasure. I believe a person can use seduction in various ways. When most people think of seduction, they think of manipulation or sneakiness but seduction is just a simple art of attracting what you desire at all costs. Having this mindset can help with becoming open minded and relentless when pursuing goals. Instead of settling and accepting what you don’t want, seduction shows you alternative ways to attain your desires and live a life that you truly enjoy. Using seduction in platonic relationships, can help you better understand the needs of others. Such as, putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. When you do this you make that person feel appreciated and heard. This quality alone enriches relationships, friendships and partnerships. Another example is disagreements. Seducers don’t have to argue, they listen and then strategize solutions that everyone can benefit from because no one wants to compromise if there's not anything that they too can benefit from.

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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Zipper Extra VI

Read the rest of Zipper here

@jhughesangel for you :)

Some cavity inducing sweetness (hopefully)

P.S. Sorry I'm writing about the holiday season. Again. I'm sure that's tiring but fall/winter is my favorite time of year and it makes for the most romance in my brain.

~2.2k words

On the first of the month, she began baking. Harry had seen her in action at her place, but now it was their place and coming home some nights after she did to an apartment that smelled like cookies, cinnamon, and apples. It was heavenly and more than ever he wished with everything in him that he hadn’t waited so long to have this moment.

Every space of the apartment was decorated with red berries and greenery and other Christmas décor. The tree stood in the window of the living room overlooking the town. It was beautiful and magical. Harry didn’t even have a tree, the last few years which pained her to no end. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t have one prior to them dating either. The only Christmas tree he saw was the one at his mum’s house. Or at her place.

But they were living together, now. So, every holiday was warm and inviting. It felt like home when he was there. She made it make sense. “S’not our anniversary, right?” He asked, coming to stand behind her. His hands pressed onto the counter on either side of her as he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck as a gentle hello. The rest of his body was warm against her back, his body encasing her between the bowl of chocolate and Harry.

Turning her head as much as she could to get a peripheral look at him, she licked the excess frosting off her thumb, she shook her head. “No, baby. Wrong month,” she giggled.

Harry wrinkled his nose “M’sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted.

“It’s okay. I’ve never really been one for anniversaries,” she shrugged. Yet she always has a present for me. He thought to himself with a frown. “I mean...” she noted the way his body deflated with a sigh. “I think I love you pretty well every day...I think there are worse things in life than forgetting a card or a day where you finally came to your senses,” she twisted in his embrace, and she brought the tip of her finger to his lips so he could have a tasted of the frosting. It was silly and romantic all at once. He gave her finger a gentle bite inciting the most beautiful, little giggle from her. “Does that make sense?” She asked.

“So I should be giving y’a gift every day because m’in love with you all the time,” he nodded with a half grin.

“No,” she laughed and rested her forehead on his chest. “No way. Your gifts? We’d be broke.”

“It would be worth it,” he murmured. “I’d spend every penny I had on you.”

“Absolutely not what I want.”

He chuckled rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “Did you have a good day?”

She nodded. “I won my case,” she murmured into his chest.

“Y’don’t sound very excited over the good news, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head.

“It didn’t feel like winning,” she mumbled. “Sometimes fighting for the top dog doesn’t feel very good.”

Her poor sweet soul. “S’never made any sense t’me that someone as sweet as you would be a corporate lawyer.”

“M’good at it,” she said defensively and pouted as she looked up at him.

“I know you’re good at it, angel,” he nodded. “S’not a question. But morally, your heart is jus’ so much nicer,” he kissed the top of her head. “M’surprised y’don’t cry in court sometimes.”

“S’really hard sometimes,” she admitted.

“Y’don’t have t’be a corporate lawyer if y’don’t want.”

“Yeah...but then I wouldn’t have an office next to yours. We wouldn’t have lunch together..." Harry felt a pang of adoration shoot through him. Like she had personally squeezed the veins of his heart just as a reminder that he adored her so much. "And you’d make way more money than me and I wouldn’t be able to afford living here.”

“Y’could live here for free,” he rolled his eyes--as if money would keep him from her. “Jus’ make y’pay me in kisses...and other things.”

She tilted her head up to look at his face while he gazed down at her. “I love you,” she smiled.

He grinned and shook his head. “Thank goodness,” he murmured and attached his lips to hers. They tasted of chocolate, love, sweetness, and happiness. Perfectly her.

She didn’t like having a blindfold on—especially in public and without a clue of where they were headed. It was chilly but her coat was warm, and Harry had his arm firmly around her waist. One thing she trusted was that Harry would never let her fall. “I am already surprised Harry. Please let me take it off. I must look insane, and people are probably thinking you’re going to kidnap me.”

“I would love t’see someone try and kidnap you,” he chuckled. “Watch y’step, kitten,” he hummed and squeezed her tighter as he brought her up two steps. She had no sense of where they were—not by sight of course—but he had taken her around three different blocks in order to disorient her. The smells didn’t help either because it was a Saturday night. It was Christmas time, and everywhere in the little city smelled and sounded the same. “Think y’would argue with them about how they didn’t tie the blindfold tight enough.”

“The same cannot be said for you,” she wrinkled her nose trying to get the fabric to move around her face. “Is it weird? You’re not going to embarrass me are you?” She asked.

“What on earth d’you think m’going t’do, kitten?” He laughed. “We’re almost there, just a few more steps.”

“I don’t know. Maybe me accidentally taking your towel every morning has finally done you in and you’re going to murder me and hide my body.”

“Kitten, we’re around other people. Please don’t give them ideas.”

“I don’t think you would murder me. But statistically, you’re the one most likely to.”

“M’ignoring you,” he murmured. The people around them gave sympathetic and awkward smiles. “Okay, two steps,” he pressed his hand on her lower back. The back of her calf touched something solid but she hadn’t a clue where she was. It could have been anywhere. But they were still outside. Maybe it was just a bench? Or a wall by the fountain? She had no way of knowing.

“Am I going to be in a blindfold the entire night?”

“No, m’love. M’gonna take it off as soon as y’sit,” he said gently touching her hips to guide her to sitting on the seat behind her. She was quiet as Harry reached behind her head, the palms of his hands sliding softly against her cheeks as he reached. Before he undid the knot, he gently massaged his fingertips into her hair and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. It made her stomach flutter and she felt like she would explode from the way he made her feel.

The moment she opened her eyes she was greeted with Harry’s gorgeous green eyes gazing at her. “God you’re pretty,” he murmured, and she felt a bit dizzy hearing it from his lips—Harry was pretty, too. It took every bit of willpower to tear her eyes away from his gaze. His hand slid into her lap, and he twisted their fingers together while she took in the surroundings. There was a man directing a horse on a perched seat above them an older top hat on his head. The carriage they sat in was white, with red leather seats. Green garland with red berries and Christmas bows draped around them. A set of twinkly lights was hung around the little awning of the carriage as well. Her lips parted as the horse quietly pulled them around the park. There was a dusting of snow, Harry couldn’t have dreamed of a better day to do this. But it was perfect, exactly what he wanted.

Speechless. She was completely and totally speechless.

Harry watched her expression change about a thousand times in one minute trying to make sense of what was happening. “Y’okay, in there?” He asked cupping the side of her face and brushing his thumb on her cheek. “S’this...not what you wanted?” He asked feeling the nerves creep up.

Did she forget their anniversary? No... it wasn’t that. Did he do something wrong? Why was...how did he know?

Maybe this was just something she wanted to do with her ex-boyfriend and not Harry. Maybe this wasn’t something she wanted anymore. “Er...we can...stop, if y’want, kitten. I thought y’would want this...but...maybe I got it wrong, naturally. Thought y’would want to—”

She shook her head trying to shake some sense into her mind and get her brain cells to put together a coherent thought rather than just staring at the scene before her. “No...” she shook her head quickly. “No...this is...Harry this is perfect,” she whispered breathlessly.

He smiled and a relieved sigh left his lungs in the form of a nervous chuckle. “Oh...good,” he pressed his lips against her temple and watched her eyes scanning the park around her. They had been to the park about a thousand times on foot, but seated in a horse drawn carriage, it was as if she had never seen the trees and paths. The light displays and the children milling in front of their parents were completely new to her.

“How...how did you...did you ask my sister about this?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No...”

“Did I tell you about this?” But she was certain she didn’t. She hadn’t thought about a carriage ride in years.

“Uh...no,” he smiled awkwardly giving her hand a squeeze. “When we were studying one time...y’were all upset ‘bout your ex not planning dates or whatever. You were on the phone with your sister and y’said y’wanted a Christmas carriage ride.”

Her heart felt like it was melting. “You...heard that?” She sounded so stunned. Harry was a bit worried about her well-being. She seemed completely out of sorts. To him, this was the only thing that made sense. In fact, he should have planned this when they first started dating. In his mind, this was nearly three years too late. Lord, knew it was over a decade too late for her sweet self. “You...remember that?”

He smiled, squeezing her hand in her lap again. With his freehand he brought it to her face again and brushed his thumb across her face. “I know...I know y’have forgiven me for...how mean I was—”

“You weren’t mean.”

“Well, I wasn’t nice t’you, kitten. S’well as being mean. Y’deserve nothing but kindness. You’re the sweetest soul I know.” She wanted to respond but she felt like there was more he wanted to say, and her throat was closing around the warm emotion she felt the longer he spoke. “M’sorry, again. For all that I put you through.”

It wasn’t that bad. She couldn’t tell him enough. She knew it ate at him like nothing else, so she simply nodded. “I know you’re sorry. But really...it’s alright, baby. I know—”

“Shh,” he hushed pressing a finger to her lips. “M’not done.” She felt like the blindfold was placed around her lips at his words. It was so perfect. The right temperature, the right scene, the perfect guy.

“Okay,” she murmured.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully forgive myself,” he admitted. “But m’so glad I figured out how I felt. M’so sorry it took me s’long. More than being mean t’you...I don’t know if I’ll forgive myself for taking s’long. Wasting all that time we could have been together. But I don’t want t’waste time ever again,” he promised.

He kept hold of her hand as he shifted from the seat to the floor of the carriage balancing on one knee and digging into his coat pocket as if he did this all the time. He pinched the small box in his grip with his free hand. She couldn’t even see inside the box, but she knew that her heart was going to explode when she did. So, it was for the best that she didn’t get to see it. “Y’make me so happy. You’re m’favorite person t’wake up to. T’come home to. Before you, I never even thought ‘bout marriage. It only makes sense when I think ‘bout you,” he was rushing his words a bit. Like when he first told her how much he liked her and how he would be a shitty boyfriend.

He was anything but.

“I don’t know if I’ll get better at remembering anniversaries and birthdays but God, kitten. I want t’try with you. Because y’deserve the best and m’not sure if s’me that’s best for you but I want to be. I want t’take you on carriage rides and make sugar cookies with our little babies that will look jus’ like you and take them t’soccer practice on weekends. I know s’not anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten. Inside or out,” he never made sense when he was spilling all the emotions directly from his heart, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She thought she might cry if he spoke any longer.

“Please, marry me,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

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coff33andb00ks · 11 days ago

Text

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 5/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 3,764 warnings: suggestive language, brief mentions of miscarriage soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

Susie and Esteban's great room was warm and inviting as always, and Natalie spent a few minutes admiring the newer décor and photos while Lando helped settle Maddie on one of the couches.

"You'll call me if you feel any pain?" he asked worriedly.

"Of course, babe," Maddie promised him.

"No wine."

Maddie sighed. "I don't even like wine."

"Still." Lando tucked a blanket over her and leaned to kiss her. "Have fun. I love you."

"Love you too."

Natalie joined in the chorus of 'Awww' that rang out from Susie, Sasha, Amira, and Lilli. Giggling when Lando straightened up, his cheeks red, she followed Susie into the kitchen to get the wine, grabbing a cold water from the fridge for Maddie.

"Did you send the kids off with Estie?" Sasha asked once they were all settled in the great room.

"They're staying the night at Grandma's," Susie explained, plucking some olives off the charcuterie board.

"Operation Third Child is underway," Amira said in a stage whisper.

Natalie nearly choked on her wine, laughing when Susie threw a cushion at Amira.

"We're thinking about it!"

"You've been practicing since Michael was born," Sasha teased.

"I didn't want three. But… Thankfully we can afford another. And Estie loves kids—"

"Almost as much as he loves horses," Natalie finished with a grin.

Susie turned to Maddie. "How are the babies?" she asked, obviously ready for a change in subject. Her beloved corgi, Rusty, jumped up onto the couch, tucking himself at Maddie's side.

Maddie exhaled harshly, sagging back with a dramatic groan. "I feel like I've been pregnant for ten years."

"Is the bed rest terrible?" Amira asked with a frown.

"It's not so bad, really. I can be up to take a shower or move to the couch. I take a lot of naps and watch a lot of YouTube and read a lot of books." She held up the small tote bag she'd brought with her. "I taught myself how to knit. It's just boring. And Lando's always fussing over me. Worried that I'll go into early labor if I sneeze too hard."

"Bless him, he just wants you and the babies to be okay," Lilli said gently.

Maddie smiled. "Yeah, I know. But really the only downside to sneezing too hard is sometimes I pee on myself."

Pouring herself more wine, Natalie made a face as Susie and Maddie began discussing pregnancy side effects. Next to her, Sasha's expression grew horrified as constipation and hemorrhoids were brought up. Natalie noticed she hadn't touched her wine and tipped her head thoughtfully. She knew that her friend and Carlos had been trying. There had been false positives, a devastating miscarriage, and as far as she knew they'd stopped trying for the time being.

"We adopted a cat," Sasha blurted when there was a pause in the conversation. She still looked a little pale, and picked up a cracker to munch on. "Carlos surprised me with her this afternoon."

They all oohed and ahhed at the pictures of the gray cat, who Sasha had named Yoko. Sasha smiled at her phone screen then set her phone down.

"We're not telling anyone. Don't want to jinx it or anything," she mumbled. "But we're pregnant. Due late July."

They crowed their congratulations, Susie hurrying to the kitchen to get a bottle of sparkling cider to celebrate.

God, she'd missed this. The love and laughter and support of her girls. It didn't matter that more than half of them were married and having children. They'd always be her girls. Sipping her sparkling cider, she couldn't help but smile, remembering the sleepovers they'd had as children, then as teens. Between the six of them there had been so much laughter and so many tears. Leaning against Sasha, she congratulated her again.

"What about you and George?" Maddie asked Lilli.

"No babies," Lilli laughed. "We're thinking of getting a cat. And we're renovating the bookshop after the new year."

"You should ask that new guy – Oscar? – to help you out. Have y'all seen the old Alonso place?" Maddie shifted, reaching for her water. "Lando drove me by on the way here and it looks amazing."

"He helped Estie and Pato put in the new stable door," Susie put in, standing from the couch when the doorbell rang. "That's the pizza, I'll get it."

"I'll tell George to ask Oscar. We've had some contractors in to give us an estimate and they all seem to think we have millions lying around," Lilli snorted. "But I've heard he's not staying around once he finishes the house?"

"Really? Carlos showed him Mr. Wright's house," Sasha said.

Four pairs of eyes turned to Natalie.

"Don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands. "I barely know the guy."

"You were dancing in the snow with him," Amira said, arching an eyebrow.

"Not with him – how do you even know about that?"

"Lilli told me."

"Sasha told me."

"It was cute," Sasha said with a grin. "I saw you when me and Carlos were leaving yesterday."

"We weren't dancing together, though – He gave me a ride home last week in the rain and we had this conversation about dancing in the rain and then Pierre called and ruined it. Then yesterday it was snowing and I just—" Natalie cut off abruptly, realizing the mood in the room had soured at the mention of her former fiancé.

"Ugh, Pierre." Susie set the pizza boxes on the coffee table.

"That prick," Maddie muttered. "Has he bothered you anymore?"

"He was bothering you?" Amira looked ready to fight.

"Carlos has a friend that lives in the same building. If I bribe him with good wine, he can arrange an accident," Sasha offered.

Lilli swirled her wine in her glass. "There's a hog farm off Route 22…"

They all dissolved into laughter at that, Natalie shaking her head as she began serving the pizza. "I deleted his number and blocked him."

"Good for you," Susie said proudly.

"Dad called him an absolute cunt," Natalie sighed. "I used to be upset that they didn't like each other, but… Maybe sometimes dads do know better."

"Is Mark having his knee replacement soon?" Amira asked. "Pato said Franco and Ollie were asked to work more hours."

Natalie nodded, biting into her pizza. "He meets with the surgeon tomorrow afternoon, and as long as his tests go alright he'll be having surgery the first week of January."

"Thank God," Lilli murmured. "And you're staying a while, right?"

"I guess so. I'm getting a crash course in running a bakery over the next few weeks. But knowing Dad, he'll be FaceTiming me from the operating room to remind me how many times to fold croissant dough."

"Mm, croissants," Maddie sighed.

Grinning, Natalie made a mental note to take Maddie a few fresh croissants the next day.

"But you're okay aren't you? With the breakup?" Sasha inquired gently.

"I guess. The longer I go the more I realize what an absolute asshole he is. He even called Dad today."

Her friends groaned in unison.

"Dad hung up on him."

"Good for Mark."

"Yeah fuck that guy."

"Not literally."

"She already did that."

"Ooo that's what you need, to get fucked properly!"

"Nah, she needs a cat."

"I have a cat. Trust me, I still felt better after getting properly fucked."

"Sex isn't the answer to everything."

"Maybe not but it's a damned good start!"

"I hope the baby horse likes me."

"Horsey."

"Mister Estie said he'd walk me around the corral."

"Me walk."

"Mama says I can take riding lessons."

"Horsey!"

The second utterance of the word was more of a squeal, and Oscar smiled indulgently as he turned onto the winding driveway leading to the farmhouse. On either side were pastures, the one on the right having four horses, all of which were standing close to each other. Majestic heads turned to watch as he slowly drove by, and Lucas's excitement reached new levels when one broke from the pack and began trotting along the fence line.

It had been Esteban's idea for him to bring Grace and Lucas out to the house to see the new foal. Oscar had been grateful for the invitation, having started to run out of fun things to entertain them with while Max was busy at the bank going over property details. Turning at the end of the drive and into the little parking area, he parked and turned off the engine.

"Okay, guys, what are the rules?" he asked, checking the time on his phone.

"Be good," Grace said while unbuckling the straps of Michael's car seat.

"And?"

"No asking for a pony."

"One more."

Grace sighed. "Mister Estie might be cute but I can't tell him so. I don't know why. Isn't it nice to tell someone they're cute?"

"Not if they're married," Oscar said, biting back a chuckle.

"Can I tell Michael that he's cute?"

"I guess."

"Too bad he eats boogers," the girl mourned, turning around on the seat to stare out the rear window.

"What?" Oscar asked in horror.

"All boys eat boogers."

"No we don't!"

"Mama said so!" Grace pulled her face from the glass. "Mama doesn't lie!"

"She just doesn't want you to – Not all boys – Put your jacket on," he groaned, opening the door. "I'll talk to your mother later."

"That means Mama's in trouble," Grace whispered to her brother.

"Mommy?" Lucas pouted.

"Don't worry, Lucas." Oscar motioned for Grace to climb out, then waved for Lucas to do the same. Catching the boy before he could dive out of the truck, he set him on the ground, then reached to grab Grace's sleeve before she could dart to the fence to touch the black horse staring at her. "What did I tell you about running off?"

"To not to," she sighed. "I wasn't – Mister Estie!"

"Hey!" Esteban greeted, starting to grin as he strode across the yard.

"Is Michael here?"

"He's on the way. He went with Susie and Hannah to get some cookies from the bakery."

"Cookie?" Lucas hurried to Esteban and stared up at him. "Me cookie?"

"Cookies for everybody." Esteban grinned down at him and lightly tousled his hair. "C'mon, let's go see the baby."

The man looked tired, but it was what Oscar thought of as a happy tired. It was similar to how Max had looked after the births of his kids. He knew that, to Esteban and Susie, the horses were just an extension of their family, and they were undoubtedly experiencing the euphoric exhaustion of a newborn. He walked along to the stable, half-listening as Esteban pointed out things to the kids, who seemed on the brink of breaking into full speed so they could reach the stable to see the foal.

Grace talked rapidly, asking questions then starting another before Esteban could get his full answer out. When they entered the stable she lowered her voice to a reverent tone, keeping close to Esteban's side as he led them to the end stall.

"Listen, her mama's sometimes nervous, okay? Just keep your voices down and she'll be fine." Esteban said gently. Metal scraped as he unlatched the upper half of the stall door. He swung it open and clicked his tongue gently, grinning when there was an answering whicker. "Hey, Bonny, baby, you got some visitors."

Shaking his head, Oscar could only grin while Esteban sweet-talked the horse, whose head poked out. After a few moments Esteban opened the bottom half and squatted down. Bonny investigated the back of his head, snuffling at his hair, then turned away with a disinterested snort. Oscar knew the instant the foal came forward, because Michael gave a small squeal and Grace cooed.

"Daddy!" a voice called from the door of the stable. Oscar turned and saw Michael running towards them, Susie and Hannah following him at a slower place. "Grace!"

"Son, keep it down," Esteban said, motioning for Grace and Lucas to step closer.

"What's her name?" Grace asked, giving the foal's nose a tentative rub.

"We—"

"Natalie," Michael announced, thrusting a bag of carrot sticks at his father. "For Bonny."

"We're not naming her Nat—"

"Natalie," the boy said.

"She needs a name that reflects her lineage, not—"

"Babe," Susie said as she approached. "Let it go."

"Her name is Chicory,” Esteban insisted.

"Natalie is a nice name," Grace said, tipping her head back to look up at Bonny.

"Nattie," Lucas agreed.

"Couldn't we name her Natalie Chicory, Daddy?" Hannah asked.

Esteban groaned and looked at Oscar. "Help me out here, man."

"My vote wouldn't sway the majority."

The man shook his head with a sigh. "We'll think about it."

"My daddy says that all the time." Grace accepted a carrot stick from Esteban and held it up to Bonny. "It means yes."

"It doesn't always mean yes," Esteban told her, waiting until Grace had fed another carrot stick to the horse before lifting Lucas so he could do the same.

"Yes it does." Grace returned her attention to the foal.

"No, it doesn't."

"Are you coming to the bazaar tonight, Oscar?" Susie asked while her husband and Grace continued their repetitive disagreement.

"Yeah, probably. Do you have a booth?"

Susie laughed softly. “No. I'll probably help Natalie out. She's doing the bakery booth."

Oscar frowned. He and Natalie had made tentative plans to stroll through the bazaar together. "Mark's not gonna be there?"

"I just saw her at the bakery. His knee's hurting so bad he's going to take some painkillers and lie down." Susie sighed. "I can't wait for him to get the replacement. Esteban's uncle had one last year and he was back to normal within weeks. Wasn't he, babe?"

"Steve was never normal," Esteban snorted, overseeing Lucas as he fed the last of the carrot sticks to Bonny.

"You know what I mean." Susie stepped close to her husband, and while he flashed her a grin she moved to love on Bonny, who whickered softly in appreciation, dipping her head to rest it on Susie's shoulder.

Esteban sighed, flashing Oscar a disgruntled look. "Sometimes I don't know if she married me for me or my horses."

"Definitely the horses," Susie said. "Isn’t that right, Bonny Lass?"

Grace tugged on Esteban's arm and gazed up at him adoringly. "I'd marry you, Mister Estie."

"Grace."

"What?" She blinked her big brown eyes at Oscar. "I didn't tell him he's cute!"

"She thinks I'm cute," Esteban told his wife, smirking. "You've got competition, baby."

"I'll be sure and tell Eve, she'll have your balls for breakfast."

Laughing, Oscar reached for Lucas when he made a move to step into the stall. After a round of goodbyes and thank-yous to the foal and Bonny, Esteban closed the door and led them to the corral, where two horses were saddled and waiting. He watched, a little anxiously, as the kids were lifted into the saddles.

"They'll be fine," Susie promised, joining him at the fence while Esteban swung Michael up into the saddle with Lucas. "Esteban's an excellent teacher."

"I know."

"The girls are on Chaps. She's one of our beginner horses. If Esteban's in front of her, she'll follow him anywhere. She's gentle and sweet. Esteban rescued her from being euthanized ten years ago, and she's the perfect horse for a child to learn on." Susie's face glowed with love, and Oscar wasn't sure if it was for the horses or her husband. "The boys are on Merry Legs. He's a senior we rescued from an abandoned farm the year before Lucas was born. We don't know his history, but he's excellent with kids. He won't move until Esteban tells him to."

"I trust you both," Oscar promised, pulling out his phone to get a few pictures. "Eve and Max trust you, too, or they'd have said I couldn't bring them out."

"Speaking of Max…" Susie turned to face him, nearly blocking his view of the kids. "What business is he buying?"

"Who said he's buying a business?"

"Esteban."

"Then ask Esteban?" he suggested, eyes on the screen of his phone.

"He doesn't have a clue. You've been around him enough to know that unless it involves horses or food or whiskey he doesn't pay attention."

Oscar chuckled, because she was right. "He pays attention to you and the kids."

"Of course he does, we're the second loves of his life."

"What's his first?"

Susie gestured behind her. "Take a guess."

"I'm sure if he had to choose…" Lifting his eyebrows when she snorted, he grinned and resumed taking pictures. "I concede to your more intimate knowledge of him."

"Anyway, what business is Max buying?"

Oscar shook his head. "Not my business."

"You're his friend."

"Yep."

"And you're really not gonna tell me." She looked almost offended.

"Ask him?"

"Is he coming to the bazaar tonight?"

"Yeah. He and Eve just got to town a couple hours ago." Oscar watched Esteban lead the horses in a slow circle around the corral. "But he probably won't tell you."

Susie sighed and turned to lean against the fence again. "I thought you were open and easygoing."

"Hardly."

"I'm easygoing and open."

"You're a bulldog."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know how in old cartoons a dog would bite someone in the ass and not let go?"

She gaped at him, made a startled sound, then folded her arms over her chest. "And to think I'm trying to push you and Natalie together."

"I appreciate that, Susie, but we're doing just fine without your interference," he said without thinking, looking to his phone when it buzzed with an incoming message. Smiling at the sight of Natalie's name, he opened it, smile fading as he read her words about her father. The last line made his smile disappear.

I'm worried because he never lets the pain get the better of him.

"Have you asked her out?" He barely noticed the excited interest in the woman's voice.

"I'm working on it," he muttered. Life, it seemed, had other plans. He tried to think of comforting words that wouldn't sound unoriginal. Finally he settled on a question.

Do you need anything? I'm free.

"How are you working on it?"

Lifting his head, he squinted at Susie. "Huh?"

"You said you're working on asking her out. What, exactly, do you have planned?"

"Nothing yet."

She huffed with annoyance, waving to the kids as they circled by them. "What are you waiting for?"

"Her to be ready," he said, glancing down at his phone to see a message from Natalie appear on the screen.

I can't think of anything. Unless you want to bring Penny by for a visit? He loves her. He just laid down, though, so it probably wouldn't be a fun visit for her.

Two seconds later another message appeared.

Tell me he's going to be okay.

Oscar sighed. "Excuse me a minute," he said to Susie, stepping away from the fence. A chill wind swept through, making him shiver in his jacket and think of more snow. There was little evidence of the snow the previous weekend, save for bits here and there, where there was no sunshine to melt it. Calling Natalie, he brought the phone to his ear, eyes on Lucas and Grace as they were led around and around.

"Oscar?" Natalie sounded surprised.

"He's gonna be okay," he said without greeting.

"I know," she sighed.

"Did he take something?"

"He did, complaining a little about how he doesn't like drugs. That's how I know it's bad." Her voice sounded small. She sounded scared and worried. "I need to get to the bakery and load up the stuff for the bazaar but I don't want to leave him just yet."

"I'll do it," he offered.

"Really?"

"Of course. What time can the booth be set up?"

"Ollie and Franco are down at the green now getting the decorations up. I'm supposed to meet them in two hours to start setting everything out."

"I'm out at Esteban and Susie's with the kids," he said, looking on as the horses stopped near Susie. She helped them down, and Grace immediately scrambled over the fence and began running to him, her exuberance shining on her face. "I'll probably be here for another hour or so, then I'll come over, okay?"

"I really appreciate it, Oscar."

"I don't mind."

"I know," she whispered. "I've got to call Franco and Ollie and let them know."

"It's gonna work out," he assured her, holding up a finger before Grace could start squealing about her ride. "I'll be there in a little bit. And I'll bring Penny."

"Thank you."

Ending the call, he pushed his phone into his pocket, listening when the girl began to enthuse over her first horse ride. They walked back to Susie, Michael, Hannah, and Lucas, who had started asking about cookies, and he followed everyone into the old farmhouse that seemed to radiate warmth and love as soon as he stepped inside. There was cocoa for the kids, coffee for he and Susie, and Esteban when he joined them a few moments later, and an assortment of cookies. He had originally planned to enjoy a leisurely visit, mainly because Eve had mentioned she wanted a nap but also because he knew the kids liked Michael and Hannah, but as soon as he'd finished his coffee he began to encourage them to finish their snack so they could head back to town.

"Eat and leave?" Esteban asked, squatting to tie Lucas’s shoe.

"Sorry," Oscar sighed, holding Grace's jacket so she could push her arms into the sleeves. "I'm going to help Natalie out."

"You asked her out yet?"

"Did Susie put you up to that?"

"No." He stood, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. "I figured it out on my own, since I heard you were dancing in the snow last weekend."

"This town is full of spies," Oscar muttered. “Besides, she danced, I was just there.”

"Pie?" Lucas looked around hopefully. "Mis'er Estie, pie?"

"Do you think about anything but sweets, kid?" Esteban asked, laughing.

"Mommy an' Daddy," the boy said. When Grace cleared her throat he grinned. "Grace."

"You danced in the snow?" Grace asked Oscar. "With Miss Natalie?"

"Nattie pie!"

"We're going to get pies from Natalie now," Oscar told him, ignoring Grace's question. "Pies and cookies and brownies and gingerbread people…"

"Cookies!"

"Don't let him loose around them, there won't be any to sell," Esteban warned.

#f1 #oscar piastri #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #my writings > op > xmas #oscar piastri x oc #f1 x oc

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