#me????? taking that ask you sent about her sleeping next to a tree??? and that tree being | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

httpiastri · 1 year ago

Text

this christmas – op81

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

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

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

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

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

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

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

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

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

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

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

and then, you were just two.

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

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

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

"a month has never felt this long before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

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

"hey, i just wanted to-"

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod. "yeah, it does."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"exactly."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"is this okay?"

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

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

"give me your other foot."

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

compose yourself, woman.

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

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

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

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

shit.

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

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

"oh, no skiing?"

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

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

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

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

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

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

"but oscar promised to come along?"

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

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

"w-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i don't believe it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"touché."

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

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

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

"indeed..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and when he asks, you tell.

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

and then, he tells you his side.

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"and what does that mean?!"

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

"what kind of plan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

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

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

the mistletoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh, is that so?"

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

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

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

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

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

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

yet again, instant boner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"as you wish."

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

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

"just you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"apologize. now."

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

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

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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callsign-mimic · 20 days ago

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@charliemwrites went and made a wonderful new OC, who you can read about [here]

So, naturally, I had to write a fic for them :3

Content Warnings: A/B/O (kinda) dynamics, descriptions of violence and drug use, reality adjacent Mimic rather than OC Mimic

A Part of the Pack

Chapter One

It was three in the morning when the shrill ring of the phone woke Mimic from a dead sleep. It wasn’t her cellphone. The ringer on that once never having been on since she got it. No, this was the small flip phone tucked away in the drawer of the nightstand. Never touched, but always charged and on.

Mimic groans, roughly pulling the drawer open, fishing around inside of it, and grabbing the phone.

“I’m retired, Kate.” She practically growls into the receiver.

“Only mostly.” Kate Laswell replies, sounding amused more than anything. Not that she was in any way surprised by Mimic’s less-than-pleased greeting. “The boys have a mission comings up. And they need a thief.”

“I’m not a hobbit, Kate.” Mimic grumbles, sitting up and wiping her sloppily bleached mop of hair out of her face. “Besides, I’m sure you can find someone else to do stealth and retrieval for them.”

“Not on short notice, and definitely not someone who works so well with them. Especially not now that they have an Alpha.” Laswell says. “Price also requested you personally. Besides, you’re definitely small enough to be a hobbit.”

“Remind me to be offended about the hobbit thing later. What do you mean they have an Alpha now?”

“It was high time they got one, and I promise this won’t be like the last time you had to work with an Alpha you didn’t already know.”

“I don’t think I could handle a repeat of having a teammate trying to rip my throat out, no.” Mimic says flatly, pinching the bridge of her nose as the memories flash through her barely awake mind. Monroe had been an asset to the team, but a drug fueled, pre-rut rage had sent her off the deep end. She had tried to force herself on another Omega, and Mimic had been the one to try and stop her. “I suppose I should collar up, despite my scent being pretty much nonexistent, huh?”

“You don’t have to worry about Saint snorting near lethal amounts of cocaine. And yes, wear your collar, please. The muzzle too, my little bite risk.”

“Monroe deserved it. But since you asked so nicely…”

“That’s my girl.” Laswell says, laughing when she hears Mimic’s poor attempt to cover her soft trill at the praise. “Get packed. I’ll have you picked up within the next two hours.”

~*~

All five members of Task Force 141 were waiting on the tarmac when Mimic stepped off the plane. Her pale blue eyes trace over the four familiar men before landing on Saint. The sight of the massive Alpha gives her a moment’s pause, even with them standing at a polite distance from their Omegas. Her nose twitches behind her muzzle as she looks them over quickly, taking in the soft curls in their dark hair, the steely grey eyes over their own muzzle. Christ on a cracker, they’re fuckin huge… Mimic thinks to herself, before Price takes her attention by stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

“Good to see you, Mim.” He says, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a tight hug. “Been too long, actually. Hope your little hidey-hole in the woods has been treating you well.”

Mimic chirps as Price practically crushes her against his broad chest. He turns, leading her to the rest of the team with an arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Soap’s initial grin at her arrival morphs into a snarl as he sees both the muzzle and collar on Mimic.

“Oi! Get that feckin thing off yer face!” He snaps, surging forward. Ghost grabs the collar of his shirt to hold him back and keep him from storming up to her and practically tearing the muzzle off her face.

“It’s just to be proper, Soap. Chill.” Mimic says defensively. The sound of ripping fabric has her climbing Price like a tree to perch precariously on his shoulders and out of reach of the enraged Scotsman. Who seemed more than happy to ruin his own clothes if it meant getting his hands on her. And getting that stupid muzzle off of one of his best friends.

“Fuck proper!” He snarls, his ruined shirt hanging off of him as Ghost wraps a large hand around his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Ain’t right! Not for ye! Yer one o’ us! Ye shouldnae be wearing those!”

Saint catches Soap around his waist, pulling him back and pressing their muzzle into his hair. Mimic can’t hear them speak, though she can just barely register the subharmonic rumble of their voice from their distance. And she notices how Soap immediately relaxes against his Alpha, albeit begrudgingly.

“Come on, pet.” Price says, helping Mimic back to the ground. “Let’s get you settled. It’ll be the usual rotation. You’ll stay in my room tonight.”

Mimic can feel Saint’s eyes on her as she lets Price lead her into the base. Interloper already causing trouble in the pack. Great first impression, dumbass. She thinks bitterly, adjusting her duffel bag on her shoulder as if she was trying the shift the sudden weight of guilt she now carried.

~*~

After Soap had been calmed enough to finally accept the collar and muzzle on Mimic, he waste no time in scenting her. He had her pinned beneath him on the floor of the den, rubbing insistently against the collar covering her scarred scent glands.

“Let the poor girl breathe, Tav.” Gaz says with a chuckle. He was lounging on the couch, watching the two of them with an easy grin. Patiently waiting his turn to do the exact same thing.

“S’been three years.” Soap whines, his stubble rasping against Mimic’s pale cheek as he nuzzles against her face. “She disnnae smell like us anymore. Gotta fix it.”

“Don’t smell like anything anymore…” Mimic says, managing to squirm out from beneath Soap only for Gaz to pounce on her and start scenting her himself.

“Not true, luv.” He purrs, making his own scent mingle with Soap’s on her collar. “It’s still there. Just very faint. Petrichor and oakwood. Perfect for a pretty little woodland cryptid like yourself.”

Saint sits at the far end of the den with Price. Watching as Ghost scoops the small Omega away from Soap and Gaz to add his own scent to her. Providing comfort. Reminding her just how much they cared about her. Showing just how much they missed her.

They cock their head to the side when Mimic mentions not having a scent. A move that Price notices in his periphery as he continues to watch the other four.

“Three years ago, our Mim got into a nasty fight with a pre-rut Alpha named Monroe.” He says, sharp blue eyes watching Mimic’s bright smile behind the cage of her muzzle. “Monroe had tried to force herself on a young private, and Mimic made it a point to get in the way. Monroe tried to rip her throat out for it, but she’s a scrappy wee thing. Put up a hell of a fight, but she was a bloody mess by the time the private had managed to return with help.”

“Where Monroe had tried, Mimic had succeeded.” Price continues, watching Gaz and Soap pile on top of Mimic and Ghost on the couch. He looks up at Saint. “It turned out that Monroe had a nearly lethal amount of cocaine in her system. We’re lucky Mimic didn’t bleed out, because she had ingested enough of Monroe’s blood that the drug was affecting her. She paid for it, though. Her scent glands are damn near nonexistent now. Mostly just scar tissue. And, to my understanding, the trauma done to them had pretty much stopped her heat cycle.” His voice drops, a bitter edge lacing through it. “On top of that, the whole ordeal is why she’s been requested to wear the muzzle. Her price for defending a teammate.”

“She was forced to retire, and labeled a bite risk.” Price’s hands curl into tight fists in his lap. “And what did she do? After all that? She put herself into isolation. Staying cooped up in that tiny cabin in the woods for three years. Completely off the radar. No contact. I’m lucky Laswell had a way to get ahold of her. Mim is a hell of a soldier, and her skill are invaluable. But she’s also an amazing individual. She doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life in isolation.”

Saint watches Mimic, just barely able to pick up the sound of her purr as she cuddled with the rest of their pack. She looked content, entirely at peace in the arms of the three larger Omegas. And with the way their pack clearly adored her, Saint wanted to be sure they would be able to protect her during the mission.

When she would be one of Saint’s, if only temporarily.

A part of the pack.

“I need her scent. For the mission.” Saint says, keeping their voice as quiet as possible. Even at this distance, the subharmonic rumble of their vocalization risked upsetting the small Omega. Already skittish around the silent Alpha that dwarfed her. So desperate to show them respect. Show them that she wasn’t a threat. Wasn’t trying to move in on their turf in any way. It was obvious to Saint that the fight with Monroe had damaged more than just Mimic’s scent glands.

“Aye, I suppose you do.” Price says, looking up at his Alpha, dark blue eyes glinting with amusement. “I’ll talk to her about it before bed tonight. She’s a good girl. She’ll work with you, no matter how standoffish she might seem.” He leans into Saint, looking back over at the four individuals piled on the couch. The den filled with the sounds of their contented purrs.

“It’s faint. Barely there, really.” Price murmurs, his heart aching at how small Mimic looks curled up against Ghost’s chest. “But once you know it, you’ll never miss it. She may not think it’s noticeable, but the boys and I could pick her out of a crowd without issue. Even after three years.”

A silent understanding passes between them as Price looks back up at his Alpha, and Saint nods. They had a while before the missions still. Plenty of time to learn Mimic’s scent and make her more comfortable around them.

Unfortunately for Saint, the latter was easier said than done.

#mimic writes #cod ocs #charliemwrites #playing barbies with our ocs #reality adjacent mimic #saint the silent alpha #charlie straight up said her goal was for me to be feral for saint #so here we are lol

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 4 months ago

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Cocooned

Lee Harker x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: autistic overwhelm times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 0.8k

Summary: You're wildly overstimulated, but you never seem notice until it gets out of hand. Thankfully, your girlfriend does.

NOTE(S): Lee is autistic and I am willing to fight about it. Also, autistic x autistic girlfriends are my favorite thing in the world. Yeah, sure, I'm biased because I'm autistic, but... I don't know I just think it'd be the best thing in the world to have someone who gets it, you know?? P.S. I am not usually a horror movies person, but someone called Longlegs a modern-day Silence of the Lambs, and I'm an absolute simp for Clarice Starling, so it's no surprise here that bbg Lee Harker now falls into the same category.

You glanced at the clock as you heard the door open and shut. 3:30 PM. Awfully early for Lee to be home. A few moments later, she knocked quietly at the open door of your home office. You swiveled your chair around to look at her. She smiled softly at you. That’s how everything was with Lee. Quiet, soft–just how you liked it.

“You’re home early,” you observed.

Lee shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Carter sent me home. Not much to go on until the techs finish processing the scene.”

You nodded, trying hard to pay attention despite the harsh afternoon light glaring in through the window and the mechanical din from the edge of the property, where the neighbors were having work done on their tree line. Even the record spinning on the turntable was becoming a bit too much for you.

Lee furrowed her eyebrows, watching you intently.

“What?” you asked, flushing a little under her gaze.

“You’re rocking.”

She nodded toward your body, rocking forward and back in your office chair. She noticed more, but didn’t quite have the words to tell you. She noticed your jaw was clenched. She noticed that your breathing was faster than usual, a bit uneven. She noticed your foot bouncing against the hardwood floor, your fists clenched against the armrests of your chair, even the slight squint in your eyes every time you turned toward the window.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s like pulling teeth, getting work done today.”

Lee watched you a moment longer, then tilted her head toward the hallway.

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Just come on,” she insisted, taking your hand gently in hers and pulling you down the hall and into the bedroom. Your body immediately relaxed in the dim, diffused light of your sleeping space. But you didn’t have time for a nap.

You eyed her suspiciously. “Lee, I still have work to do.”

“I know.” She gestured at the bed. “Lay down. Please,” she added after you hesitated.

You did as she told you, curling on your side to watch her, still unsure what she was trying to accomplish here. Lee draped the quilt over you, pulling it up over your forehead so that it formed a dim, little cave without inhibiting your breathing or your sight. Then she pulled the weighted blanket from the chest at the end of the bed and covered you in that as well, careful to ensure the weight was evenly distributed, and that you were completely covered from the base of your neck all the way down to your toes.

Your breathing slowed and anxiety leached out of your body. How did she know? How did she always know exactly what you needed?

She leaned down to peek into your cocoon, smirking at you. You just looked so cute. Your little face peeking out from under all those blankets. “Better?” she asked.

You nodded. “Mmhm. But–”

“Shh.” Lee pecked you on the lips to cut you off, leaving you flustered and warm and content in your dimly-lit blanket shell. “Be right back.”

When Lee returned a few minutes later, she carried your laptop, setting it up in front of you so you could continue working. Silently, you watched her change into sweats and dig through her bag, pulling out a stack of case files. She sat on the bed next to you, legs crossed, leaning back against the headboard as she opened a folder and started to read.

It was quiet, almost silent, except for the shuffling of Lee’s papers when she turned a page. And you were struck, all at once, by an almost overwhelming surge of love for her. Your girlfriend, who knew you so well, who knew what you needed before you did, who was so much like you and so different at the same time. You loved her smiles because they were fleeting and lovely and just for you. You loved the way she bit her lip when she was particularly focused. You loved that when she took care of you, like today, she expected nothing in return, acted as if she was just doing what she always did. And, in a sense, she was. But she didn’t realize how rare she was, how beautiful, how ethereal. And you couldn’t quite believe you’d found one another, found someone you fit together with so well.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning your head against her protruding knee as you resumed your work, typing softly.

Lee didn’t say anything in response. Sometimes she didn’t, and that was okay. After all, you didn’t always have much to say either. Instead, she ran her hand through your hair, ruffling it at the top before carefully putting the blanket back, adjusting the way it lay on the top of your head to make sure you could still see your laptop screen.

You kept your head against her knee as you both worked, time seemingly at a standstill here in your quiet, peaceful den. Just to know that she was there, just to hear her breathing, to feel her solid and real next to you–it was enough. It was more than enough.

#lee harker #lee harker x reader #lee harker x fem!reader #lee harker x autistic!reader #lee harker fanfic #longlegs #longlegs fanfic

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skyahri · 6 months ago

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Remember P3 |SatoSugu X Reader| HC

Part Two - Part Four Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I was planning the story out and then I got this weird block and ugh. Enjoy!

- - - - -

Suguru sighs at the sight before him. You're passed out at your desk, contorted in an odd way that's sure to have your back hurting in the morning. There's empty cans of Redbull and worked through notebooks strewn about the area.

He should've known better than to fall asleep first. It's just past five am. He isn't sure how long you had stayed up after he eventually dosed off around midnight.

You had a habit of ignoring your basic needs and often relied on the people around you to set you straight, a quality he found both tragic and charming. Right now, he was just glad it was Saturday, so you didn't have to deal with the consequences during class.

He slides one arm under your awkwardly bent knees and the other under your back, tilting you towards him so you can fall into his broad chest. You hardly stir, and he has a passive thought about how easy it would be for a curse to catch you off guard right now.

His eyes wander briefly to the journals on your desk. He's a rational man, but surely anyone would be tempted to look, right? His future, his life, maybe even his death, hastily scribbled down in glittery purple gel ink right in front of him.

This could be his only opportunity to see what no one aside from you ever has. His only shot before they're sealed away in the school's catacombs, never to be seen by another again.

"Don't."

His destructive train of thought is quickly shut down with just one word. He swallows nervously, embarrassed to have been caught pondering something stupid. He peeks down at you. Your eyes are still closed, but your hand is resting on his chest, almost like a subtle warning of sorts.

He shifts you slightly, readjusting his grip to hold you more steady. You lull your head against him and breathe in his scent. He's wearing the same cologne he's had since your first year, the same one you could still smell on him after his death.

"You're awake, yet you let me carry you to bed like a child."

He's teasing you, trying to break the stiff atmosphere he's unintentionally created. You aren't sure if he was playing off his own behavior, or if he had sensed a change in yours, but you were grateful for it either way.

"I'm letting you take care of me. There's a difference."

He puffs a bit of air through his nose and turns around. He carries you over to your bed and sets you down, tucking you in under the covers before moving away. Despite the tight feeling in your chest, you allow him to leave without protest.

Maybe you should've asked him to stay, then you wouldn't be here, staring at your clock as the sun hits your face, only a power nap's worth of sleep in your system.

You feel heavy. Your body is stressed and rigid, yet your mind is going a mile a minute. There's only a month until the assimilation and you haven't a clue where to start to fix it, not to mention every other dire event that's sure to happen in the next decade.

You groan, rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. You smack your hands on your face desperately trying to rid yourself of the exhaustion. It was going to be a long day.

- - - - -

Despite how the day started (or did yesterday even end?), today was rather nice. You have the day off to rest, giving you the opportunity to enjoy the nice weather. The incoming sunset is soft, painting the walls of the school a nice orange color and making the view a little more surreal.

The courtyard has always been one of your favorite places. You're lying underneath the giant tree, head in Geto's lap, and legs across Gojo. You're still tired and the boys are arguing, but neither are enough to ruin an otherwise perfect moment.

You wish Shoko were here right now, but even she's sent out to assist on missions from time to time. You know she'd be leaning over you, clicking away on her phone, scolding you for your 'unsightly public display of affection'.

"Picking a grass starter is stupid. They have the most weaknesses."

"Maybe if you learned to appreciate the game instead of only using attack moves, you'd realize grass has its advantages."

"Support moves are for chumps. Ain't that right, princess?"

"I don't know, Satoru, Treecko is pretty cute."

He scoffs and places his hand over his chest to feign heartbreak. You and Suguru laugh, bumping your fists together and poking fun at the other.

Satoru, in the height of his hissy fit, pinches your thigh. You jolt and pout at him. You reach up and steal his glasses away, putting them on and enjoying the break from the bits of sunlight that peek through the leaves.

"You tag team me and steal my shades? You owe me a future question."

"Ask away."

Honestly, he wasn't expecting you to agree to his absurd request. For the almost two years he's known you, he's begged and pleaded for you to share your dreams with him. It's all he asks for when the holidays come around and you always deny him.

He shares a look with Geto, who's looking back at him just as awestruck. You aren't looking at their faces, but you know there's a silent conversation happening between them, probably trying to figure out the best use of their only wish.

Satoru finally clears his throat and sits a little straighter. His suddenly mature demeanor piques your interest.

"What do I look like?"

Suddenly the interest is gone. Suguru punches his shoulder making him yelp. You pinch your eyebrows together, flick up the glasses, and stare straight into his eyes.

"You're a fucking idiot."

Despite the disappointment (or is it relief?) you feel, you give him what he wants. You sit up just enough to reach his face, placing your hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Suguru swears he can see residual twinkles left on his friend's skin at the contact.

"What was that?"

"I showed him my memories. It's an extension of my gift."

You lay back down and watch as Satoru's eyes light up. You were careful not to reveal anything about your relationship with him, choosing to show some friendlier, more subtle tidbits. Unfortunately, though, not much can get past Satoru on the rare occasion he actually applies himself.

"I'm wearing a wedding ring."

It's a statement, not a question, and you're positive that it was intentional on his part. You curse yourself under your breath and rack your brain for a way to get yourself out of this predicament.

"Yes."

"So I'm married? To who?"

"Too bad you wasted your question. Guess you'll have to wait and find out like the rest of us."

You can feel your pulse racing, the blood roaring in your ears as you're struck with the grief of your past.

You can't tell him the history behind that ring. There's no doubt in your mind that he knows who wears the other ring(s?)- it's obvious given the strange dynamic he shares with you and Suguru.

But it's not that simple and you can't find it in yourself to crush any shred of hope he has about living a normal life.

You can't tell him that you'd gotten married in a courthouse at nineteen years old so you could take shared guardianship of Megumi and Tsumiki. You can't tell him the rings you wore were damn near symbolic, something you kept on as a front for his clan and to keep some sort of normalcy for the little ones.

You can't tell him how nontraditional your relationship is. That you shared a bed more often than you slept alone, but there were no I-love-you's even if the feelings were there. That with Suguru gone, neither of you felt complete, even when it was Sunday night and you were sitting at a full table with your kids, laughing and joking like the weight wasn't there.

He doesn't need to know that he doesn't get the normal life he's most likely envisioning, because you're going to do your best to change it. He deserves to have a wife, not whatever mixing pot of sex and longing that held you two together through the thick.

You're thankful for Satoru's glasses that conceal the tears you're trying to blink away. Suguru sets his hand on your chest, right over your heart. His touch is warm and calming. He's always in tune with himself and extends that pleasure to you and the white-haired dork lost in thought beside you.

"Why don't we go inside and watch a movie? It's getting dark and it's supposed to rain soon."

Satoru is very melodramatic- always has been and always will be. You've grown accustomed to the odd way he chooses to deal with feelings- pretending they don't exist and smothering the situation with a bright smile and some sweets.

But Suguru? Suguru was never like that. He's an open book, willing to have difficult conversations at the drop of a hat. He balanced you and Satoru out nicely, encouraging the pair of you to at least attempt to cope with your troubles instead of bottling them up.

Which is why it's so easy to allow your walls to crumble in his hold after just a single touch. It's so easy to curl into him and allow him to mother you relentlessly. To fall back into the same routine you haven't known for years. To relish in the feeling of finally feeling whole again.

He offers you his hand and helps you to your feet. He gently brushes the grass off of your backside and you hear a smack. A quick glance behind you tells you it was Geto slapping away Satoru's opportunistic hand from copping a feel under your skirt.

You laugh and tug the boys closer to you, wrapping your arms around their waists and leading them inside. Your cheerful mood has returned and nothing is going to strip it away- not even the two losers swatting at each other behind your back.

Taglist: @wannapizzamymindposts @sadunicorns11 @reiluvr

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bluebeary-jay · 2 years ago

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Halcyon days

Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)

Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1

Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word count: ~3K

A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊

You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.

“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”

“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.

“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”

Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.

“Sure you can.”

Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.

“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”

“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”

“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”

You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.

“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”

“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.

“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”

You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.

For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.

But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.

“Why’re you staring?”

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.

“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”

He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.

“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”

“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.

Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”

Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.

“On my cheek, you say?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.

“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”

It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.

After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.

Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.

Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.

Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.

“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.

“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”

“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”

“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.

“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“Not until–”

He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.

“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”

He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.

“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.

“I could say the same about you.”

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.

The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.

You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”

“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”

“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”

“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”

He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”

“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”

“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”

He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.

*****

You didn’t plan on falling asleep.

Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…

But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.

“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”

Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”

You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”

She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.

“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.

“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”

She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.

“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”

“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”

You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.

“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”

He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.

“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.

His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.

“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”

Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”

“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”

“No.”

“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.

“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”

“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.

“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”

“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.

And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.

“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”

“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”

While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.

“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”

You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.

He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.

He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #because i cant write a fic without her in it #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #pedro pascal #beary writes

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writing-intheundercroft · 1 year ago

Text

The Perfect Gift - O. Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

Word Count: 4,129

Rating: T

Summary: Ominis overhears the girls talking about some singer, and decides to write MC a song for Christmas. Sebastian can't help but be his wingman.

A/N: @darch7995 sent me a song and I had to write something fluffy and happy for Ominis! Listen to the audio HERE. Merry Christmas!

Ominis Gaunt was rarely stopped in his tracks, but once he’d heard the low warbling coming from the gramophone, he halted, holding his hands to his ears. He hated the insinuation that his blindness enhanced his other senses, but he did have impeccable hearing, and the song emitting from the sun room next to the Charms classroom had his ears ringing.

“Isn’t he just so dreamy?” Poppy sighed.

“Clarence Warbeck is my favorite singer of all time.” Leonora Everleigh declared. “I would listen to him all day if I could.”

Ominis rolled his milky blue eyes, ready to walk into the warm, sunlit room to say something snarky, until he heard her voice.

“I think he’s quite the romantic,” she said. His dear friend had a lilt in her voice towards the end of her sentence, as if she hadn’t finished her thought.

“You mean easy on the eyes?” Leonora teased.

She let out a laugh that had Ominis shivering, stumbling behind the column to avoid them seeing him.

“I just think music is quite lovely.” she mused. “And a song? I think that’s the sweetest gift a person could ever give.”

Ominis bit his bottom lip as he blushed. That was valuable information, he thought, especially with the holidays approaching. The wheels started spinning in his mind as he imagined a song, especially one about her–

“Oh, hi Ominis!”

He blinked, turning towards the voice. His friend had seen him, and now he had nowhere to hide.

“Hello, ladies.” Ominis said smoothly.

“Come to take a nap in the light?” Poppy said kindly. He blushed again; clearly his napping habits were quite public knowledge at this point.

“Come over,” his friend beckoned him closer. “We can sit on the cushions, if you’d like.”

“If you insist,” he stuttered.

Ominis awkwardly scampered over to the sound of her voice, settling down on the various plush cushions that were set on the floor. He felt her sit down next to him, tucking her feet under herself as he splayed out on the floor. One of the many cats that lived in the DADA tower slid against the two of them, purring.

“Comfortable?” she asked softly, the sound of the music dulled by her voice.

“Very,” Ominis hummed. He settled onto the cushions, his head falling into her lap. She continued her conversation with the girls as he drifted into a light sleep, the crooning of Clarence Warbeck filling the background noise.

Ominis and Sebastian sat at the Slytherin table in the great hall; with the holidays quickly approaching, most students were busy packing their trunks for the journey home. The Hogwarts Express was departing Hogsmeade station for the holidays the next morning, but per usual, Ominis and Sebastian were spending the holiday at the castle. As Professor Ronen decorated the Christmas tree, the boys sat at the table, loitering before dinner.

“And honestly, I took that quite personally. So I don’t think I should have gotten a detention for setting Leander on fire, he was the one who was in my way…Ominis, are you paying any attention to me?” Sebastian asked, eyebrows quirked.

Ominis rolled his unseeing eyes, waving off his best friend. “Yes, yes, something about nearly giving Leander Prewett third degree burns because he looked at you funny in potions again.” he said lazily, waving his wand again. His eyebrows were furrowed as he waved his wand again. His dictation quill scratched out a few words on the parchment in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asked, narrowing his eyes at the many pages in front of his friend.

“Nothing,” Ominis said hastily, snatching his pages together before Sebastian could get his grubby hands on them.

“Why so secretive?” Sebastian asked, clearly intrigued by the change in Ominis’s attitude.

“It’s none of your business,” Ominis sniffed. “Back off.”

From the blond’s biting tone, Sebastian knew it was in his best interests not to press. However, his best interests were rarely ever actually on his mind. Lurching forward, Sebastian snatched a piece of parchment from Ominis’s hands, taking glee in how the blond panicked.

“Each year I ask for many different things–”

“Sebastian stop,” Ominis panted. “It’s not funny.”

“But now I know what my heart–”

“Sebastian!” Ominis screeched, nearly ripping the parchment from his best friend’s hands. “Stop it, I’m begging you.”

“What in Merlin’s name are you writing?” Sebastian laughed, watching as his normally impenetrable friend reddened, pushing the wrinkled parchment into his bookbag. “Is that a poem?”

Ominis’s face was bright red. “It’s a song, if you want to know so bad.” he scowled.

Sebastian’s face softened. “I didn’t know you were back at the old piano again.”

It wasn’t common knowledge that Ominis was an accomplished pianist. Mrs. Gaunt had insisted every child in the Gaunt family mastered an instrument, and he’d spent most of his childhood dreading piano lessons. Despite his initial disdain, Ominis had taken quite well to the instrument, and it became a hobby. Once he was at Hogwarts, he’d slip into the music room every now and then, practicing his rusty skills whenever he was under duress.

“It’s for a gift,” Ominis mumbled.

“Pardon?” Sebastian asked, now grinning. He had an idea of Ominis’s motivation, but wanted to hear the words from the boy himself.

“It is a Christmas gift,” Ominis hissed. “For her. Are you happy, Sebastian?”

“Blissful.” Sebastian leaned into the table, tucking his chin in hand. “This is rich–you’re writing a song for a girl.” he crooned. “How sweet, Omi. What gave you the idea?”

Ominis gave him a rude hand gesture, sparking laughter from the brunette. “I overheard her talking with Poppy and Leonora about that singer–Clarence Warbeck–and how they loved his songs.”

“Right, the prat who sings all those cheesy love songs the girls are obsessed with.” Sebastian noted. “Isn’t he doing a show in London over the holiday break?”

Ominis gave him a dry look. “Precisely. His lyrics are…uninspired, to say the least. And I was already thinking of what to give her for the holidays–you know she’s impossible to shop for. The girl has every piece of clothing known to mankind, every potion, book, broom at her disposal. I thought to myself, she deserves a song. You know, something actually personalized to her.” he said sheepishly.

“Well, I think it’s very kindhearted of you.” Sebastian said smugly. “Are you admitting it then?”

“Admitting what?” Ominis feigned indifference.

“Your crush on her.”

“Could you be any louder, Sebastian?” Ominis hissed. His hands flew to his temples as his best friend chortled next to him. “I just–”

“Just writing her a lovely, romantic song for the holidays.” Sebastian snorted. “Oh come on, I’m just teasing you. I think it’s great; you never play the piano, so it must mean something special.”

Ominis felt his face flush; despite his disdain for Sebastian in the moment, his best friend was right. Ominis had minimal experience with the fairer sex. The concept of romance was lost on the Gaunts, choosing to pair their children in arranged matches to bring honor to the bloodline. He’d never even imagined the idea of dating someone until she’d arrived at Hogwarts. Their friendship had gotten off to a rocky start, thanks to the freckled heathen sitting next to him, but the events of their fifth year had only drawn them closer to one another. What had started as an admiration for her bravery turned into a funny twist in his stomach whenever he heard her laughing. As of late, it had gotten so unbearable, Ominis had turned into a blushing mess whenever she sat next to him in class.

“Speak of the devil–she’s coming in.” Sebastian murmured. “Hide your sheets, then.”

Ominis heard her footsteps draw closer and closer as he hurriedly shoved his parchment back into his school bag.

“Hello you two,” she said sweetly, standing next to them. Ominis could smell her perfume wafting towards him, still smelling like the sweet scent of strawberries in the dead of winter. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” both boys said in unison.

Despite his blindness, Ominis could almost sense the arch of her brow. “Alright, weirdos.” she chuckled. “I have good and bad news.”

“Do tell,” Sebastian said.

“Good news, Leonora’s mother surprised us with tickets to Clarence Warbeck’s show in London!” she said gleefully. “I was going to stay in the castle for the holidays, but Leonora’s parents decided to surprise her early so she could bring friends, and she invited me to join!”

“O-oh.” Ominis said, feeling his heart crack in half. “So you’ll be gone, then?”

“Yes, well that’s the bad news, you see. I know it’s such late notice, but I hope the two of you won’t be cross with me,” she said wistfully. “It’s just such a good opportunity, and I’ve never been to a real show before–”

“Of course we’re not mad,” Ominis interjected. “If it makes you happy, we’ll be happy for you.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you understand,” she sighed in relief. “I am going to miss you over the holidays, I hope you know that.”

Ominis pursed his lips. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sebastian chuckled. “I’m positively bereft you’re leaving us.”

Despite his inner turmoil, Ominis knew she was excited for the opportunity to visit London. It was silly of him to write the song, he thought; he was no great wordsmith, nor half the performer that Clarence Warbeck was. He felt a pit of jealousy in his stomach as he pictured her singing and cheering for him in a crowd, waiting for his autograph at the side door to the theater–

He was broken out of his thoughts at the feeling of her kissing his cheek.

“Don’t miss me too much, Ominis.” she said kindly.

“I’ll be counting down the days until you’re back,” he said softly. Realizing just how lovesick he sounded, he quickly covered with a cough. “Can’t forgive you for leaving me with this one,” he elbowed Sebastian, who yelped in return.

She gave a sparkling laugh, which brought warmth to his cheeks once more. “I’ll try to see you before I leave tomorrow.” she promised, her voice getting further and further away as he heard her walk towards the door.

The boys were silent until they heard the door properly shut.

“Lots of talk, use of the word we,” Sebastian noted. “When you’re the one supposedly preparing a love song for her.”

“Shove off,” Ominis mumbled. “I knew it was a stupid idea.”

“Don’t say that,” Sebastian assured him. “You can give it to her when she’s back.”

Ominis knew he was right, but he was rather hoping to give her his song over the holidays. He’d already spent so much time planning his confession, and her leaving for the holiday was a major setback. Ominis wasn’t sure he could muster up the confidence to play his music for her again, let alone with a castle full of other students who might walk in on them.

“Whatever,” Ominis sighed.

It had been a few days since the train had departed for London, taking her to London and far, far away from Hogwarts for the holidays. Ominis had since retreated to the music room nearly every night, wishing to be alone. It was late, and Ominis was seated at the piano again. His long, lithe fingers softly danced across the keys, playing the tune he’d written for her song. Under his breath, he mumbled the lyrics; deep down, he didn’t really want to be alone, but she had been the only company he’d desired. He imagined her, standing at the Clarence Warbeck show, swaying to the lame lyrics with her girlfriends, and it made his piano strokes a bit heavier and angrier than he’d wanted them to be.

He was so lost in thought, he hardly noticed the sound of skittering feet approaching the music room. It wasn’t until the door burst open that he stumbled over the keys, lifting his wand to identify the intruder.

“Sebastian? What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Ominis barked.

“She’s–Ominis, they–show got canceled–she’s here,” Sebastian rambled, panting for air.

“What are you even talking about?”

Sebastian took a big gulp of air. “The Clarence Warbeck show got canceled,” he breathed. “She caught the train back to Hogsmeade instead.”

Ominis blinked at his best friend. “She’s here?” he said, voice strained.

“Do you have your song written?” Sebastian demanded.

“Er, yes–I was just finishing the melody.” Ominis admitted.

“That settles it–you have a song to deliver then, Ominis.” Sebastian said proudly. “I can grab her, if you like–”

“Are you insane?” Ominis gaped. “It’s not–I’m not ready!” he panicked.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “There’s a piano, you have your lyrics, what aren’t you ready for?” he asked.

Ominis began wringing his hands. “But it has to be romantic,” he wheezed. “And this isn’t romantic at all. For Merlin’s sake, I’m wearing pajamas!”

Sebastian was quiet for a few moments; Ominis could tell the cogs were moving in his best friend’s head. The brunette snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it!” he said gleefully. “The perfect idea.” He could hear Sebastian’s boots scuffling around him, muttering under his breath.

“What are you doing?” Ominis asked curiously.

“Candles.” Sebastian said simply, muttering a conjuration charm. “You’ll need a lot of candles, girls love them.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know that,” Ominis scowled, standing up and raising his wand. He could sense Sebastian conjuring dozens candles, setting them around the piano.

“And you–you should change into something a little nicer.” Sebastian tutted. “Not that your pajamas aren’t cute and all, but you’ll want to look your best.”

“I know that,” Ominis rolled his eyes. However, he couldn’t contain the flutter of excitement in his stomach. “Are you suggesting I change now?”

“Run down to the dungeons, I’ll take care of the room.” Sebastian assured him. “Ambiance, by Sebastian Sallow.” he joked.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Ominis said earnestly.

“Get fewer girls, that’s for sure.” The brunette snorted.

“Don’t start.” Ominis warned him, backing up towards the door.

“Is that any way to treat your personal elf?” He didn’t need sight to know there was a smug grin stretched across Sebastian’s face. “Go on, get prettied up. I’ll be here, getting everything prepared.”

“I know you can’t see yourself, but you look quite dashing.” Sebastian hummed. He adjusted Ominis’s tie, the blonde slapping his hands away in return. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Ominis lied. “What’s to be nervous about?”

“I dunno–the fact that it’s nearly midnight and you’re about to host your first solo concert to the girl you’re in love with.” Sebastian hummed. “I know I had some mistletoe around here somewhere…”

“Hello?” A feminine voice called out. “Is anyone there?”

Ominis slapped Sebastian’s arm. “She’s here!” He hissed. “Get out!”

Sebastian yelped in response; Ominis straightened his waistcoat as he heard his best friend stumble across the music room, his boots clacking against the stairs.

“Ominis, are you in there?” Her voice sounded nearer, about to turn the corner into the room.

He gulped, twirling his wand rather anxiously at his side. “I am,” he choked out. “Do come in.”

He could hear her delicate footsteps as she walked into the music room; first quickly, and then stopping in her tracks. It felt like eons before her feet picked up again, taking slow deliberate steps towards him in the corner, next to the piano.

“Sebastian sent me an owl, saying it was rather time-sensitive.” she said hesitantly. “That it was an emergency.”

“That twat,” Ominis grumbled. “It’s not an emergency, per say, but I did want you to meet me here.”

“So no one is dying, gravely wounded, or in need of protection?”

“Did he say that was the issue?” Ominis choked.

She snorted. “Rather implied it was a life or death matter.”

Ominis scolded Sebastian in his head, rolling his eyes. He’d have to set him straight later on.

“I wanted to ask you to come meet me here,” Ominis chewed on his lower lip. “Because I knew you were quite disappointed when the Clarence Warbeck show was canceled.”

“Oh, right.” she said quickly. “Yeah, Leonora was a bit upset over it, and I didn’t really have any other reason to be in London, so I caught the train home.”

“Well, with that being the case, I thought this was a good time to give you your Christmas present.” Ominis swallowed thickly.

“Omi, I thought we weren’t doing presents,” she said, her voice slightly panicked. “I haven’t gotten you anything–”

“This,” Ominis interjected, pointing his wand towards the piano. “This is the present.”

She paused, clearly confused. “The piano? The one that’s always here in the music room? I mean, thanks Ominis, but I doubt we can steal the school piano–”

“No,” Ominis groaned. He tugged her hand towards the bench, gesturing for her to sit next to him. “This is the present. Me–er, rather, a song for you.”

There was a pregnant pause as she slowly slid into the bench next to him. Her shoulder bumped into his, and he could feel the ends of her braid tickling his skin. They’d never sat so closely before–not under the pretense of anything other than a friendly afternoon nap in the corridor.

“You wrote a song for me?” she asked, her voice suddenly small and subdued. “Ominis, I didn’t even know that you could play the piano.”

Ominis set his wand down on the piano’s ledge with shaky hands. “I did–I do play the piano. I learned when I was younger,” he admitted, his fingers finding the ivory keys. “I’m actually quite good, if I do say so myself. Sebastian tells me I am too.”

“You’ve played for Sebastian, but not me?” she scoffed, a playful tone returning to her voice.

Ominis began playing the tune he’d written, the one he’d memorized in a matter of days just for her. “I only share this with people I love,” he said softly. Realizing what he’d just said, he coughed quickly to cover his blunder. “Like my friends. Anne, Sebastian, and now you.”

She rested her chin on Ominis’s shoulder. “Well, go on then. Let me hear it.”

“And you won’t make fun of me if I’m a lousy singer?” Ominis asked, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“I would never,” she reassured him.

Ominis began singing; he could hear her breath catch as his voice echoed in the room. The words tumbled out of his mouth as his fingers danced across the keys. Despite not having his wand in hand, he started to feel more confident as his tune went on, his voice only cracking slightly when he felt her soft hand on his leg.

So just please fall in love with me, this Christmas

There’s nothing else that I would need, this Christmas

Won’t be wrapped under a tree, I wish that this would last forever,

So kiss me on this cold December night;

They call it the season of giving; I’m here, yours for the taking

I’m here, I’m yours

The notes trailed off, Ominis’s fingers lifting from the keys. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands; in his nervousness, he clenched his fists in his lap.

“I tried to copy Warbeck’s style,” he gulped. “Since you like him so much. I overheard you talking with the girls last week, that you thought a song was the sweetest gift a person could give.”

“You listened to me,” she murmured.

Ominis squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to articulate his feelings. “I…I’m always listening to you. I want to make you happy.” he wrung his hands together.

“Ominis, this is…the song…” she trailed off.

“Do you hate it?” he asked nervously.

She threw her arms around him; he yelped as she squeezed him tight.

“How could one hate a song so beautiful? This is my favorite Christmas gift I’ve ever received, the most perfect gift.” she gasped. “No one has ever written me a song before.”

Ominis sighed in relief, blushing as he found the courage to wrap his arms around her waist, hugging her in return. “I’m glad you liked it.” he murmured into her shoulder.

She pulled away, pressing her small, warm hands against his cheeks. “Liked it? Ominis, I loved it!” she exclaimed. “I never knew you had such talent. You need to play more often for me.”

Ominis smiled as he pressed her forehead against hers. “Well, now that you know, I’d be happy to play for you whenever you’d like.”

Her warm hands left his cheeks, falling to hold his hands. There was a brief pause; he could tell she was chewing on her lower lip.

“The lyrics,” she murmured. “You…you mean them, right? They’re not just lyrics?”

Ominis took in a sharp breath as her fingers entwined with his. “Well, Mr. Warbeck is quite forward with his feelings in all of his songs, so I thought I should do the same.” he whispered. “I wanted it to be romantic, and all I could think of wanting this Christmas was you.” he confessed.

“I thought so,” she mused. “So you would like me to kiss you?”

Ominis blinked rapidly, his cheeks burning hot. “Only if–” he started to say, quickly cut off by her lips pressing against his.

She smiled against his lips, and Ominis melted into her touch. His hands cradled her face while she held onto his forearms, keeping him close. He whined softly as she pulled away, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Only what?” she asked.

“If you mean it, truly.” Ominis fought the smile that tugged on the corner of his lips. “I hope you do. Or I guess in this case, did.”

She laughed; the melodic sound of her giggles rivaled even the sweetest of songs. Her chin dropped to his shoulder again, and she nuzzled closer.

“You didn’t need to write a song to capture my heart, Ominis.” she breathed. “It’s been yours for a while now.”

Ominis went slack jawed. “What?”

“Why do you think I caught the first train back to Hogwarts?” she nudged him with her nose. “I wanted to be back here, to spend Christmas with you, Ominis.”

“But the show–Clarence Warbeck–”

“He’s a good singer,” she laughed. “But he’s not you.”

Ominis surged forward, and she yelped when he pressed his lips against her face, slightly missing her lips. No matter; she chuckled again, angling her face to meet him perfectly. One of Ominis’s hands tugged her closer at the waist, the other trailing up to her soft, strawberry scented hair.

“I love you,” he admitted, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

Just as she was about to open her mouth in response, the two heard a cough from the rafters. They jolted apart, Ominis nearly falling off the bench to maintain a proper distance from her in case it was a professor.

It wasn’t–he could hear a familiar voice huffing at them.

“Can I come down now?”

Ominis furrowed his eyebrows. “Sebastian, what the bloody hell are you still doing here?” he gasped.

“Well you didn’t give me much time to get down from the rafters,” Sebastian complained. “I was trying to hang the mistletoe for you two.”

“Get out!” Ominis groaned, while she laughed next to him on the piano bench.

Ominis could hear Sebastian’s snickering, and the familiar beat of his steps as he ran out of the music room. He groaned, his head falling against her shoulder.

“So embarrassing.” he muttered into the fabric of her shirt. “I can’t believe he heard the song.”

“Not at all,” she cooed. “Wouldn’t quite be a moment between us without Sebastian interrupting, would it?” she pressed a soft kiss against his hair. “Play the song for me again?”

“Only if I get to kiss you more.” Ominis whispered.

“That can be arranged,” she said coyly, tilting his chin up towards her. She adoringly pressed kisses against his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then finally his lips again. Pulling away, she leaned her head on his shoulder once more, sighing happily as his fingers started dancing across the keys again.

“Happy Christmas, Ominis. I love you too.”

Those four words were music to Ominis’s ears. He played the song for her over and over again, his voice more confident every time he repeated the lyrics. The fourth time he repeated, she stopped him, kissing him breathless.

“Saw the mistletoe,” she whispered against his lips, slithering her arms around his waist. “He managed to hang it after all.”

Grinning into her kiss once more, Ominis reminded himself to thank Sebastian.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fan fiction #pianist ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x oc #had to do a happy ominis piece somehow

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s0urw00lf · 22 days ago

Text

Bound

“Lion” and the wolf

Jon snow x reader

Summary: you meet Jon snow and immediately take a liking to him

A/N: may be a series may not be i don’t know yet. I hope it is because I’m hyperfixated on game of thrones right now and there’s only 10 episodes per season. Also is it just me who finds season 1 Jon just adorable?

Divider from @thecutestgrotto

When your father informed you that the king, the queen, and their close relatives including you were to accompany him to winterfell to name lord Stark as his new hand after Jon Arryns passing your first initial reaction was shock, they’d never really considered you a part of their family. Cersei was all about blood relation unless married into the family and you were neither. Therefore casting you to the furthest end of the Lannister/Baratheon family tree. The only ones that really accepted you was your father, Jamie and tommen. Joffrey was way too cruel for his own good, there was no doubt in your mind that it is going to be the reason he ends up dead.

”Must I go father, you and I both know me and Cersei around one another for any extended amount of time is not good for anyone within mere miles of us.” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in your room as your handmaiden braided your hair.

”Yes you must, the king has ordered it” he replied in his usual nonchalant tone. You rolled your eyes “when are we to set off?” You asked.

“By sunrise” he replied “I’ll leave you to sleep you’re going to need it”

your father exited your chambers and soon your handmaiden helped you get settled into your nightwear.

Sleep had not come easy to you. The thought of being in a compressed space with Cersei and Joffrey you’d go as far as to say it gave you nightmares. You are a well behaved lady, you know when and when not to speak and how to butter anyone up. But when it came to the queen and her eldest son you always managed to be sent off with the threat of your head on a spike.

Most of the ride to winterfell was spent bickering with Joeffry, somehow the young prince hadn’t learned how to respect anyone outside of himself, it got so bad that you’d ended up calling him an arrogant bastard which resulted in a slap from Cersei and you riding in the back with your uncle Jamie. Only when you were outside of the walls built around winterfell did you place yourself inside the carriage so you could present yourself as the “perfect family”.

You were introduced to the Stark family after your cousins, you’d heard stories of the bastard boy of Eddard Stark who looked more like a Stark than the eldest Stark boy. He was attractive, Robb. Any woman with eyes could see that, his striking blue eyes stood out against his dark curly hair and pale face. But as you searched more carefully you couldn’t find the other eldest boy. Next to Robb stood Lady Sansa who you knew was the eldest girl but there was one missing between them.

You tapped your uncles shoulder discreetly, he hummed without taking his eyes from in front of him. “There’s a boy missing, the second eldest. Why is he not in lineup with his family?” You questioned silently, watching the king and his old friend reunite, knowing their loud voices would drown out you and your fathers whispers. “Lady Catelyn is not fond of the bastard boy, he's seen as a burden to her. Look beyond the lineup” he answered just as quietly. You frowned at that, you knew what it was like not to be wanted by your family. Blood or not, but your father always made sure you were known as his daughter proudly. He wouldn’t ever dare to hide you no matter how high or low born your guests were. How can you hate a child before he even does anything to deserve your hate?

You took your uncles advice looking beyond the line up, and that’s when you saw him, what they say about him is right, he does look more of a Stark than Robb. He was handsome both brothers were but Jon carried himself differently. Like he was waiting to be seen, accepted. His dark eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, he looked to be observing you much like you were doing him. Your long held eye contact must’ve been caught by your uncle who light nudged you. “Careful little lioness” he warned. With that you broke your eye contact with him to look at your uncle. You weren’t sure what he meant but you knew it’d resurface later on.

Cersei greeted the lord and lady after the king, though it wasn’t as warm as his, Cersei had a way of making every moment more tense than it had to be. “Where’s the imp?” The youngest Stark girl said catching you and Cersei’s attention, she turned around and walked toward you and your uncle “where is our brother, go find the little monster” she said to your uncle. You suppressed an eye roll, though your father was your father he still felt to revel in his younger years, though you weren’t sure how he was able to slip passed everyone and escape to whatever it was he was doing.

Later that evening at the feast you were sat alone, much like always unless your father was near. You made effort to search for Jon, and was quickly dissatisfied when he was nowhere in your sights. A loud shriek broke you from your thoughts “Arya! It’s not funny she always does this” you looked over and almost snorted when you saw lady Sansa with food on her face. Your best guess was Arya decided to use her face as target practice.

You weren’t blind to the looks she and your cousin had been sending each other and you guessed the little Stark was feeling mischievous. You caught sight of the oldest Stark boy cutting his laugh short due to the look his mother gave him, he got up walking over to Arya picking her up from her seat and muttering “time for bed” he met eyes with you and sent you a friendly smile, you returned his smile with nod in acknowledgement.

Farther into the night you found yourself wandering around the castle before dinner and ended up on the training grounds. A low grunt caught your attention, you were sure everyone was readying themselves for dinner who would be at the training grounds this late. It was a boy. “So its you” you spoke, catching his attention, he paused his actions turning towards you with a confused expression before he straightened himself up, “My lady are you lost, i can esc-“ you shook your head “i am not lost lord snow-“ ”excuse me My lady, i am not a lord” he put his head down.

You tilted your head at him “you are more of a lord than i am a lady” you told him truthfully. He stared at you in silence, you looked around not noting anyone else “you are alone?” You questioned. He nodded “yes My lady.” He answered. “Would you mind accompanying me, My Lord?” You tilted your head at him giving him the slightest doe eyes. He hadn’t given you a reaction you expected but you did see the blush littering his cheeks. “Of course My lady, where are you off to?”

”I'm just out for a night stroll, it's good I found you, from what I’ve heard you're handy with a sword so I needn’t be on high guard anymore” you told him as you resumed walking. He followed right next to you “do you not have a guard” he questioned looking around to see if there were any men far behind “much to the dismay of my father, no. I can take care of myself but I don't always like to.” You said moving your goat to the side to show the sword you have stashed.

He looked intrigued by it. “It was my grandfathers i think, my father gave it to me. He said it was the last he could find of my real family.” You frowned. “You're from a high born family, that sword is made of valyrian steel” he said pointing to your sword that was back safely hidden behind your coat. “I am not sure, father won't tell me where he found it, he says he’ll tell me when i'm ready. Anyway enough of me, what about you” you asked looking up at him. “What of me?” He asked. “Do you know your mother?”.

He shook his head “even if i did im not so sure it’d change anything” he said frowning, you hated the crease between his brows. His face showed years of neglect and hatred he endeared from lady Stark and you couldn’t help but to begin to hate her for him. Suddenly you felt no need to continue talking of family, you noticed he didn’t have his furs from earlier that day on anymore. “Are you cold My Lord?” You asked gently. It was as if he had just realized he didn’t have his furs as he looked down at his attire. “We can go to my chambers and warm you, its not very far from here.” You told him.

Jon blushed at the thought “no i shouldn’t it wouldn’t be appropriate, but if you would like me to escort you-” you giggled cutting his sentence short “very noble Lord snow, yes please escort me to my chambers” you smiled, Jon nodded placing a hand on your lower back leading you further into the castle. The short walk was filled with quiet and easy conversation.

You were almost disappointed when you reached your chambers and your conversation was cut short. “Would you like to come in?” You asked, Jon paused wanting to say yes but not wanting to upset lady Caitlyn if she ever found out. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing i sent you off while your nearly freezing” you tried to persuade him. he shook his head “it would not be appropriate“ “Jon please” you begged “just a few minutes”.

Jon sighed praying to the gods hoping no one saw what he was about to do. He entered your chambers and let out a breath at the warmth. The atmosphere in the room was quiet and gentle. You removed your furs having no further need for them at the moment and placed yourself on your bed. “May i ask a question?” You asked him softly. He broke his stare from the fire and turned to you with a gentle ‘hmm’ “If you feel you do not belong here, then where do you belong?”

Jon felt weird, having never been asked that question before he felt taken aback. He lulled over his answer for a few seconds “at the wall, with my uncle and others like me” he looked down to his clasped hands, seemingly deep in thought. Your heart broke for the boy, he truly felt in some way he wasn’t welcome in his own home. “Are you ready to make that sacrifice? To never have a wife, a family. To pledge your life?” You asked.

He frowned further “No woman will wed to a bastard. My life will have more meaning there than here” He said. You tilted your head “i don't think that to be true, i think some time sooner or later your family will need you here, and if Amy woman is daft enough not to accept a marriage proposal from you then she didn't deserve you in the first place.

After that Jon excused himself from your chambers, your words weighing heavy on his shoulders. But his mind was already set, he was joining the night's watch, however that didn’t stop him from repeating your words in his head.

The next morning was when you were finally able to find your father, extremely hungover. “I Missed you yesterday” you said as you came to a halt by his side. “You missed aunt Cersei's fake smiles, uncle Jamie sizing up with lord stark and even worse. Joffrey making eyes with the stark girl.” You rolled your eyes at the last bit. Your father cleared his throat “did i also miss your night stroll with the bastard boy?” He asked.

You froze momentarily, you knew your father wasn’t in a hurry to wed you off, he’d much rather you find love than be in a loveless situation with a man two times your age. But that never stopped him from teasing you about your interests even if its very rare that you have them. “He was just accompanying me to my chambers, father” you spoke looking in every direction but his. He was the only person in the world who could read you like a book. “Ah yes, was he also warming your bed for you?” He turned toward you with a small smile. “You know i would never, i just met the boy”

“love is a fast little creature daughter” he said before walking away.

#s0urw00lf #got jon snow #got #game of thrones jon #jon snow x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader smut #game of thrones #robb stark #Tyrion Lannister x daughter!reader #lord snow

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pugh-bug · 5 months ago

Note

A summerhouse au!, where both art and readers family's rent or own the same house (or diff- cause honestly they can) and get together every year just for them to bond over (that's the only time they physically see each other)

Imagine unlimited piggybacks wherever and whenever you want- even to the shortest of distance

Honestly just melts my heart thinking about it🫠😍

-🍃

Peachy Promises

Art Donaldson x reader

I’m sorry this is later than I wanted but I loved your request and may have got carried away with it! I hope you enjoy this summerhouse fic 🌻🫶🏻

——————————————————————

Gentle tapping of leaves against the car window woke you from your nap. Your Mum was driving the poor car a little too close to the bushes that lined the twisted paths to the Summerhouse. It had been a family tradition since you were thirteen - or twelve you couldn’t remember - to go there every July and stay for a month.

‘Excited to see Art again honey?’

The Donaldson’s officially owned the property and had for generations and their son, Art, had been your favourite aspect of Summer for years. You only saw him once a year.

‘Yeah,’ you mumbled, face cramped in-between your flat pillow and the car window. The gentle thunk of hedgerow branches hitting the car would have sent you back to sleep if you weren’t so elated to see Art again. When the two of you first met all those years before he’d mistaken you for his friend Alice and asked for you.

‘Alice? Come here, I need to show you this!’

You looked at the short, freckled blonde before you and took in his confused expression with curiosity and glee.

‘You’re not Alice…’ you were indeed not Alice but you did intrigue the boy. His parents were strict about girls - too strict. The gender had become almost entirely fantastical to him, except for Alice who was more like a sister or an annoying cousin than anything else.

‘Go on. Show me what you wanted to show her.’

The boy lead you to the gardens beyond the Summerhouse your parents were so diligently unpacking in. It was beautiful, full of sunflowers and violets but the most incredible sight was the marble statue that depicted two kissing mermaids. It was no shorter than 8 feet tall and towered over the two of you, with you being almost a foot shorter than the strange boy.

‘So pretty…’ you sighed, taking in the sight whilst the boy took in you. After a moment he outstretched his hand ‘Hey, I’m Art.’

The car incessantly moaned for more fuel until you reached the car park and stopped. No one announced ‘We’re here’ because the three of you all knew. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and reached for your beaten up suitcase, the same one you’d used all of those years ago, and looked for Art. Just like the last year and the year before that and the year before that, Art was waiting impatiently by the peach tree. It never stopped growing, in fact it had grown so unruly and proud that it obstructed the Summerhouse mailbox entirely. The fresh scent was worth it.

‘Y/N!’ Art grinned as you left the car, dropping your case as you ran towards each other. Your parents knew the drill. It was the same every Summer. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’ He mumbled into your shoulder, as your parents retreated to their wing of the house. You inhaled Art’s shampoo as his soft curls tickled your cheek, he always smelt of pure Summer in a bottle. It was a hot day.

‘I’ve missed you too!’ Before you could get your case Art was grabbing you, pulling you onto his back. ‘Come on, I’ll carry you.’ Piggybacks were also apart of the yearly drill. You’d both expected him to stop years ago but he never did, Art revelled in carrying you around. It made him feel childish and gleeful, like the two of you had been at 12 - like he hoped the two of you could still be around each other.

Art carried you to your room, which had in the last three years been changed to the one next to his own, and set you down by the bed. The waft of air-con cooled your warm skin. ‘You gonna unpack?’ He gestured to your bulging suitcase but you shook your head. ‘Nah, can we do something fun? I’ve had the shittiest week.’

The Summerhouse visits had began to bring you and your parents closer but ironically, and this was entirely the blondes fault, you never spent less time together than those months. July had become a time for your parents to ‘focus on their marriage’ (whatever that means) and for you to see your best friend.

‘Wanna go swimming?’

Your eyes brightened at the suggestion, you loved swimming more than anything and the heat was palpable. ‘Your parents fixed the pool?’ Art simply nodded, while you frantically looked for the bathing suit you hoped you’d packed. You had. Forever the gentleman, Art left you alone to get dressed but the second you were back he was piggybacking you to the pool outside.

‘Cannon ball or graceful dive?’ You asked, doing your best Olympic swimmer stance. Art tried not to stare too hard at you in your red swimsuit, tried not to think too hard about how much older the two of you were but what his parents had said about your friendship being ‘too important to ruin’. He replied ‘Graceful dive.’

As the cool water enveloped your streamline body, you smiled. The oppressive heat couldn’t reach your sanctuary in the Donaldson pool, god it felt good to be back. Art jumped in after you, taking off his shirt before performing his own graceful dive. ‘Few years ago you’d have said cannon ball.’ You squeezed the excess water out of your nose to punctuate your sentence, feeling the water in your hair drip down your neck. ‘You’ve grown up.’ Art watched the droplets - fascinated for a moment before he frowned at your beaming face. He didn’t want to grow up. Art looked around, taking in the idyllic views: the freshly mowed grass, poppies and ivy coated red brick. ‘My parents are selling this place.’

Your smile dropped.

‘You’re not serious? Why?’

‘I’m going Stanford in September. They only kept this place for me.’

‘You weren’t gonna come back for Summer?’

‘Will you?’

That stung but he was right, in fact you’d been considering going as far as Boston University. Suddenly the water didn’t feel refreshing and the sky didn’t appear so blue.

‘You’ll come back right?’ Art asked, watching you shove your bags into your parents car. ‘Of course,’ You grinned. ‘My parents love it here- I love it here. Might even become a regular thing.’

The boy lit up at that, pulling you into a tight hug. He was the first boy to properly hug you. ‘I’ll be here.’ Was all he said.

‘I’m proud of you Art,’ you smiled weakly, brushing his wet hair off of his forehead as the two of you bobbed in the water. He looked his age, Art had never looked his age. ‘Stanford. It’ll be amazing.’ You meant it, he’d always been an excellent tennis player. He’d thrashed you in too many matches to count, you thought your defeats were some of his favourite moments. Tennis had always been his biggest love. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d be somebody one day, somebody worth telling your friends you knew. ‘I know Art Donaldson.’ Well…you knew Art Donaldson.

He didn’t fail to notice the defeat in your eyes, although your belief in him had always given him hope so your words were everything. Your fingers hesitated to leave his soft skin. ‘Y/N,’ you traced his features with your eyes. Remembering. ‘I need to tell you something and I - I think you might already know.’

‘I know.’

Blush coated his cheeks as Art waited with an intense stare for your next move. He didn’t know what would hurt him more, to have you for a Summer and never again or to have never had you at all.

Before he could speak your hands were cradling his face and pulling his lips to yours. He tasted like peaches. Neither of you said a word as Art’s hands ran down your waist, trying to get closer to you through the drenched swimsuit while he hummed into your kiss. You couldn’t quite explain it but you felt the mermaid statue was watching over the two of you, it too knowing that you’d always miss the boy who gifted you those Summers.

Masterlist

#challengers art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fanfiction #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x you #art donaldson fic #art Donaldson #art Donaldson x reader #art Donaldson x reader fluff #pughbug #challengers #challengers fandom #challengers summer #challengers fic

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thegettingbyp2 · 11 months ago

Note

aaa ive never sent a request so idk if i'm doing this right but!!

can i request a billy the kid x a female character who has a terminal illness? like him comforting her after she almost dies due to her condition and it's cute and fluffy

I'm Not Going Anywhere

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You were laying on your bed, your face pale and blood speckled in the corner of your lips. You’d been suffering from consumption for the past couple of months and every day that went by, the weaker you felt. But something that made you feel even worse was watching your boyfriend stick by your side, knowing that this was hurting him too. Billy had lost his mother and younger brother to consumption a few years ago and it was killing you to put him through this again.

You were recovering from a particularly bad week or so and Billy hadn’t left your side once. He was sitting next to your bed, one of your small, cold hands wrapped in both of his big, warm hands, lifting your hands to his lips every couple of minutes or so. He even kept a damp cloth nearby in case you got hot or so he could gently wipe the blood from your lips.

‘I’m sorry,’ you practically whispered, not strong enough to speak any louder.

‘What are you sorry for?’ he asked gently, furrowing his brows slightly as he pressed his lips to your hand again.

‘Putting you through this, I would understand if you wanted to leav - ’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he replied, cutting you off, moving to the edge of his seat to be closer to you, using one of his hands to cup your cheek and stroke your cheek with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. ‘I love you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.’ You smiled at him softly as your eyes filled with tears that you refused to let roll down your cheeks as a shiver wracked your body. ‘You cold?’ Billy asked as he reached to grab another blanket for you.

‘Will you come and lay with me?’ you asked quietly.

‘You don’t need to ask,’ he said, instantly moving to lay down on the bed with you, being careful not to jostle you too much as he pulled you into his arms. You felt your body instantly relax just by being in his arms and his body heat felt amazing against your now-freezing cold body. Burying your face against him, you pressed a gentle kiss to the base of his throat, breathing in the scent that was just Billy.

‘Tell me about what we’re going to do when I get better again?’ you asked. You both knew that there was no getting better for you but you loved the way Billy would talk, how animated he’d get when he’d tell you about all the places he’d take you; it was a way for the two of you to forget about what was happening for a while.

‘Course, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head before pulling you against him tighter. ‘So, the second you’re better, I’m going to take you out on my horse and we’re going to go for a ride far away from here. We’ll go somewhere where it’s just grass and trees and we’ll spend the day just the two of us, the fresh air, no one around to bother us. And then we’ll get you a horse and I’ll teach you to ride and we can go out whenever you want, how does that sound?’

‘I can’t wait,’ you said, your voice muffled by his shirt as your tears began to track down your cheeks.

‘Me neither, how you feeling?’ Billy asked, lifting your head up to meet his gaze, his thumb wiping away your tears.

‘Tired,’ you replied with a sad chuckle as the sound of Billy’s voice paired with the feeling of his arms wrapped around you and his chest rising and falling underneath your cheek had your eyes fluttering closed.

‘Then go to sleep, love, I’ll still be here when you wake back up,’ he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, keeping his lips against your skin as you let yourself fall asleep, feeling safe in his arms.

When he realised you’d gone to sleep, Billy let a couple of his own tears fall, hating that you were the one suffering and not him; sending a silent prayer out that you’d wake up again.

#billy the kid #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney imagine #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader

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fairidvst · 5 months ago

Note

I just saw your post about requests…perhaps an Andrew x Reader, where he is very obviously infatuated with the reader and the disciples (especially Simon and John [the baptizer]) tease him a bit?

yesyes this is so cute,, i didnt really know how to include john the baptizer so i didnt sorry 😥

andrew x reader ·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Andrew had been sent with the task of collecting more fire wood. He had been gone an hour and only found two suitable pieces. That's probably because every so often he would look up to the sound of your laughter and completely forget what he was doing.

You had been sitting with Ramah by the slowly dwindling fire. Andrew so badly wanted to know what was making you laugh that much. Sighing, he went to pick up another piece but ended up looking right back at you as you started shushing Ramah with wide eyes. You then look toward Andrew.

He turned bright red, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He hoped you couldn't tell. You waved at him with a small smile before turning back to your conversation. His heart tugged.

"You should tell her. Although I'm pretty sure she knows by now," Simon teased.

Andrew looked up. When did his brother get here?

"I don't know what you're talking about," Andrew huffed, and turned to look for more wood.

"Uh huh, 'course you don't."

It was quiet between the two for a few moments before Simon spoke again. He made his voice awfully high.

"Y/n is so pretty. I want to marry Y/n. Have you seen Y/n-"

"What are you doing?! She's right there! She's gonna hear you! Why are you making your voice like that?" Andrew asked with wide eyes, pushing his brother.

"I'm your inner voice," Simon said, crossing his arms. "That's what you sound like."

"I do not!" Funnily enough, when Andrew got upset or embarrassed, his voice did get increasingly higher.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀·˚ ༘

The next day, Andrew woke up early. Far earlier than he would've liked; but because he couldn't fall back asleep, he went to take a walk. When he left his tent, he saw you just a few feet away.

"Shalom Andrew. Did you sleep well?"

You were sitting by a tree sorting through a basket of different fruits.

"Shalom Y/n. I slept fine," Andrew cringed at how awkward he sounded. He wished he were more outgoing, like Thomas was with Ramah.

"Would you like to sit with me?" You asked, patting the spot next to you. Andrew nodded and you noticed his cheeks go pink. Nobody spoke for a few moments. For you, it was a comforting silence. For Andrew, it was the exact opposite. He was screaming at himself in his head, trying to find something to say.

Finally, Andrew opened his mouth but was cut short when Nathaniel emerged from his tent. He rose his eyebrows at Andrew, a grin on his face.

"Well don't you two look cozy."

Andrew shot a glare at him.

"Good morning Nathaniel," you chirped. "Care to join us?"

"I would love to Y/n, but I'm afraid Andrew wouldn't like that." Before either one of you could say anything, Nathaniel laughed and walked off.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀·˚ ༘

One by one, the rest of the group awoke and joined the two of you. Andrew didn't know if he was relieved by this or not.

"Is there something wrong with Y/n?" Matthew came up to Andrew, who had strayed a little ways from everyone.

"What? No?"

"Oh," Matthew furrowed his brows, deep in thought. "You stare at her a lot. I thought something might've been wrong."

"Oh- no, I-" Thank you Matthew, for being so good at picking up on social cues, Andrew thought helplessly, not knowing what to say.

Andrew heard two people laughing from behind him: the Sons of Thunder.

"Y/n doesn't have a problem, Matthew. But Andrew does."

"Yeah, it's being scared of girls," John added onto his brother.

Poor Matthew looked even more confused. "Really?"

"No, Matthew. I am not scared of girls," he glared at the brothers.

"You're right, you're just scared of Y/n."

"What about me?" You walked towards the group.

Andrew groaned internally. Great. "Nothing Y/n, James and John are just being annoying."

"What else is new?" You grinned at him.

"Hey!" The two said in unison. John then whispered something into Andrew's ear, which made him go very red, before dragging away Matthew and James.

"Simon told me you had something very important to tell me."

"Of course he did," Andrew muttered to himself.

"Soooo..?" You said after Andrew didn't continue.

"Um, well I wanted to tell you-..." He scratched the back of his head. How is he supposed to just outright say that he's completely infatuated with you?

"Oh, I know."

"What?"

"That you like me? I know that," you grinned at him. It was painfully obvious.

Andrew opened his mouth then closed it right back up, so you took it as a sign to continue. "You're very readable. You stare at me. A lot. You turn red whenever I talk to you. You avoid eye contact. It was easy to put two and two together."

"Also John told me," you added.

You don't think you've ever seen Andrew so flushed.

When he registered what you had said, he immediately started apologizing, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I didn't mean to stare-"

"I like you too."

"I just thought- Well, you're just really pretty and kind and funny and I don't know. I understand if you-"

"Andrew, I like you," you repeat, though he doesn't seem to hear you.

"I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship or anything. If-"

Clearly he wasn't listening. After a few more seconds of his rambling, you decide to kiss him. It was pretty effective too as he immediately shut up. He stood still for a few moments, his mind trying to catch up with his body, before closing his eyes and kissing you back.

The two of you pull away slightly, foreheads resting against one another. This time your face is bright red too.

"Maybe I should have started with that," you whisper, smiling at him sheepishly.

#i didnt know how to end this oops #is this good guys idk give me feedback 😭#proofread (kind of)#the chosen tv show #the chosen andrew #the chosen x reader #fairidvst

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snoutbleed · 9 months ago

Text

Telling a story takes guts.

Forensic photographer Sören Heinrich can’t ignore the nausea bubbling in his throat when documenting someone's darkest day. He loses sleep over the fates he captures but is drawn to the purpose vested in his grisly role. When blood-slicked prints become Sören's next subject, he finds a message that blurs the line between his personal and professional life.

"This is where I’ve been. Don’t follow."

Unable to fathom his long-lost brother’s crimson handwriting, Sören descends into the criminal underworld for answers. The young boar's inner demons guide him toward a morbid self-reckoning.

Direktion 2 has their work cut out for them.

Crime is on the rise in post-reunification Berlin. Among the cases, the Polizeidirektorate in the city's westernmost boroughs is baffled by freak murders at the hands of denizens without motive.

In the shadow of the Berlin Wall, the crime wave takes a supernatural twist behind the lock of a post-Soviet puzzle.

Camera flashes at the crime scenes reveal gruesome secrets stirring in the shadows.

Unravel the conspiracy in #LONG STORY SHORT.

#The Filing Cabinet -- scan the profiles of those in the know. #Bloodstained Polaroids -- view the images of lives gone astray. #Evidence Board -- learn the details of secrets best kept. #Mystery Signals -- behold the lore of the mind melt. Face the music in the official Long Story Short playlist!

Everyone gathers toward the Abschnitt.

There are several Polizei Berlin stations like the Abschnitt, but everyone tied to this supernatural symphony ends up near this Spandau station particularly.

Sören Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The black sheep of the Abschnitt. Sören’s abrasive nature keeps his co-workers at bay, a division widened by their western ideals clashing with his East German upbringing. He distances himself from the station through tight focus on his job, always the first to arrive at a crime scene. Don Jae Hale -- ( elk | tag | bio ) The silver-tongued Kriminalhauptkommissar of the Abschnitt. Hale is quick to dismiss the killings up until his leadership comes under siege by the paranoid public. Umeya Romanova -- ( fox | tag | bio ) The Bundeskriminalamt detective sent to assist with the Abschnitt’s mounting cases. Rumor says Umeya is there for more than the mystery, but her motives veiled by a callous attitude. Marieke Reiss -- ( rabbit | tag | bio ) The star psychology student barely escaped a killing. Now a key witness, Marieke can’t rest easy knowing she could be the next victim, driving her to take matters into her own hands. Reinhardt Müller -- ( donkey | tag | bio ) The Abschnitt’s disgraced ace detective, worn down and living in the grimy corners of Berlin. When crime spikes, Reinhardt tries to relive his “glory days" of detective work. Ukko Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The crime lord defends his territory with brutal but firm methods. He's sworn to his found family, the country's political rift making him protective to a fault. Vorwitz Albrecht -- ( bat | tag | bio ) A gardener with good banners but bad morals. Vorwitz's unsavory career choices put him in the Abschnitt, but he finds a way out with Sören.

Entropy knows no bounds.

Stop, look and listen: stories are everywhere. Behold my settings.

Face more madness in #TALES GONE STALE.

LAID TO WASTE -- an abomination stirs in the bayou, its secrets poisoning a township. THE WASTED LIVES -- a group of galactic fugitives embark on a never-ending getaway on a runaway cruiser. (Links need an update. Stay tuned.)

The mind behind the melancholy.

ACHTUNG! This blog is 18+ for gore and suggestive content!

You can call me Dissy (she/her). I'm a writer with stories and ideas always bouncing inside my head, especially this one. Feel free to ask me about myself, my writing, my characters, or anything else. I promise you I can bark up a tree for hours.

I also do Polaroid photography: check out @hogrot for my shots!

I also encourage comments, critique, etc. about this setting. I want to pace myself while writing this, therefore I have all the time I need to refine this where I can. I don't expect this story to come out for a while anyway, especially as I run it through critiques. Hell, this pet project wouldn't have come into fruition thanks to the feedback of some incredible friends.

Shoutout to PYRY for doing character design and art for this setting, as well as giving his ideas and characters for the Heinrich plotline. Go check out his killer art. This story wouldn't exist without him.

Another shoutout to @tsanapi, an incredible artist who drew the art pictured above. Her sense of style is so keen.

And a final thanks to you, the reader, for tuning into the mind melt. This signals wouldn't have picked up without you.

#wip intro #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing #story writing #furry writing #writing community #writer intro #long story short #furry #furry art #oc art #oc writing

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r3starttt · 9 months ago

Text

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME | 04

fic M.list | read this or DNI

It had been by far the longest night you've experienced, not only in your whole life but with someone, with Abby. The longest time you've spent with her. And you'd never imagined it'll be like this. It felt weird, not like anything you've ever expected or imagined before.

She slept quietly all night, the pure expression of calmness in her face was enough to keep you calm all night. Maybe she wanted this more than you, and that took away any sort of comfort you felt around her. Maybe you misunderstood everything and this was indeed wrong.

You couldn't sleep, not properly at least. Walking up three times for long periods of time that seemed endless. You felt overwhelmed and afraid of whatever came next, when she would wake up and you had to see her straight to the eyes again.

You didn't regret but this was just more hard to take than you ever imagined.

You got lost on your thoughts, zooning out while your eyes kept focused on the birds chirping, somewhere in the huge tree in front of your window- Abby's window.

Abby had her hand resting on the side of your arm, caressing your skin, slowly. Her nails tenderly scratching at your skin. You couldn't really see her but there had to be the littlest smile on her face.

You didn't mean to but ended up pushing her abruptly, sitting in the bed. The palm of your hand travelled over your face, forcing yourself to wake up and get out of bed.

"Are you gonna hold what happened last time against me?" The wooden base of the bed crackled as she moved. You didn't want to but still looked at her "No" a sheepish smile returned on your way, trying to bring comfort to this situation. Abby thought it was way too early for this, too early yet too late for her to regret what happened.

"Let's go swimming" you proposed, desperately trying to fill the emptiness between both, the awkward silence that was too loud it became painful. Abby pouted, shaking her head "can't, your mom sent me a note to pick some pages" you just nodded, taking a deep breath before standing up and leaving to the bathroom.

"Abby!" You spoke behind the door. Nuckles hitting the wooden door three times before her voice was heard. She'd been using the attic as her studio. Did she notice you were there before? Maybe that could explain the sudden secretiveness after you practically fucked marzia up there.

You got inside, being interrupted before you could even close the door.

"You're not sick of me yet?" your fingers started to roam against the surface of the freshly peach you'd just grabbed. Wondering if there was any response you should give to her. "No I just...I just wanted to be with you" Abby chuckled.

"I'll... I'm gonna... I'll go" your tongue brushed your bottom lip slightly. Her eyes didn't move away from you since the moment you came in and maybe in any other moment you would've reciprocate, but not today.

"Do you know how happy I am that we slept together?" Abby spoke, standing from her chair. She knew you would wait, and you would stay if she asked. But it felt wrong to know that, because of all that was behind that statement. Abby needed to talk about it all, to stop it if possible.

"I don't know" yet, hearing your voice made any plan she could ever made completely useless. "Of course, you don't know" Abby hated to see you like this. With a lost look, like you regretted what happened, like it was all her fault for making a mess out of someone as sweet as you.

"I don't want you to regret anything. And I hate the thought I may have messed you up or... I don't want any of us to pay for this" Abby's hands placed over your hands, taking away the peach you'd planned on eating while having this conversation, less awkward and formal. You nodded back "It's not like I'm gonna tell anyone. You're not gonna be, like, getting in trouble" she laughed.

Maybe this was it, what made you hate her. No matter what you did or said you could never be on the same page with her, it made you feel stupid, like the differences between both were more than just ideas in your mind. It all freaked you out. "That's not what I meant" she brought you closer to her, walking towards her desk and finally closing the door. Taking advantage of it to feel you deescreetly.

"Are you happy I came here?" Abby nodded, sitting on top of the old desk, making you smile at how it creaked. "This f' me?" She grabbed the peach, playing with it. You replied with a 'mhm' comfortly adjusting yourself on the chair.

Her middle finger traced a round path right in the middle. You stared at her, trying your best to play dumb, but the way her eyes were locked on yours, the way her finger got more deep inside the fruit, making it sound so obscene. You couldn't.

"Fuck" Abby laughed as the liquid of the peach runned down her arms. You stood up - not completely - enough to reach for her blouse, pushing her sleeved up to her elbows. She murmured a quiet 'thanks' but kept going.

Her finger ran down the peach, up and down. You got back in your seat, sarcastically rolling your eyes at her "what? You can but I'm not allowed to?" You furrowed in reponse "what do you mean I can?" Her words came out almost as a reflex, finally breaking the peach in half "You think I didn't notice? You made a mess, I had to clean it"

There was nothing you could reply to defend yourself. Once you fucked Marzia you realized that sex wasn't exactly what you were craving. It was abby. And the nearest thing to you was that fucking fruit. You made sure it didn't stay all sticky though, or at least you thought you did.

You were a mess and she wasn't, once again it made you feel stupid, like one toy for her that she had the tiniest bit ot care about. Flickering eyes at the thought of it.

"I'm sick, aren't I?" So far it was the first time you've got any resentment towards her. If there was something you hated was when people didn't play dumb, like you. Because for your mind -sick- there was nothing more stupid than being such a traitor and speaking things as they were. She represented all you hate and no matter how hard any of you tried, things always turned awkward and weird. "I wish everybody was as sick as you"

You shocked your head "why're you doing this to me?" In less than a blink of an eye, tears were already flooding your eyes. Abby let the peach aside, immediately getting rid of that sarcastic demeanor she'd shown to you. "Hey, what's wrong?" A quiet 'sorry" fell from your lips, trying to sway her hands away.

"It's okay" Abby ran her hand through her hair, not knowing what to do. She knew you were crying for her. And it made her feel physically sick. You covered your eyes with the palms of your hands, trying to force yourself and contain the tears.

Abby moved them away, making space for her lips. Afecctionately she pressed them over yours, cupping your face with her palms. Then she kissed your temple, softly. She took her time with every inch of your face until you were calmer. "Don't want you to go" you finally confessed, digging your fingers on her skin in hopes maybe she wouldn't leave like this.

It was official. She'd leave tomorrow morning.

It only felt real when she spoke with your parents to thank them for everything and of course, ask permission to take you out all day to a near town.

The rest of the day just felt like a dream. Drinking to forget and having deep talks to make all clear before she'd left. Like now

"We waisted so many days. Why didn't you give me a sign?" Your legs were intertwined with each other. You have her small slaps on the chest, facking but still being honest about how offended you were by it.

"I did" your voices overlapped "You didn't give me a sign" "I did" "When?" Abby straightened, moving her hand to the sides of your neck to push your hair aside "Remember when we were playing volleyball? And I touched you?" You smiled at the emphasis she made 'touched you'. Her lips pressed over your neck "just to show you" kiss "that I liked you?" Kiss.

A laugh escaped your opened mouth. Abby pushed you once she heard it "And the way you reacted made me feel like I'd molested you" you bit your inner lip before apologizing repeatedly "Nah its fine. I just decided I should jeep my distance" you both shared a small smile before music was heard.

Abbys reaction to it was almost immediate, like a reflex. "Hear that?" You sheepishly nodded. If it wasn't because of all the alcohol in your system you would've play dumb, like usual.

You tried kissing her to keep her distracted, but she was drunk and stubborn than ever. "Come on"

"This... fuck, this... You are" she spoke to a man, almost the same height as her. She dragged him away from what seemed like her girlfriend, just to dance with him.

Everything felt blurry. You had to threw up. She laughed at you, excusing herself almost immediately. "Fuck off Abigail"

Abby send all night taking care of you. Caressing your nacked back, whispering to you how much she loved you even though you were fully asleep. She didn't want to leave.

Yet a small hug was enough to say goodbye once the time arrived.

The train blowing its horn was something nor you or her would ever forget. The end of it all.

Your mom had to pick you up, and you felt like it all couldn't get more pathetic. Even when she wasn't here she still made you feel useless and stupid, like a fucking child.

"To make yourself feel nothing, so as not to feel anything. What a waste. Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once, and before you know it, your heart's worn out. And as for your body there comes a point when no one looks at it"

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yoonia · 1 year ago

Text

the bedroom hymns ● chapter v

⟶ Chapter summary | Your wish to reveal the secrets within the Elcester Forest is finally being fulfilled, but you are quick to find that you might be getting more than what you have been asking for. Mysterious occurrences appear before your eyes, and before you know it, a new world opens up for you, with many more wonders waiting for you to see.

chapter v. homecoming

We are going to burn.

We are burning. Oh, dear Lord in heavens. We are burning.

We are….not burning. We are….flying?

For one split second, it seems like your mind simply stops functioning. Your mouth has fallen open, yet there is no voice coming out of you even if you feel like screaming. One moment, the entire carriage seems to be burning, engulfed completely by the massive blue flame. And yet, even as you can see yourself being surrounded by the ominous blazing blue lights, there are no burns, no heat, not a single inch of the dancing flame touching the horses and the carriage, let alone your skin. Then, all of a sudden, the carriage seems to emerge from the flame, completely untouched, and on the other side you see nothing but the clear, yet still dark sky full of stars that seems so close that you can almost reach it. There are trees around you still, but the only thing you can see from them are merely their dense tips, as you seem to be floating between the foliage instead of driving through the trees.

“—ness!”

And now you are beginning to fall quickly from the sky, the clustered stars above getting further away right before your eyes while you feel like the dense thickets are swallowing you as you descend between them.

“—Highness!”

Just when you think that this is the end, the carriage lands roughly on the ground below, tossing you against the seats, while the horses—which had somehow landed more gracefully than the rocking carriage—immediately proceed their run as if nothing had happened.

As if they hadn’t just pulled you into a burning flame and sent you all floating far above ground towards the night sky.

“Your Highness! You are having a panic attack. Take a deep breath, look at me,” Nanny Abigail’s voice comes to you just as your senses are starting to work again, all the sounds from the horses’ rapid pace and the rocking wheels return to you, quickly snapping you out of it. You had been so taken aback by the situation that you hadn’t noticed that she has been awakened. Not only had she been pulled out of her sleep during the entire event, she is now sitting right next to you, with her hands clasping your trembling ones as she tries to calm you down.

Your chest still feels tight, so much so that you feel like you can never breathe again, and your throat is dry with your soundless scream. But seeing her face and knowing that you are still alive help bring you back to reality, no matter how distorted it seems to be right this moment. Before long, despite feeling like your entire world is still slanted with nothing separating between dream and reality, and despite the violent shaking happening around you as the driver struggles to control the horses and balance the carriage over the uneven ground, you are beginning to breathe easier without feeling like your chest is about to explode.

“There you go,” Nanny Abigail’s voice gently piercing through your muddled brain as she continues coaching you to find your calmness. “Focus on my voice and keep steadying your breathing. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”

In need to keep yourself grounded, you lean closer to Nanny Abigail and grip her hand harder as the carriage sways left and right violently as it drives down the road, seemingly as if it is going downhill even without you looking out the window. Keeping your eyes on her seems to be helping you from getting another panic attack, and from feeling sick from all the rapid motions happening all around you, while she somehow remains to be so calm through all the hectics.

How could she be so calm?

“We….we were—” you try to speak once you find your voice again, but Nanny Abigail gently shakes her head to stop you from forcing yourself, when it is clear that you are still struggling to recover from your shock.

“Yes, Your Highness. I know, but everything is okay now. See? We’re okay,” she continues reassuring you while rubbing her hand gently on your back so that the tension in your body slowly lessens. And it seems to be working, even if having your mind cleared only means that you can finally pay more attention to your surroundings, to see better at what is happening now.

The carriage continues to sway and rock a while longer until you feel it slowing down. The driver’s voice had sounded a bit strained earlier, but as he gently commands his horses to slowly come to halt, you can sense his tension loosening and he is slowly growing more relaxed and relieved for finally gaining back control over his carriage. The ride slows down until it stops moving, and the driver hops down from his seat. Through the windows, you watch the man as he walks over to his horses, taking his time to gently brush their mane while checking on their reins to make sure that they remain secured even after all the commotion. He leans closer to each one, as if whispering something to each one while he is tending to them, and the horses soon find calmness in his care.

As if they can understand his words completely.

You use this moment of quietness to find your own calmness, even as you are left astonished by the sight you are seeing. Settling back in the seat, you let go of Nanny Abigail’s hands as you look out the window to your sides, trying to figure out what had just happened. Outside, the forest is still visible. But it doesn’t take you long to realise that everything seems—different. The trees are dissimilar to the ones you saw before, as they are no longer looking as eerie nor daunting as what you had been seeing, even when the trees surrounding you now appear much bigger and taller in size. There are types of trees that you had never seen back in the Elcester Forest, with lean, yet sturdy upright trunks that look statuesque even in the dark. The foliage also appears thicker, with leaves that seem to be in darker shades which appear as if they are gleaming in the gloom as they reflect the moonlight above perfectly like mirrors.

Looking up at the evening sky, you also find visible differences to let you know that you are no longer in the Elcester Forest.

The sky has grown a little brighter than before, with the stronger moonlight illuminating the sky and the forest around you, and there seems to be a much denser clump of stars spread around the bright moon. And there is something else up there that has caught your attention while you were still struggling to get through your shock—the sight of an aurora dancing in the night sky, a colourful display of light that seems to be a complete contrast to the dark hue, in which you can see shades of light coloured in gold and copper blending in together like a cold flame glimmering between the bright display of stars.

The sight of the majestic display in the sky is still there as you lean closer to the window to see it, and you know that it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. Never once in your life had you ever seen this kind of spectacle back at the capital, nor had you ever seen it during the nights you ventured into the borders of the woodlands. As the glow seems to dance in the night sky, it almost feels like you can hear its movement, as if there is a faint murmur of musical tone echoing through the air together with each twist and swirl.

The carriage shakes a little when the driver hops back onto his seat. He turns to the window to look back at his passengers, giving you and Nanny Abigail a remorseful grin that doesn’t seem quite genuine when he speaks to you. If any, it seems clear that what just happened had only amused him dearly. “Forgive me for the bumpy ride, Your Highness, and kind Governess. Seems like our little detour earlier had caused us to stray out of course a bit further than expected. Not to worry though, we’ll find our way back in no time, hopefully before the sun is high. We just need to get out of this hill first.”

Without waiting for your response, he turns back to the front and cracks his whip in the air, setting off his horses back into their determined and steady pace. The ride runs more smoothly as the journey continues, though what you are able to sense from the drive only surprises you more.

Earlier, while going through the road in the middle of the Elcester Forest, the path you were taking mostly remained on plain ground, with only small hills appearing in between. Now, just after encountering the ominous wall of flame, you find yourself going downhill from what seems to be quite of a high altitude. The woodlands around you don’t seem as dense either, as you keep seeing more openings, less of those thick, reaching branches obstructing your view but with more leaves sprouting far above ground in multiple layers of thick foliage.

The ride continues, with your attention being distracted by your new surroundings, until the ground seems to be growing more plain and even. Just as the carriage is slowly reaching to what seems to be the edge of the wooded hill, and right as you are beginning to believe that it wouldn’t be possible for more surprises to happen to you, you catch the sight of a pair of men on horses coming your way.

“Halt! Who goes there?” one of the horsemen calls out to the driver, who quickly eases his horses down to a halt. As the men draw closer to the carriage, you are able to see what the men are wearing. Unlike the plain looking armour which you had seen worn by the members of the mercenary army roaming the capital, these men are wearing fancy armours similar to the ones the royal guards of Nythelean Empire Army would wear. You notice a matching insignia marked on both of their chest protectors which looks nothing like any of the symbols of the armies from any kingdom that you have ever known.

The other horseman inquires the driver as he also draws closer from the other side of the carriage. “What is your business here, Sir?”

You feel tense, wondering what the driver would tell them. Once again, Nanny Abigail grabs your hand to keep you calm, as if she can sense your trepidation without you saying it out loud. Meanwhile, the driver at the front sounds as calm as he has been the whole night when he answers, “Just passing through, Colonel. We got lost between the hills back there. Didn’t expect that it would still be this dark when we came through here.”

“And where are you heading to?”

Hearing this question, the driver smiles and points towards the passenger window behind him, and you start panicking. “The ladies here wanted to see the sunrise. They heard that it would be beautiful to watch the sun coming up from the beaches on the coastal area,” the driver cheerfully says, while you can hear your own heartbeat racing fast. You have no idea what the driver is up to now by drawing their attention on you—when you were not supposed to be seen by anyone—but there is really nothing that you can do about it except to stay silent and let him handle everything. “Do you by any chance know where we should go to reach the coastline? We mean no harm, we promise. Just out here on a short vacation before the summer ends, is all.”

The first horseman who isn’t conversing with the driver goes around the carriage, studying the ride closely and peeking through the windows with pure curiosity. There is something about him that reminds you of the nameless mercenary soldier you met at the pub a few nights ago—his attentive eyes, his cold smile and genuine interest, and his entire demeanour as he carefully guides his horse around the carriage—which makes you feel cautious under his gaze. You instinctively avoid his eyes, keeping your head down while holding tightly around your necklace to remain calm.

Unlike you, Nanny Abigail simply greets the man with a smile and a courteous nod when she meets his gaze, before the man finally returns to the front of the carriage to join his comrade. You see both men talking in low voices with each other for a quick moment, until the other nods, his face looking more at ease after listening to the report he is given, yet he still remains vigilant when he speaks to the driver again.

“Keep heading to the East, make sure to keep following the road and you will get there in no time. The sunrise is coming soon so you might want to hurry if you want to catch it. Be careful not to go straying into others’ property and stay clear from the wastelands. There would be no one to keep you secure if you should get lost out there in that area,” the soldier instructs the driver politely, to which the latter responds kindly as if he hadn’t been unfairly questioned just now or heard the underlying threat that you can easily sense from the guard’s words.

“Will do, Colonel. Thank you for the help, and forgive us for all the trouble.”

“You drive safely now, Sir,” the other soldier says, his eyes finding the window to meet your gaze once more when he says, “Take care, Miss.”

You nod at the soldier with a smile. At the front, the driver cracks his whip, commanding his horses to continue the journey, keeping a slow and steady pace as the carriage drives past the soldiers who remain in their spots, watching as the ride starts heading towards the edge of the woods.

You can only breathe a sigh of relief once the ride continues smoothly ahead, until you realise that His Majesty’s royal guards who you saw following you closely back in the Elcester Forest are now nowhere to be seen. Before you get to question any of this, you start seeing the driver cautiously looking over his shoulder, subtly taking heed of the soldiers’ movements, and then Nanny Abigail shows you yet another questionable behaviour as she speaks out to the driver through the front window, “They’ve gone deeper into the woods.”

At the front, the driver nods approvingly. “It appears so. Wonder what they were doing out here in the bluffs. They don’t belong in this territory more than we do.”

His response got you feeling curious, so you sneak a glance through the back window, watching as the soldiers disappear through the thickets. You have no idea why you were drawn to them despite feeling uneasy when they intercepted your ride earlier. The uneasiness remains even as you watch their backs fade into the gloom, as you silently wonder why they had let you go so freely if this truly had been a forbidden territory for you to past through, or if there had indeed any threats from your father’s enemies to do you harm.

Meanwhile, as the carriage continues getting further away from the bluffs, the soldiers continue to ride their horses deeper into the woods to make their way up towards the top of the hill, oblivious to the attention they have been getting. Keeping their horses running at a steady pace and staying close to each other, they continue to discuss what they had just encountered.

The one who was looking at you before you departed speaks first, asking his comrade, “Did you see any emblem shown on the carriage?”

The other soldier shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. There was only a symbol on the wheels that didn’t seem like a symbol of any reigning kingdom that I know of. Despite its size, the carriage was made to look like a common people’s ride.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” the first soldier says. “But it makes me wonder—” he discreetly looks over his shoulder, watching the tail of the departing carriage through the corners of his eyes before it disappears completely from sight. “Why would an unmarked common people’s carriage carrying two maidens who are out traveling on an uncharted territory be covered by such a powerful flow of magic?”

His comrade responds with a grim voice as he has been wondering the same thing, “My question exactly. We need to find a way to send this news to His Highness, Prince Yoongi, in the human realm. I’m sure he would love to hear about this incident before the news ever gets back to the palace.”

The rest of the journey is filled with silence.

To say that you are still shocked sounds like an understatement. And yet, for some reason, it seems like your senses are in high alert with curiosity, as if you are readying yourself to experience more surprises.

Perhaps this is why you can easily notice it once the terrain seems to be changing again. The ride has been going on plain ground for a while, as the driver followed the road as instructed by the local soldiers towards the East.

For a while, you see nothing but meadows and green sloping hills surrounding you, until the road slowly begins ascending again, and the green meadows begin to decline, showing you a spread of arid ground mixed with white sand and flat rocks rising here and there. The higher the ground rises, the more you see a layer of white mist rising around you. It surprises you just how fast the mist soon grows into a thick layer of fog once you realised its presence, and it is beginning to make it hard for you to see what is happening around you. It the meantime, it doesn’t seem like the driver is having the same problem as he remains focused in leading his horses to drive through the thick mist, as he somehow manages to keep the ride to remain on the road.

But the surprise doesn’t end there, as you begin to see His Majesty’s guards that have been absent earlier emerging through the fog one by one, joining the carriage as it continues heading up towards the peak of the ascending terrain. From the guards who stayed with you until the end to those who had separated themselves from the entourage much earlier back in the Elcester Forest when they went to investigate your pursuers.

Through the window, you see one of the guards closing in, his voice is drowned by the sounds of the galloping horses that you can only catch on a few words he is sharing with the driver, “….tried to catch up…stalled during the leap…came out at a different place than intended.”

“Figured as much,” you hear the driver responding to him calmly without taking his eyes off of the road. “We came out on the bluffs just beyond the borders. We met some company intercepting our arrival which His Majesty would have loved to hear about.”

You see them exchanging a few more words before the guard separates himself and begins leading his horse at the front of the entourage to act as a guide. As he advances through the thick mist, it magically melts around him, as if giving him passage to march forward, showing you what the mist had been trying to conceal.

Beyond you arises what appears to be a smaller replica of Mount Orrum, a mountain with grey slabs of rocky walls waiting for you where the meadows end. Shadows of massive rocks in various forms and sizes are visible through the fog when you look towards the right side of the road, which you are unable to identify, though you immediately remember about the ‘wastelands’ that the soldiers have mentioned before and wonder if the driver had ignored their warnings to enter the forbidden area.

The carriage continues ascending in height, and you suddenly feel the warmth of sunlight flooding into the carriage. Ignoring the dark figures being concealed by the fog to your right, you turn to search for the sunlight on the opposite side of the road. This time, the fog seems to know what you are wishing to see, and it disperses just enough for you to find what you are looking for.

What you had thought to be a rising ground covered with rocks on your left turns out to be the edge of an elevated cliff. Beyond the line of rocks covering the side of the road, you see nothing but a far drop down below, where you can roughly see a spread of white-sanded coastline and a widespread of clear ocean which seems endless, with the horizon located far away where the morning sun is seen rising from.

Laying your gaze at the beach and the chasing waves below, then up to the cliff walls that appear to be rising at the ends of the beach line, you are overcome with a sense of familiarity. I know this place, you wonder as you lean closer to the window, hoping to get a better look at the view and try to recall why this place feels so familiar to you.

An image appears from the back of your mind right at that moment, of a clear wide ocean and the white-sanded beach, of the slanted cliffs with green patches of grass and wildflowers growing on the very top where you found yourself wandering blissfully with your bare feet sinking into them, and the man who seemed to have come out of the rocky walls just to greet you,

“We will see each other soon…”

All of a sudden, you feel something blooming inside your chest.

To this day, you still have yet to figure out who he was, and you have no idea how to find out anything about this mysterious being without questioning your sanity for searching for a figure that you had only seen in your dreams. But you have never felt such a yearning for someone or something that seems so otherworldly before, to feel such desire so deep, and that feeling has persisted ever since you had the dream visiting you in your sleep. The images you saw has been haunting you, along with the man who you had only met in that short, yet euphoric moment that you can remember every part of it even now that you are awake.

Seeing this place appearing before you now gives you some sort of hope. It feels like you finally have something to look forward to, seeing that this place is real, and to find it when you are to reach the place which might become your new home.

As if the universe is answering your silent musings, the driver turns and alerts you of what is coming right ahead.

“Keep your eyes looking ahead, Your Highness. As promised, I’m bringing you home just as the sky is turning brighter, and I know that you would love to see this,” the driver shouts excitedly through the front window. “We have arrived.”

You look to the front only to see nothing but a thick layer of fog forming right ahead of the carriage, as it continues to crawl and rise from the ground together with the entire entourage taking you home. One by one, the royal guards seem to be swallowed by the white fog as they march right ahead, and soon it would be your turn. But the carriage continues driving forward, as if the driver knows where to go without having a clear visual of the road beyond. You can hear the changes happening around you when the horses begin to slow down and the wheels start running over what seems to be cobblestone-covered road.

As if there is magic present in the air, the fog disperses itself completely right before your eyes, and emerging from the darkness is a massive castle, standing magnificently right atop of the peak of the rocky mountain.

You watch in awe as the carriage draws closer and closer towards the castle, speeding up slowly as it drives over the rise on the road leading towards the main gate. As the gate opens, allowing the carriage to enter through the front courtyard, your eyes remain at the castle, taking in all the details that you are seeing upon first glance before immediately finding the front door of the majestic palace which holds another surprise waiting for you.

Right there, standing at the threshold of the new palace which would soon become your new home, surrounded by his royal guards as he awaits for your arrival, is your father. His Royal Majesty King Aneas who had been there to bid you farewell as he sent you off to your departure from The Citadel is now here, waiting for you to arrive at your destination in the dawn.

Too astonished at the sight of your father, you can barely focus on anything else, not even when the royal guard welcoming your arrival comes to assist you as you step down from the carriage. You barely notice the touch of the guard’s gentle hand as he brings you to your father, who is waiting patiently for you with a smile on his face, and for a moment, you almost believe that the sight of him standing right in front of you is nothing more but yet another figment of your imagination.

That is, until you hear a heavy chuckle coming out of the back of his throat, his low and deep voice letting you know that he is real, that His Royal Majesty King Aneas is actually here, looking deeply into your curious eyes when he calmly greets you,

“Welcome home, Princess. Welcome to Stargrave Castle.”

“How was it possible for Your Majesty to get here before I do?”

Seeing your father welcoming you at the door was already quite an unexpected affair, but it feels more astonishing to see him laughing so freely at your question. Surprisingly, none of the guards or staff around you seem fazed at how lax he is being with you, unlike how he would usually act while at The Citadel where he would still address and treat you formally in front of others.

“Out of all the questions that you could possibly be giving me, that was your first choice?” King Aneas asks you curiously.

“Honestly, I have too many questions right now but I just don’t even know where to start. Although I must say that it’s what I’m most curious about right now,” you simply tell him with an exhale of sigh, and you are not completely lying either. You do have a myriad of questions running through your head, yet this has been the one plaguing your thoughts for quite some time. Even before seeing him today.

After the day you tried to find your father at the palace only to hear that he was away, you kept remembering all the times you found out that His Majesty was gone from the palace without you ever seeing him leaving, or when he would suddenly show up to see you right after arriving back from his trips without you ever noticing his return. And now here he is, appearing right before your eyes, when you still remember clearly how you saw the King retreating back into the palace as the royal carriage took you away from The Citadel.

Instead of giving you the answer that you needed, your father simply turns away, leaving you with no choice but to follow him. Walking into the entrance foyer, you are met by the presence of the palace staff, the lady maids and servants who are standing in line against the wall to welcome your arrival. Each one of them formally greets you, curtsying and bowing at their waist as the King announces your arrival.

“These are the palace staff who will assist you on your daily duties and tend to your needs while you are staying here,” King Aneas calmly introduces them to you, before summoning someone from the line.

A man who seems like an older gentleman with a thick hair that appears almost like silver comes forward to greet you with a bow. Wearing a formal royal suit, the man also carries with him a short sword, something that you had rarely seen back at The Citadel where it would have been forbidden for anyone working closely with the King to carry a weapon or armoury with them.

“This is Lord Gordan. He is the head of staff and my right hand man who is responsible in taking care of all the important matters within the palace,” your father explains, introducing the man to you.

“Your Highness,” Lord Gordan greets you with a bow.

“He will help you with everything you need and be your personal guide as you take your time adjusting yourself with this palace. Since you didn’t bring with you any of your lady-in-waiting or personal maid from the capital, Lady Abigail will temporarily take over all of their duties until you choose yourself your personal attendant and lady maids to assist you with your daily needs and royal duties.”

King Aneas then proceeds to take you through the palace, accompanied by Lord Gordan and a royal guard following close behind. You had parted ways with Nanny Abigail and the friendly driver at the front door, as a senior servant had taken over your governess’ care by showing her towards her personal chamber so she could have some rest while the driver bid to you his goodbye to tend to his exhausted horses.

You continue to follow your father until you reach a glorious-looking room that looks to be his personal office or study room. The room feels more expansive compared to the one he normally uses back at The Citadel, with a small library connected to it on one side and various artefacts being laid out on the opposite side. Even the desk at the center seems larger and stronger, with a chair that has a high backrest which seems more like a throne than a regular working chair.

On the corner of the room, you see a mirror standing in front of a massive bookcase. The dark surface that barely reflects anything you see in the room draws your attention to it, and you are almost sure that you see a sight of blue threads of light sparkling on the mirror which dissolve just as quickly as they appear before your eyes. But with a ton of things running through your mind at the moment, you choose to pay no heed to it further and stay away from it instead.

While the King is busy conversing with Lord Gordan, you walk towards the nearby window overlooking the courtyard, giving them some space to discuss their matters as you look around. You take a moment to revel in the sight of the morning sky which you can see beyond the palace’s walls, enjoying the moment of peace, until you hear the King relieving Lord Gordan temporarily to tend to his other duties.

“I don’t understand,” you finally ask the King once you are left alone with him in the room, though you remain by the window to bask in the warm sunlight to keep your mind clear for this conversation. “Where are we, Father? What is this place?”

King Aneas comes to join you and looks out the window, staring far into the distance. “This is Stargrave Castle. This place is special, and safe,” he says, keeping his eyes at the brightening morning sky for a while longer before turning to you. There is a hint of softness in his gaze when your gazes meet each other. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

A gentle smile appears on his face when King Aneas answers you, “This is home. Your home. You were born in this place and were raised here as a child by your mother.”

“What? But I thought—”

Out of all the things you had expected to hear, all the answers you wanted to gain from him, this was not one of them. A part of you is quick to deny this, but then all the distorted memories you have had over the years start coming back to you, leading you to start wondering—

“That you were born at the capital? That your true home was the summer palace?” your father questions you, and you find yourself nodding, too speechless and confused to answer him with words. “No, Princess. This is our home castle.”

The King looks away again, and you can sense hurt and bitterness coming from his words when he gently adds, “This used to be, at least.”

You remain silent. Your head is spinning, unable to comprehend this new reality that he is forcing you to see after years of believing everything that your memories have been telling you about your past life. When the King, your own father, continues to tell a completely different story than what you had remembered, it almost feels like you are listening to the life of an entirely different person.

“Right after you were born, our empire was forced to face a situation much similar to this one. It was at the end of the Great War, and in order to keep you and herself safe, your mother took you away from home. The summer palace, Seacrest Manor, was a sanctuary that your mother built together with the people who joined her in her escape, and she remained there until I was able to build us a new home, only once I conquered the land of Smotia and claimed it as ours. That was when I finally came to find you and your mother and brought you both back to join me at The Citadel. The manor remains to this day, only as a memorial to your mother’s journey and home for the people who fought alongside her to find and built their safe haven, and so does this castle, as it holds many memories of our peaceful life before the war.”

Everything sounds absurd, even as you listen to this whole new story. The story that had not been written in the history books which you studied almost your entire life. And yet, you find yourself his words as you listen to them carefully and find no deceit in them. “That was how you got to Smotia. Because Mother made it her—no, our sanctuary.”

“You are correct, Princess,” the King says with pride gleaming in his eyes. The same pride that blooms in your chest as you picture your mother as the one behind the rise of your father’s empire.

There are still so many questions in your head, so many things that your father has yet to explain, yet the whole night has been such a journey that you feel too drained to take anymore of this in. So you keep most of your questions and doubts to yourself.

For now.

“Is this not a part of Smotia?” is the only thing you ask of him as you look out the window, witnessing the rare sight of sunrise that you have never seen before back at the capital—the crystal glow of the sunlight being reflected on the surface of the calm ocean as it continues emerging fully from the horizon.

King Aneas smiles. “This part of the region is known to be Flagon. Smotia’s own domain ends at the center of the Elcester Forest and where the bluffs bordering between our empire’s territory and our neighbouring empires reside.” You suddenly remember the odd place where you had emerged onto after encountering the blue wall of flame, about the soldiers who came to warn you about crossing over territories where you don’t belong to, and finally understand more about the tension that had been shared in the carriage then. “This territory is still under Nythelean Empire’s rein, with the center of the government now placed at The Citadel, but you might soon find that the people here are…different.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Different from the people in Smotia?”

The King nods. “Most of them are, although there are a lot of the people residing in this palace who used to live in Smotia. Just like how there are people back in the capital and the surrounding districts who had once lived in this part of the region before joining me in Smotia to help me build the capital and its towns.”

“Everything here does seem different,” you admit to your father, while refraining yourself from telling him that you can also feel some differences from him.

Ever since the moment you met him at the main entrance of the castle, you had already felt it. When at The Citadel, His Majesty seems more restrained and closed off when it comes to interacting with his people or when dealing with any matters related to the Empire, he seems brighter here and more open to talk to, and you can even feel a comforting vibe emerging from him by staying this close to him.

“This place, this side of the Empire’s territory, is nothing like the other part of the region that you have been so accustomed with growing up at the capital,” the King answers you, drawing yet another curiosity from you that you turn to look at him closely for answers.

“Really? What is so different about this place?” you curiously inquires him. “What exists in this place that we wouldn’t be able to find before back at the capital, aside from its people?”

King Aneas, who is usually so quiet and has been known to hold a myriad of secrets, turns to you with a smile on his face, as he reveals to you the one secret that you would have never expected to hear directly from him.

“Magic.”

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