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scuderiahoney · 1 month

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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5

Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words

Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury

It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.

“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.

Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”

“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”

George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.

Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”

“Not really?” He says, shrugging.

Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”

Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.

Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”

You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“

“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”

…..

The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.

Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.

You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”

Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.

An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.

After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.

“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.

He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.

…..

The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.

By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.

When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.

“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.

“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.

“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.

Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”

Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”

You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.

…..

Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.

“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”

Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”

“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”

Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.

“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”

Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.

He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”

You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.

“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”

Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.

Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.

You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.

The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”

You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”

Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”

You nod. “I’ll stay here!”

“Me too,” Oscar adds.

“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”

Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.

A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.

“This is really nice,” he says, softly.

The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”

Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”

He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.

“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.

There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.

…..

Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.

You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.

You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.

Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”

You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.

Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.

“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.

You nod. “Me too.”

His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-

Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?

“I…” he starts, then stops.

You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.

If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.

He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.

…..

The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.

He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.

Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.

There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.

One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.

When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.

He just eyes you carefully,

“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”

You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.

You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.

It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.

When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.

You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”

His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.

“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”

You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”

You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.

Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.

One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.

“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”

You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”

“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you murmur back.

Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.

…..

Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.

The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.

The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.

“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”

His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”

You shrug and wink. “Close second.”

He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.

“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.

You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”

He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”

You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”

He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”

And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.

You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.

“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.

Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”

“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.

When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.

You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.

When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.

“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.

“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up on your other side. “We’ll be back.”

He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.

“Promise?” You ask, quietly.

He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.

The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.

bunnyrabb1t

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others

bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever

landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(

oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb

landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream

lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!

bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘

alex_albon hey. back off 🤺

oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️

bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️

charles_leclerc 🤨

carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you

part 6, back to course, available here!

notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11

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dotieeee · 4 months

Text

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 6

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 6 Warnings:

Some noncon touching and canoodling (no spoilers)

Replay Level 5

Ready? Level 6 Start:

A knock on the ornate door reverberates inside the empty lab, giving you a tiny jolt in your chair. This must be him, coming over to ‘collect you.’

Like the Grim Reaper who’s come take your soul.

Or maybe it isn’t him. After all, the door isn’t locked, and he’s used to visiting by now to know he can just come in after a knock or two. You get up to open the door, willing your hands to stop shaking so he doesn’t see that you’re fazed by his mere presence.

How are going to win this if you start crumbling like a stale cookie whenever he’s around?

You yank the door open, expecting the Devil himself disguised in slick platinum-blond hair and a finely tailored suit, but instead, you get a man in a hat and a courier’s uniform.

“Ms Prunella Innis?” He inquires.

“Yes?”

He hands you a clipboard for you to sign and picks up this enormous white box wrapped in a satin crimson bow lying by his feet. He also hands you the bouquet he’s cradling, then strides past you to deposit the box on the nearest table. Judging by the red roses in the bundle of blooms, you know who sent you everything without even asking.

Coriolanus Snow never does subtle.

You thank the courier as he exits the lab, tipping his hat in response as he does. Gingerly, you prod the box with a finger, thinking maybe anything could come flying out of the box and rip your face out. It doesn’t move, so maybe the thing inside is dead and he just sent it for the funsies. You brace yourself as you unravel the bow, eager to just get it over with. You lift the lid and a subtle waft of roses greets you.

You gasp when you discover that the contents of the box are nowhere near what you’d been expecting.

They’re actually much worse.

Inside the box are three smaller boxes, all wrapped in red satin ribbons, placed on top of what looks like fancy crepe paper. A card lies atop the tiniest of the boxes with handwriting you can recognise from a mile away.

To my Sugarplum,

Wear this tonight. A car will pick you up from the Corso III entrance at six. We will talk about your response to my request then,

Your Coryo

The box underneath the note reveals a heart-shaped ruby necklace with a fine white gold chain, similar to the chain of that plum-coloured diamond he gave you. In the confines of the second box lies a small black silk clutch, embellished in minuscule silver beads, and embroidered with fine-spun silver, making up a pattern resembling roses. The third box contains a pair of single-strap black satin high-heeled pumps. Underneath those boxes, covered in what you originally thought was just wrapping paper, is a floor-length slip dress made of silk in the loveliest shade of crimson. Based on the superb craftsmanship of the dress alone, you can tell that it isn’t something one can buy off-the-rack. Tailor-made by Coriolanus Snow’s choice of tailor shop, judging by the logo sticker sealing the crepe wrapping paper together.

There was one time these extravagant gifts would’ve sent you in a grateful, ecstatic mood.

That feels like forever ago, now.

At the moment, your gut just stirs in discomfort, looking at this luxurious mess.

Your trepidation only mounts as you watch the clock trudge slowly from day to night. By four, you get home and prepare for the inevitable. You try not to be surprised with the way the dress hugs your figure perfectly, because then that would mean he somehow got lucky with eyeballing your dress size, or that he got ahold of your measurements through questionable means. By five-thirty, the girl in your mirror is barely recognizable – a girl you’ve never seen before, put together on the outside and nearly falling apart at the seams on the inside.

It certainly doesn’t help that the near-nauseating scent of roses still emanates from the dress you’re wearing.

The reflection staring back at you seems to mock you, telling you this is your life now, all preened up at the behest of a stranger whose pastime is pushing other people under his thumbs. Oh well. You’ll get out of this invasive mask soon, you assure yourself.

The driver who’s expecting you right at your building’s entrance wordlessly opens the car door for you. An Avox, you recognise – a product of one of the Capitol’s many sophisticated ways of punishing dissent. Because sometimes death by hanging takes the rebels out of their misery too quickly, so one brilliant mind in the Capitol one day had this brilliant idea of cutting people’s tongues off and shunning them into the lowest wrung of society so they could live a life of servitude, not subjecting anyone else to their worthless, wayward opinions.

And of course, everyone else agreed with how fucking brilliant an idea it was.

Would you have preferred Sejanus be sentenced this way and still have him alive instead of dead? You banish the thought as quickly as it had come – too morbid, even by your standards. Besides, there was no way the Capitol could’ve shut him up, even without his tongue. He still would’ve fought tooth and nail for the change he wanted to see in the world.

Ten minutes to six and you’re already pulling up to the entrance of what looks like The Palisades Hotel, the grandest luxury five-star hotel in all of Panem. There are many other cars already milling at the entrance, with small crowds forming to presumably greet each other. The Chauffeur opens your car door, and immediately after stepping out of the rental car, you spot the very man responsible for you being here instead of at home, guzzling hot chocolate and stuffing your face with angel food cake.

Coriolanus Snow seems to be engaged in a lighthearted conversation with a group of older men in flashy tuxedos you only vaguely recognise by face, but his attention shifts the moment he sees you emerge from the car. You could see him mouth ‘see you inside’ to them as one of them shakes his hand vigorously. His piercing blue eyes scan your frame a few feet away, his lilting grin never vanishing from his face as he approaches you.

He seems to have lured you into some kind of party under false pretences.

He looks flawless, as he always does: his platinum-blond locks combed back, his sleek crimson tuxedo matching yours, and a signature white rose pinned to his lapel; no wonder he almost fooled you – that blinding charm he has always allowed him to hide something sinister underneath.

You could feel your pulse race with every step he takes in your direction. It takes you a fraction of a second to realise he’s holding out his hand, which you tentatively accept. He never breaks eye contact with you as he brushes his lips over the back of your hand.

You might’ve yanked your hand away a little too fast for his liking, for you see his eyes flash danger before shifting to his usual semblance of warmth.

He leans into your ear and whispers, “Sugarplum, you are a sight to behold.”

You put on the best realistic smile you can muster. “Thank you. And thank you for the dress and...everything else.”

You stay frozen to your spot as he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingers briefly brushing against your cheek. “There. Perfect,” he says. “And there’s no need to thank me. I like spoiling my sugarplum with only the best.”

But despite the rather depressing outlook you had coming here, there’s a glimmer of hope you see as an idea strikes you. Maybe you can get out of this early, after all.

“Coryo, Uncle Cas agreed,” you tell him at once. And then make up an excuse and bolt. Anything to get out of here and away from him. “He’s willing to transfer my apprenticeship.”

Coriolanus beams in delight at the news, his eyes twinkling as he takes the initiative to wrap your arm around his. “I’m so happy to hear that, sugarplum. The highlight of my night. Let me take you inside; a lot of people are dying to see you.”

Before you can complain, however, he all but steers you inside the lobby and to the entrance of the Palisades’ grand hall.

“Where exactly are we going, Coryo?” you ask. He never said anything about other people, but maybe they could come in handy in case you need to duck and make a run for it.

He releases a short sigh, looking apologetic and slowing his pace. “I may have forgotten to tell you that we’d be attending Mr Plinth’s birthday party tonight. I’m sorry, sugarplum, I’ve been meaning to invite you in person, but I’ve been so busy lately it slipped my mind.”

Your hand makes its way to your mouth as you gasp. “But haven’t brought him a gift…”

He is quick to dismiss your concern as he waves to someone exiting the hall. “It’s okay. I wrote both our names on the card on my gift.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, as the massive gold-painted doors open to a grand hall lined with marble and gold, revealing a crowd of people already chatting and enjoying the booze over a full orchestra playing at the corner of the stage. You could feel the blood drain from your face as a sea of curious, ogling eyes trails on you both entering the grand hall, but you power through and smile – there’s no escaping now, at this point.

“I’m simply taking responsibility,” Coriolanus responds in a teasing tone. “Would you rather have come here without a gift?”

You look up at him while you cling onto his arm for some support. He looks every bit at home with all the attention – so undeniably different from the eighteen-year-old Academy Coriolanus fidgeting with his collar all those years ago on the day of the Reaping.

You wonder inwardly if that’s the only thing in him that’s changed, while everything else that’s rotten in him had always been there, if not amplified.

“I guess not,” you acquiesce. “Thank you. Please let me know how I can pay you back.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll think of something,” he says with a lopsided grin.

Coriolanus’s arm veers you to Mr and Ma Plinth, who are both entertaining guests. You give Mr Plinth your well-wishes for his birthday and get a motherly hug from Ma, who gushes over how ‘you look every bit like a princess.’

“My sons sure have excellent taste,” she tells Coriolanus with a wink, earning a hearty laugh from him before she pulls him into an affectionate embrace.

The dress. She’s referring to the dress for sure.

But just when you think you’re finally free to just face the farthest corner and disassociate, his arm wraps around your waist and leads you away to meet other people. People you’d rather not associate with.

The horror.

But as usual, you paint on the demurest of smiles, trying not to be fazed by the flashing of cameras in the hall. The party is apparently heavily covered by the media, so Coriolanus does his best to mesmerise everyone with his wit, his looks and his charisma, while you play the role of the dolled-up, docile arm décor, beaming and chiming in only when spoken to.

It’s nothing short of demeaning, but you’re here to play his game, and losing isn’t an option.

Coriolanus proudly introduces you to everyone you meet as his official gamemaker apprentice, much to their admiration. A lot of them, powerful, important heads in the Capitol and their children, some of whom you know by face at the University. Most of them, unfamiliar faces, but they feel the need to give you unsolicited advice – somewhere along the lines of being seen more among peers of the same societal status.

“How come we don’t see you out that often?”

“You’re so pretty, you should go out more and have fun!”

“Nellie, we usually hang out at this bar, it’s super exclusive, you should come with us sometime.”

The same thing, over and over, and you just go along, nodding or shaking your head and laughing whenever a joke is told, crack a few yourself, exchange toasts over minuscule sips of booze, and tell them through gritted teeth that you’ll see them around, only to be snatched away again by the waist by Coriolanus and be brought over to another clique. Your Uncle Cas would be laughing his ass off at you if he could see you right now.

The cycle goes on, and you find yourself getting better at it with practice. Just like a loop, repeating a set of code for x number of times, automating repetitive, boring tasks on a computer application.

The only problem with loop conditions: when poorly written, can lead to infinite loops, which can cause the application’s unresponsiveness.

You vaguely wonder how long this loop is conditioned to last.

A guy you’ve seen in one of your classes approaches you and strikes up a conversation, just when Coriolanus is looking away, his hand slack on your waist as he speaks with a Mr Rutherford.

“I read your paper on the application of artificial intelligence in automating retina-scanning and other security measures,” he says, adding for clarification when you flash him a questioning look, “It’s in the library, along with your other research papers. It’s so well put together.”

He holds out his hand as he introduces himself as Ovidius Browne, the youngest of three sons of business magnate Octavius Browne. The Brownes own a number of factories in District 6. You shake his outstretched hand. He reveals himself to be in his junior year in computer engineering, a career he decided to take to help improve their company’s factory conditions. He wonders if such levels of automation would be possible in basic manufacturing tasks like quality inspection and inventory scanning without taking jobs away or being too invasive to factory workers. It’s a terrific concept, you say, and you get so pumped with exchanging ideas that you forget to put up your facade and instead engage wholeheartedly, at least until a cold hand travels from the back of your neck down to your spine, settling on the small of your back and tracing circles with a finger.

“Browne, is it?” Coriolanus Snow’s baritone chips in.

You introduce them formally and they exchange a brief and polite handshake.

“I’d like to discuss more of that with you Ms Innis,” Ovidius says. “If we could perhaps exchange numbers – ”

“Of course, we’d love to chat, Mr Browne. I can give Nellie your office number and she’ll get in touch,” Coriolanus interrupts genially. His fingers are still drumming over your back as he continues, “Apologies, I have to take my apprentice away; there is someone I’d like her to meet.”

He grips your waist to pull you away without waiting for a response from either of you.

You shoot him a confused look. “Coryo, he was just – ”

“About to ask you to put in a good word on his behalf to your uncle? Yes, he was.” He says with an eyebrow raised in disapproval.

“But we were just talking about...tech stuff. Are you sure?”

The conversation you had with him didn’t seem like it’ll branch off into that territory.

He nods once. “A little bird may have chirped to me about a certain Browne sibling’s internship application getting rejected twice by the Dean of Computer Sciences. It’s like you said before, sugarplum: just another one of those sycophants complimenting you in exchange for something.”

How much inside information does he have stockpiled on other people? Maybe he keeps them stashed in his closet labelled ‘in case of emergency, break glass.’

Just when you thought you could talk to someone about something you’re genuinely interested in for once this night.

You’re recognised by a surprisingly pleasant, popular senior and it-girl from your college, Ursa Talbot – daughter of Labor Solicitor Ursinus Talbot – who ropes you in with her gaggle of girlfriends, chatting to you about the exclusive, invite-only social clubs she’s joined and offers to vouch for you.

Ursa’s fiancé, a fresh graduate now working for her father, joins in the conversation, rolling his eyes as the women around him start giggling and making suppressed squealing noises at someone behind you. Before you turn around to see who it is, you feel a gentle squeeze on the waist.

“Ladies, my apologies, but I’d have to take my apprentice away,” he declares with a wink, and they swoon and blush behind their hands. “I hope you enjoy the night. Nellie?”

“Yes?”

Like you’re programmed to do, you look at Coriolanus with a cheerful smile and let him haul you off.

He tells you something you don’t quite catch. With the music now reaching its climax and the chatter getting livelier, it becomes hard to hear anyone, so you have no choice but to lean closer to him to make out what he’s saying. He takes this further and tugs you close to his chest by the waist. The proximity makes you inadvertently place a hand on the lapel of his waistcoat, while he whispers to the side of your face close to your ear, “I said I’m going to introduce you to Dr Volumnia Gaul.”

You peer to your side, to where he’s eyeing, and true enough, Dr Gaul herself was there, wearing a purple and gold brocade dress cascading to the floor and leather gloves to match, her straggly, greying hair adding to her distinct look. She’s chatting away with an animated Strabo Plinth holding a dainty drink in one hand and a beetle-shaped clutch in the other.

Even in something as completely innocent and normal as a birthday party, she still stands out against the crowd as a formidable presence.

She’s what you think Coriolanus is trying to be, except for the speaking-in-riddles-and-rhymes part. Wouldn’t it be funny, a snide voice in your head says, if Coriolanus one day just starts saying ‘hippity-hoppity?’

The thought is enough is cheer you up a little bit.

Volumnia Gaul’s mismatched eyes roam over the two of you as you near her spot.

“Dr Gaul, it’s a pleasure to see you tonight. I’m glad you could join us,” he says with a tip of his head. “I know we mustn’t talk of work, but I’m sure you’ll be happy to know I have secured myself the apprentice of my dreams.”

“Mr Snow, what delightful news you bring me,” she drawls toothily. “Oh my, oh my. Prunella Innis!”

Her unnerving gaze lands on you, her gloved fingers lifting your chin as if to get a better look.

Just smile, dammit.

“The apple of young Snow’s eye. I was wondering when we’d get to meet. Finally putting a pretty face to your name is such a treat!” She releases a pleased, throaty chuckle.

You try to keep your voice as steady as you can. “Pleasure to be of your acquaintance, Dr Gaul.”

The grin she has from ear to ear does not extend to her eyes. “Clever little girl, this. I can see why...” she trails off, then flicks an odd, knowing stare at your friend. “Keep your eagle eye on this one, Mr Snow; you wouldn’t want her flying away with her teensy-weensy wings...”

Seeing as this friendly, albeit bizarre banter isn’t in your list of programmed interactions, you settle for the automated smile, careful not to let it falter.

“Of course, Dr Gaul. I’m not planning on letting her go anytime soon,” he responds just as playfully.

Thankfully, the exchange ends there, as you’re both called by party ushers to your table where the Plinth couple are sitting. Odd sitting at the table for what seems to be family and close friends only, but you keep your thoughts to yourself while the ceremony begins. The night goes on with well-wishing speeches from the Plinth senior’s closest friends and colleagues. Then, the dinner courses are served right after an honorary toast for the celebrant. Everything brought to the table by the servers looks expensive and sumptuous – all a grand display of opulence that is the seemingly infinite Plinth fortune.

And yet you find yourself only able to nibble at the food, having your appetite diminished by the stress of interacting with so many people in just less than two hours.

“You’ve barely eaten anything,” Coriolanus’s voice floats from beside you. His eyes are laced with worry as he asks, “Can I get you anything you’d like?”

Plus, having to deal with him dragging you from one place to another.

You shake your head once and assure him you’re fine. You partake of the food a little more when the dessert course comes around, much to his approval.

“I’d hate to see my sugarplum getting sick,” he says as he watches you eat a tiny forkful of birthday cake.

This you ignore in favour of savouring the cake’s decadent caramel frosting and rich custard filling, balanced with an airy lemon-and-orange-flower chiffon base. You figure if you can’t have fun tonight, the least you can do is enjoy the cake.

With the food out the way, more booze comes flowing, and it isn’t long before the orchestra plays a lively tune, and the dance floor gets filled with delighted, slightly inebriated guests waltzing and tapping to the beat, and while Strabo doesn’t join in, he and Ma both look thrilled to see everyone in high spirits, before they’re pulled separately into light chit-chat by their friends.

If Sejanus was here now, you’d both be sulking together in a corner of the grand hall sharing what would’ve been your third slice of cake, arguing over who gets the side with more frosting.

You take advantage of this moment to extricate yourself from everyone – mostly Coriolanus and his imposing presence – and excuse yourself to the powder room. Locking yourself inside a bathroom stall, you let out a drawn-out exhale of absolute relief.

Alone, finally.

You gaze wistfully at the bathroom window to your left. It’s too high for your reach, but you figure you could use one of the large potted plants as a booster and get as far away from this place as you possibly can, even if you had to go on foot.

Groaning to yourself, you stew in the fact that this freedom of yours from your deviously charming companion is short-lived. He’d soon be wondering where you’d gone, and he’d likely tear the place down just so he could find you. You doubt he’d appreciate it if he hears that you’ve locked yourself in a bathroom stall plotting your escape.

The dancing is on full blast as you step back into the grand hall. You make yourself as inconspicuous as you can, strategically darting between people to reach the open bar. You choose a bar stool that conceals you from everyone in the room and order a drink on impulse. The bartender is kind enough to humour your request for an alcohol-free concoction, which he serves with maraschino cherries on a toothpick.

“Rough night?” he asks as he wipes a glass, smiling sympathetically at you. With his greying hair and the lines on the corner of his eyes, he seems to be wearier than you are, probably from having to be at the beck and call of thirsty, snotty Capitol High Society all night.

“Very,” you sigh. “I hope it isn’t as rough as yours.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” he shakes his head with a chortle. “I had a lady just a few clicks ago demand I make the same drink four times because she wanted a Cosmo without the cranberry juice and the lime. Coulda just ordered a shot of vodka and Cointreau, but what do I know...”

You let out a suppressed, dry laugh. “I’m sorry you to had deal with that. Thanks for the drink, it’s delicious.”

“Eh. It’s nothin',’” he shrugs. A server enters behind the bar and whispers something to him, and he promptly takes his apron off and exits, but not before bidding you a good night. He is replaced by someone younger and more stern-looking, who resumes the abandoned task of wiping the other glasses.

Just as you’re about to bite a cherry off the toothpick, a sudden waft of roses floats in your vicinity, followed by a cold hand on your lower back and an airy baritone whisper over your ear.

“I was afraid you had walked out on me.”

Coriolanus Snow’s lopsided grin is inches away from your face as he leans against the counter beside you, his eyes eventually landing on the drink you’re still halfway through finishing.

“Hmm. What would my sugarplum be drinking liquid courage for?”

You shake your head. “This is alcohol-free.”

“Good.” He straightens his posture to full height and, bending to a stiff, formal bow, he extends a hand and asks, “Prunella Innis, may I please have the honour of this dance?”

You hesitate, but knowing that every move you make is now under public scrutiny, saying no and leaving him out to dry isn’t an option.

He sweeps you away to the dance floor as soon as your fingers touch his.

With the orchestra blaring their lovely rendition of Strauss II’s Voices of Spring, you both begin swaying lightly as you place your palms on his shoulder while his hands encase both sides of your waist.

Coriolanus beams down on you as his cobalt eyes search your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice mixed with a tiny tinge of concern. “I really hope I haven’t overwhelmed you, I know you never liked these kinds of parties.”

Your lips thin to a wry smile. “It’s a change of scenery, alright,” you admit. “What about you? You look like you’re having the time of your life.”

His eyes twinkle as he lets out a throaty chuckle. “That’s only because I brought good company with me.”

“Really? I thought this was your whole scene.”

“Well, if you keep going with me to the next ones, it might just be.”

His air of mischief continues even as the music ends and you join in applauding the musicians. When he doesn’t make a move to cart you off the dance floor, that’s when you figure out he isn’t done dancing with you just yet.

The orchestra begins their rendition of the Snowstorm waltz, so you both exchange a curtsy, as is the norm. With his hand clasping yours and his other hand on your waist, you begin to dance, spinning and waltzing to the beat. You’re aware you shouldn’t be making a big deal out of something as trivial as a dance, but you’re still unable to meet his eyes, afraid of what you might find. You settle for staring at his tux collar and concentrating on your footwork.

Thank goodness those etiquette classes in your early teens are proving to be worth your uncle’s money.

Soon enough, your surroundings become a blur, and all you can see is him, beaming down at you as you dip, then pulling you flush to his chest so he can spin with you some more. His gaze is heavy, feverish, never leaving your face. You see a split-second flash of the entire hall, which throws you further into a daze, discovering that eyes are trained on you both and most of the dancers have vacated the floor to give you room. The heady smell of roses, courtesy of the one pinned to his lapel, blurs your sense of reality, and you beg, you pray, that you don’t hurl what little food you ate and make a fool out of yourself. He angles his head in time to another dip and he whispers to ear in a low voice.

“You’re so intoxicatingly beautiful.”

Then he pulls you close again, your foreheads almost touching as he drinks all of you in with those half-lidded blue eyes. A few more trots on the floor and the waltz ends, and you curtsy as he bows, trying not to show just how lightheaded you are and how shallow your breathing is despite the dance itself being undemanding. The animated applause that follows echoes in the hall, and you join in mechanically.

Guests come milling in pairs to fill the dance floor once more just as the next waltz plays. Coriolanus entwines his fingers with yours.

“Come with me,” he says vaguely, and you both manoeuvre your way through the dancers and ignore some of the whispering and the staring that follows you as you exit the grand hall through the several ceiling-to-ceiling doors made of glass panels. He leads you down to the marble staircase and into the hotel’s expansive inner gardens.

“I figured you needed the fresh air,” he says as soon as you both reach a wall beside a well-manicured hedge, away from leering eyes and all the gossiping.

Your posture sags against the stone wall, letting out an exhausted exhale. “Thank you,” you say.

He just watches you wordlessly, his hands behind his back, as you compose yourself. When your head clears, you become aware that you’ve strayed a tad too far from the grand hall and are a little too alone with him than you’d prefer. Eventually, you straighten, your decision to go back to the party already made.

But Coriolanus is on you the moment you do.

“I want to show you something,” he says.

He gives you no time to complain, and he all but drags you by the arm further into a dimmer section of the garden, where you can barely hear the music and the chatter from the grand hall. A few more steps and you reach a large stone greenhouse covered wall-to-wall in creeping wisteria. Surprisingly, it’s unlocked, so he easily pushes the opaque glass door open and ushers you in first, with him following closely behind.

“The roses are to your far right.”

You hear the door’s dull click as it closes.

You shouldn’t be here, you think. But you get to the edge of the greenhouse, anyway, where the nearly overwhelming odour of a mishmash of different types of roses invades your nostrils. Despite the very little light coming through the opaque glass panels of the enclosure, you see the flowers sprawled in between a narrow path leading to the back of the building. Just more stone and glass panels, no doors.

No exits. No escape.

Your heart leaps to your throat when you feel a warm breath tickle the back of your neck and a pair of arms snake around your form. Tensing up in an instant, your breath hitches when that warmth reaches your ear.

Coriolanus’s deep, hushed tone sends shivers down your spine.

“I’ve been dying to have you all to myself the moment you stepped out of that car.”

In the blink of an eye, he turns you around and captures your lips with his.

It takes a while for you to realise what he’s doing, so he takes advantage of your momentary unresponsiveness and slips his tongue inside your mouth. As he’s moving his tongue all over yours, your back hits a hard surface. He’s pinned you against the stone wall, his body hunched over as he presses himself on yours, giving you no space to slip through or to push him away. His hand wraps around the side of your head to change the angle, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Coriolanus Snow is kissing you, passionately and possessively, and he kisses like he’s running out of breath and you’re his only source of air.

And all you could do in your state of denial, paralysis, and fear is to close your eyes and wish he was Sejanus instead.

When he shifts his angle, you tilt your head to the side so you can catch your breath. Perhaps he sees this as an act of defiance, for he cups both your cheeks with a growl, making you face him, and goes back to kissing you just as fiercely as before. This time, you instinctively keep your lips shut, but a light nip of his teeth leaves you gasping in surprise, enabling him to tangle both your tongues.

Your hands manage to wedge between your bodies, so you push him away with all the strength you have. As he reluctantly pulls away, he has the gall to look affronted, but you could’ve slapped him, too, or clawed his eyes out for putting you in such a vulnerable position; only reason prevents you from lashing out.

“I’m sorry, sugarplum. I’ve had quite the drink tonight,” he whispers breathlessly, resting his forehead on your temple.

Liar. You can barely smell anything alcohol-related on him; just the sickening scent of the flowers he’s partial to. This is all just a part of the game to him, to make you feel isolated and powerless against him. A play for power and control, and one he’s currently winning.

“We should go, Coryo.” You hate how close to begging your voice sounds. “Please, it’s a school day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.”

Fuck.

Of all the excuses, that’s what you come up with?

He begins planting butterfly kisses on your temple and your cheek.

“Not for my uncle,” you scramble to correct yourself. “He often has Saturday classes and I sometimes help.”

“Skip it. You’re my apprentice now. Mine,” he says sternly. He seems to immediately amend his tone by asking, “I mean, doesn’t he have interns for that?”

Damn it.

“Yes, he does.”

You could feel him smirk against your cheek, seemingly counting this as a win. With you still effectively trapped in between the wall and his unrelenting embrace, he takes your chin with his forefinger and thumb to make you face him and latches his lips on yours.

His hand finds its way to your back, brushing against the groove of your spine. He then grips the back of your neck and turns your head to the side, allowing him to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, before moving down to the column of your neck.

You cave in and beg as soon as you feel his tongue on your skin.

“Coryo, please...please stop...”

It comes out as a broken whimper, making you hate yourself even more. The dread you felt when you opened his gift, the way you had to put on a mask that you hate for people you don’t care for, the way you had to pretend to him that you don’t despise how he kept making you feel so exposed and defenceless the entire night – everything you’ve been bottling up since this morning seemed to come spilling into that plea, rendering you to feel even more helpless and alone. It takes every ounce of self-control in you not to burst into tears.

You’re not supposed to act this pathetically in front of him, but here you are.

His grip on you grows slack and he draws his head back to observe you, his jaw clenched in disapproval. You don’t care; you try to wriggle away from him, your bodies still too close for your liking. You still refuse to meet his eyes, because if you do, he might see right through your crumbling facade.

He sighs and takes a full step backwards, finally giving you space to breathe in relief.

He still finds the nerve to let out a restrained chuckle. “I’m sorry, I let my emotions get the better of me. You’re right; this is neither the time nor the place.”

Neither the time nor the place. Does that mean he’ll do it again? At this point, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Can we go back? Please?”

He takes your hand in his with a nod. Stepping outside the greenhouse, you both stop in your tracks as you spot another couple nearby, seemingly trying to stay hidden in the bushes and in the middle of making out. It’s Ursa and her fiancé. They both pull away from each other and Ursa waves at you spiritedly while her partner looks away in embarrassment. She then drags him by the arm to the now-vacant greenhouse, both of them bursting into a giddy laughing fit.

Coriolanus just smirks at the sight. With him refusing to let your hand go, you continue your trek back to the grand hall, where the party is still in full swing, and the guests are still drinking and dancing the night away.

Your feet are sore, your lips are numb, and your soul is drained.

Yet you still put on a good final show until the party ends as if nothing happened. By eleven thirty, Mr and Ma Plinth instruct Coriolanus to call it a night and get some rest, but not before he escorts you home. Like the dutiful Plinth heir he is, he gladly obliges, and that’s how you wind up with the same car ride as he, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it through with a butter knife.

Coriolanus breaks the silence.

“I will have a car escort you from your home the Citadel starting Monday,” he says matter-of-factly. “As per Dr Gaul’s instructions, you will be excused from any summer class you’ve enrolled in.”

“But I took those classes for extra credit,” you protest mildly.

He encases your hand on your lap. “You will be granted full credits for all of them if we succeed. This is, after all, for the cause, not only of the Citadel nor of the Capitol, but of all of Panem.

“This Monday, sugarplum, is the dawn of a new era.”

You refuse point-blank to look at him or even acknowledge the comment, but judging by the excitement in his tone, despite everything he’s forced you to do this night, you already know he’s smiling and extremely pleased with himself.

After long agonising minutes, the car pulls up before the Corso III lobby entrance, so you bid him good night, which he returns with a swift peck on your cheek. You don’t even look back at the car once you get out; you run straight to the elevator, lock your apartment door and head to the safety of your bedroom.

Your first of two tasks as soon as you lock the door is to rid yourself of everything that reminds you of that accursed party – the dress, the shoes, the clutch, the necklace – and chuck them all into a corner where you hope you’d never see them again. You have a half-mind to shower to get rid of his smell on you, but you’re so tired to the bone you move on to the second and last task of the night:

Curl up in your blankets and cry your heart out.

Enter Level 7

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!

Next Level will include a portion of the ball in Snowball's POV!! I wanted it to be here but then it'll get too long so...🫣 also reader is going to have to work this incoming Monday lol and more sympathetic I cannot be, esp with Snowball observing 😛

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

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silentwillowwhisperer · 9 months

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*sparkle*

Hi, yep, I'm alive (maybe.)

Here we have cute flower shop Lance and Keith who is very bad at peopleing.

----------------------------------------

Keith slams the door of the nearest shop open and dashes inside. He bends over and grips his knees, panting. His drenched clothes are making a large puddle at his feet.

"Um... Can I help you?"

Keith looks up and surveys his surroundings. There are various plants of all shapes and sizes on every available surface, and brightly colored flowers pierce Keith's vision. His eyes trail all the way to the far end of the room until they meet iridescent blue.

"Are you ok? You look like you've been running from a herd of angry purple alien cats armed with guns."

Keith has to snort at that. It sounds like the plot of a cartoon made for 7-year-olds. (Which is exactly the sort of thing he likes to watch, but can we just let him pretend to be cool?)

The guy has golden brown skin and a splash of freckles across his cheeks. He has a couple inches on Keith and broad shoulders. The corner of his mouth is quirked up into a little smile, and oh my goodness, Keith really hopes that this guy is at least a little bit gay. (That would definitely make his day go from 'horrible freaking disaster' to 'wonderful freaking disaster.)

This is Shiro's fault. It's that dumb, skunk-haired jerk's fault that Keith is standing sopping wet and making eye contact with an unbelievably cute guy in the middle of a flower shop.

Keith had been sleeping peacefully when Shiro called him at 3am (you read that right, Shiro is a monster) to remind him to take medication. Keith could appreciate this gesture when it wasn't the witching hour, but it was and then Keith was awake, and yeah he hid take the medicine, and because insomnia exists, Keith gave up on sleep and decided to go for a very early run.

Keith can't be blamed for forgetting to check the weather forecast, it was early and he couldn't think about anything but coffee.

And that's why Keith decided to walk the 5 miles from his shack in the middle of nowhere to the nearest town to find a Starbucks.

And that's also why he had to run the last 3 miles because the sky opened up and god decided to have a good cry all over Keith and his favorite sweatshirt.

Yep, completely, 100% Shiro's fault.

Wait. Keith has been staring at the flower boy for too long hasn't he? He can tell from the furrow in his perfectly shaped eyebrows that Keith is not following social conduct right now.

"Right. Sorry. Raining. Water. It's wet." Keith is forcing out words and desperately hoping something he says actually makes sense.

The cute guy laughs. (hallelujah!) "Yes, I can see that. Would you like a towel?" All Keith can do is nod stupidly, terrified of saying something else and having Shimmery-Eye-Dude realize that Keith is about to pass out from social anxiety.

He walks up to the cash register to accept the towel being held out to him. As soon as he does, Dreamy Man smirks and leans up against the counter so that his wonderful face is only inches away from Keith's.

Is it safe to assume that Mr. Ocean Eyes is into guys?

Is this a thing that platonic male companions do when greeting each other??

Is Keith being initiated as a 'bro???'

Why is Keith allowed to leave home on his own???? He should never be allowed into a public area without someone to supervise him!

"I-I- um... h-hi?" Oh look, Keith's stutter is here to say hello.

Tall-Mocha-and-Handsome barks out a laugh. (Wow, Keith would really love a cup of coffee right now.) "Hi there. You come here often?"

Wait. Wait! Keith knows this! Shiro explained this to him last week! Flirting! Keith might have a chance after all!

"I- I've never been here inside of this place and if you mean have I been in front of your face before, no I don't think so because your eyes are kind of sparkling very loudly right now and I don't think I would have forgotten that even though I'm face bland and who are you because you might be flirting with me right now and I really hope so because your face is pretty and hi I'm Keith I'm gay."

Keith has to gasp in a breath of air after the word mush that just erupted from his traitorous face hole. Flirty-Person stares at his face in shock as he tries to process the words that have been shoved at him.

After what feels like an eternity, Please-Marry-Keith's mouth returns to its position in a crooked half-smile and his brow furrows slightly. Keith can't tell if this face means confused pity/teasing or endearment.

"O...k then. You're blunt, aren't you?"

Keith has used up his capacity for language-speaking, so all he can do is flush bright red and try to hide his face in the hood of his sweatshirt.

"Welp, I can work with that. Keith, is it? I'm glad you're not homophobic, you we're staring at me so long that I was worried that you were about to start spouting some nonsense about crimes to humanity. I'm Lance, and are you from outer space? Because your body is out of this world!"

Stop. No. There is no way that Lance (yay, finally, a name! Keith was about to start calling him Sokka.) is a dork. Because Keith's weak heart will actually die. Oop, too late, he's already dead. Deceased. He has officially kicked. the. bucket.

He can't help but dissolve in to giggles. He so caught of guard by the pick-up line that he has to brace himself against the counter to keep from collapsing onto the ground. He rests his forehead on the smooth marble surface and desperately tries to stop choking on his laughter.

"Awww, what? That was my best line!" Keith looks up at Lance's face to see him smiling fondly at him. At least he hopes that's what it is. It there still a chance that Lance is fake smiling to hide the fact that he's calling the police?

Keith finds himself smiling back.

(Two days later they have their first date at the park, Lance prepares a giant picnic and Keith has never been more excited.)

(Shiro never lets Keith hear the end of this.)

-------------------------------------------------------

I think that was an acceptable ending. Alright, now no one wake me up until I've had at least 10 hours of sleep or I might cry. (That means you @gavemebluethenpurplepinkskies, are you happy now?)

#vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #keith vld #vld keith #lance vld #shiro vld #flower shop shenanigans #awkward keith #tawny post

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ciceroprofacto · 1 year

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Okay- as to the possibility of John Laurens meeting Peter Lavien, this is super messy and it’s impossible to prove without a primary source explicitly stating that they interacted, but I can put the timeline together for you that explains how they would’ve been in the same area at the same time.

The summary is this:

- Sometime between 1764 and 1766, Peter Lavien settled in Beaufort, SC, and became a partner with Captain Samuel Grove, running his shop in downtown Beaufort along with an apprentice/clerk named John Kean. They became one of the most successful import/export houses in the area during an indigo boom.

- When the Revolution started stirring up trade restrictions, Lavien took to smuggling and, in 1776, he had a ship detained in Savannah with its cargo. He appealed to the South Carolina Council of Safety which was chaired by Henry Laurens at the time. His son in law, John Charles Lucena, had connections to a merchant in Savannah that was able to vouch for his ship and get it released.

- In 1777, Peter Lavien moved his family to Savannah for business and to avoid patches of violence that broke out around the lowcountry. He left his properties in Beaufort to be managed by John Kean in his absence.

- Fast forward to 1779, Laurens joined up with the southern army at Tillifiny Hill in May and volunteered to escort General Moultrie’s rear guard across the Coosawatchie River. He engaged the enemy in an ill-advised assault and was routed back across the river. If you’re interested in the archeological effort to pinpoint the exact location of the engagement.

- The nearest major town was Beaufort, about 15 miles away where John Kean was incidentally still located, serving as deputy paymaster of the South Carolina Militia.

- Peter Lavien’s name would’ve been well-known in the area and his move to Savannah would’ve been common local knowledge. Laurens would have likely interacted with John Kean at some point while commanding a militia battalion, and it’s possible that Kean would have known that Lavien was Hamilton’s older brother if Lavien ever spoke about it to him. So, there’s a possibility that Laurens learned Kean’s former-employer’s relationship to Alexander Hamilton and knew that he’d moved to Savannah.

- Whether Laurens made the effort or had the time to seek Peter Lavien out while he was in the vicinity of Savannah that autumn is entirely speculation. But, we do know that Lavien left a small sum of money to his brothers in his will before he died just a year later.

Extended timeline details and sources under the cut.

These points are all from: 1. Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton 2. Greg Massey’s John Laurens and the American Revolution 3. Rowland, Moore, and Rogers’ History of Beaufort County V.1

“In 1745, the ill-fated wedding [between Rachel Faucette and Johann Lavien took place at the Grange. The newlyweds set up house on their own modest plantation, which was named, with macabre irony, Contentment. The following year, the teenage bride gave birth to a son, Peter, destined to be her one legitimate child.” (1. pg 11)

In 1750, Johann Michael Lavien, Peter’s father, had Rachel imprisoned for adultery and no longer residing with him. She was sent to Christiansvaern, the local fort and imprisoned for 3-5 months. She left Christensted when she got out, leaving Johann and Peter behind and going to St. Kitts where she started living with James Hamilton. (1. pg 11-12)

On February 26, 1759, Johann Lavien sent Rachel an official divorce summons for absenting herself which she attended and they were officially divorced on June 25th. Johann was allowed to remarry and Rachel strictly prohibited, denying her any of the property he’d mostly gained in marrying her, and preventing her “whore-children” from getting any in the event of his death. Peter would’ve been 13, James 6, and Alexander either 2 or 4. (1. pg 20)

Early 1760s, Johann and Peter moved to Frederiksted on the far side of St Croix. (1. pg 21)

April 1765, James Hamilton, Rachel and their kids moved to Christiansted where James was working as a clerk for Archibald Ingram of St Kitts, the son of a Glasgow “tobacco lord”- a family connection, tasked to collect a debt from a man named Alexander Moir. The case lasted until January 1766, then James pulled anchor and disappeared around Alex’s 11th birthday. (1. pg 21)

Between 1764 and 1766, Peter settled in Beaufort, SC, and became the shop manager of a store owned by Captain Samuel Grove in Beaufort bay on Tradd Street selling rum, sugar, chocolate, coffee, tea, and wine, all imported on his schooner Hannah and Betsy. John Kean was his apprentice. (3. pg 244)

“November 1769...Peter returned to St Croix to take possession of his small inheritance- an injustice that rankled Alexander for many years. Peter had fared sufficiently well in Beaufort, South Carolina- named a church warden- the chief financial and administrative officer- in St Helena’s Parish the previous year, yet he couldn’t spare a penny for the two destitute half brothers orphaned by his mothers death.” (1. pg 25)

Early 1770s, Peter Lavien and Samuel Grove were considered the largest indigo shippers in the Beaufort District. The Revolution disrupted the firm’s trade and Samuel Grove died at sea in 1775. (3. pg 244)

On 30 January 1776, one of Peter Lavien’s partner ships the William was detained in Savannah for smuggling. Lavien appealed to the South Carolina Council of Safety (chaired by Henry Laurens) to release the brigantine with 122 casks of indigo and 100 barrels of rice on board. The Council of Safety refused and ordered the cargo detained in Beaufort. On February 1, 1776, Quinton Pooler, a Savannah merchant who Peter’s son-in-law, John Charles Lucena had connections to, claimed the cargo belonged to him, and the captain of the William produced authorization for departure from the Georgia Council of Safety. The vessel sailed and a frustrated Henry Laurens, obviously not convinced, warned the Georgia council that they should “obey the laws of Congress”. (3. pg 206-207)

“Family business connections, and political hostility, forced Lavien to move to Savannah in 1777. There he lived with his daughter Joanna, and his son-in-law, John Charles Lucena, until his death in 1781.” (3. pg 244)

“Lavien left his Beaufort property in the hands of his former partner’s stepson, John Kean, who was a consistent patriot and a member of Beaufort’s local committee. Lavien’s will divided his large estate between the Lucenas of Savannah and John Kean of Beaufort. The Lucenas remained loyal to the crown, and most of their Georgia property was confiscated; Kean served as deputy paymaster of the South Carolina militia, along with John Mark Verdier. Both served under Daniel DeSaussure, who was paymaster general of the South Carolina Militia. (3. pg 244)

May 1, 1779- Laurens arrived in General Moultrie’s camp at Tullifiny Hill. On May 3rd, he volunteered to take 250 militia troops to escort Moultrie’s rear guard back to the army at Tullifiny Hill and instead tried to lead an assault across the Coosawhatchie River, failing and risking about a third of Moultrie’s force. (2. pg 135)

#Peter Lavien #Laurens in the lowcountry #< that'll be a new tag #timeline #Historical Hamilton #I don't have the energy to format this better #just putting the thought out there

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petri808 · 2 years

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

For my tumblr bestie @random-rave early birthday gift 🎁

@thenaluarchive Nalu Week 7-part story

“So, you and Gray will be heading back home to Cali for the summer?” Lucy questioned her friend Natsu. The University of Hawaii at Hilo just finished their spring semester, and all the dormies needed to vacate soon.

“Yeah, our lease is up at the end of the month.”

Lucy pursed her lips briefly. “In that case, I was wondering if you guys would like to come with Levy and I to my family’s beach house in Waikoloa?” She questioned. It had become their tradition to go after school finished for two weeks. “We’ll be back before you leave.”

“I’ll check with Gray, but I think he’ll say okay. So, just the four of us?”

“Yup. Gajeel,” Levy’s longtime boyfriend, “has to work so he can’t come.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

One week later, the four friends piled into Lucy’s Toyota 4Runner and headed out to Waikoloa. The quickest route was a 1-1/2 hour drive on the Daniel K. Inouye highway. A scenic route that cut between two of the island’s volcanoes, Mauna (mountain) Kea and Mauna Loa. Flanked by ancient ohia forests and lava flows on the eastern side, and miles of open fields on the west. You can even see rising across the ocean, mount Haleakala on the island of Maui on a clear day.

They arrived in Waikoloa’s Anaeho’omalu area nestled along the azure blue Pacific Ocean. A developed piece of land surrounded by crumbling ancient lava flows and sparse grass lands— a very dry environment. Here hotels like the Hilton and Marriott had built along side condos like the one Lucy’s family owned.

“Very nice,” Natsu remarked as he got out of the vehicle. “How much does a place like this cost?”

“I’m not sure,” Lucy responded. “All I know is they bought this place a couple years after I was born.” Her mom had heard about it’s sale while working at her realty company.

He chuckled, “so, out of our price range, got it.”

“Yeah,” she giggled too.

Lucy lead the group into the home and parceled out the rooms. It was a three bedroom condo, so she and Levy got one room each while the two boys had to share one. But they were fairly large and comfortable, plus Natsu and Gray were already used to sharing a dorm. Then after a quick tour of the place, they head out for supplies at the nearest store.

Foodland farms market was located in a shopping center a few miles away near the Mauna Lani resort. Since this was the boys first time there, the group walked around the shopping center, window shopping really. It was just a mix of clothing stores and restaurants.

“Can you believe there used to be a 4-D theater here?” Lucy explained. “They only played really short films, but it was the first time I experienced 4-D.”

“Yeah I saw a scene from that movie Journey to the Center of the Earth here,” Levy added. “That scene where they’re on the boat and flying fish we’re jumping all over, they spritzed us with water!”

Everyone laughed.

“At least you got to try a 4-D, I haven’t seen one yet,” Natsu griped.

“Well one day while here, we can check out the luxury cinemas at Queen’s marketplace.” Lucy offered Natsu with a light blush to her cheeks. “I haven’t been there yet.”

“Like a date? I’m game,” he teased pulling a deeper flush from Lucy.

“When you two are done flirting, meet us at the market,” Levy teased before pulling Gray away from the now flustered pair.

After a couple seconds, Natsu and Lucy gained their composure and followed. The group shopped for food to last a few days along with drinks and snacks. It was a decent haul leaving them with arms full of groceries.

On the way back to the car, Natsu stopped Lucy briefly. “I just wanted to say thanks again for inviting us. I think this is gonna be the best vacation I ever had.”

“Aww,” Lucy blushed, “I think so too.”

#nalu #nalu week 2022 #simply nalu 2022 #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fic #nalu fanfiction #part 1

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merrillsafricabikeadventure · 1 year

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I am embarking on yet another bicycle adventure as I continue celebrating my “major milestone” birthday year. Hey, I figure that I’m only young once and might as well do these things while I’m able to. My ever-suffering spouse tolerates these adventures with a smile. The plan is to cycle from Livingstone, Zambia (north side of Victoria Falls) thru Zambia, Botswana, and Namibia to Cape Town, South Africa. The total distance is approximately 2000 miles with 53,000 ft of elevation gain. There are 25 days of riding with 5 rest days. I’m going with a Toronto-based commercial bike tour company called TDA Global Cycling. They specialize in epic adventure rides and are the company that lead my rides across India a few years ago and South America in October 2022. I’m riding only the last third of the tour but many others in the group started in January in Cairo and have already pedaled 4000 miles. This tour is classified as a “fully supported” ride which means they plan the routes, carry all my luggage, prepare 3 meals a day, and provide support on the roads. We will be camping the entire time. I hope those lions are not hungry. I’ve brought along my heavy steel Surly gravel bike- it’s basic and easy to fix when the nearest bike shop could be hundreds of miles away. Approximately 25% of the route will not be paved- I’m hoping that it’s gravel and not sand but the pictures I’ve seen of Namibia show endless sand dunes 😬.

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barbwireandblood · 2 years

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Wanted Plots List

a long list because i’m a whore

i’m cutting it because i’m adding more and don’t need this to be a mile long

1. Racers; inspired by the Fast Franchise

Muse A finds themselves working, or stuck at an auto shop. Muse B is the owner of said shop and does their best to take care of Muse A, essentially taking them under their wing, showing them the car scene, including some of the illegal underground. Cue struggling with understanding the appeal/or just fluffy building and enjoying cars with each other if you’re into cars.

2. Forbidden Royal Love; inspired by every period piece i’ve ever seen

Muse A has become Ruler after their father’s passing. They’ve been doing a great job, but now they’re being expected to find a spouse. All the suitors either want the power or are just bad people. Out of options Muse A turns to Muse B, their childhood friend and personal guard. The both of them had always been very close until Muse B had to leave for training to become Muse A’s protector. When they reunited they both silently realized they had feelings, but put them aside to do the jobs expected of them. Insert angst and feelings as they try to help each other without revealing their feelings for the other, and run an entire kingdom.

3. A literal Hallmark Movie plot i’m sure; yeah i hate that i like them too sue me

Muse A is a city loving workaholic, on vacation somewhere rural. Their car breaks down right alongside a small farm. Muse B, the farmer in question offers help, but it’s getting dark and he doesn’t have the part needed. Muse A spends the night, taking Muse B’s bed at their insistence. After some breakfast and hospitality Muse B calls a friend to have Muse B’s car looked at. They go on a sort of date showing Muse A the small town life. After finding out the part the car needs will have to be special ordered and Muse A is stuck in town, Muse B offers to let them stay with them since the nearest hotels is several towns over. Blah blah blah Muse A falls in love with the small town life and Muse B, happily ever after.

4. Bounty Hunters; very loosely inspired by the epilogue to the best video game and best character from Red Dead Redemption 2

Muse A goes after a usual, easy bounty, and just before striking a shot from nowhere disables the bounty and they collect them and takes off. As they ride away another bounty hunter, Muse B, rides up and argues Muse A stole their bounty since they fired the shot. After a lengthy argument they begrudgingly agree to split the bounty money. They earn respect for each other after successfully fending off others trying to poach their money. They then split the money and go their separate ways, only to run into each other going after other bountys later, or while turning them in. A rivalry ensues and slowly turns to a romance. also maybe they team up to take down a big bounty or save someone

5. Fighters Flaw

Muse A is in debt to, or part of a mob. They meet Muse B, an underground fighter, owned by the mob. Muse A helps Muse B after a particularly bad fight, cleaning blood off them patching them up. Muse A proceeds to check on them every once in awhile, making sure they’re ok. Muse B invites them to another fight of theirs, Muse A only agrees to make sure they don’t get too hurt. They begin to see each other more, and Muse B starts winning more fights specifically to make Muse A feel better.

6. Teachers Favorite

Muse A is a single parent, struggling to give their kid a good life. Muse B is their child’s teacher, and after a parent teacher meeting feels bad for Muse A and tries to help where they can. They begin to see each other around town, and eventually begin to hang out more. Conflict arises as they both develop feelings, but since Muse A teaches Muse B’s child they can’t have a relationship.

7. Idk what to call it but it’s scifi

Muse A has just joined a space freight company (as a way to get off their home world or away from trouble) where they meet Muse B, one of the section leaders of the company’s flagship freighter. After going through the orientation and being assigned to Muse B’s crew they learn how hard the job can be. After some light hazing by their fellow crew members Muse A meets much more of the ships crew teams, where Muse B steps in to shut down them hazing A too much. A and B begin talking more and more when not working and getting closer. When they finally make planetfall Muse A must decide if they want to jump ship and start a new life like they wanted or stay with the ship and Muse B

8. A porno plot but make it romance

Muse A is a 20something in need of a little extra money. Muse B is a little older with a young child and an office job. B hires A to babysit on days when they can’t be home or focus on their child. A can tell how much B cares for their child and they grow closer over time. A bonds with the child to the point they’re like a second parent to them, and B takes notice. Sometimes B asks A to come over even when they aren’t needed. Eventually one works up the courage to ask the other out.

a few nsfw ones no longer under a cut

9. In Too Deep

Muse A, a witch/succubus takes home Muse B hoping to get what they need quickly and leave, but Muse B gives them a lot more than they expected and Muse A finds themselves wanting to stay longer.

10. Professionally Unprofessional

Two stars of a certain adult entertainment meet at a shoot, and they both enjoy each other’s presence, and much more later. They begin to hang out and eventually date. Cue pangs of jealousy when they work with other performers, and frustrated, possessive nights after, and maybe making they’re own videos on a website for fans…

11. True Disciple

Muse A is a deity of some manner, and they provide a vision to Muse B, a warrior, that ends up saving their life and several others. Muse B then dedicates their life to building a temple to Muse A and does everything they can to bring them to their world. Once successful, they offer every part of them to Muse A to do whatever they wish with.

12. A Royal Respite

Muse A is the Ruler of a kingdom, they serve alone but with several advisors. Muse B is their most trusted advisor, but because they are not royalty they can’t have a relationship. They meet in secret to, discuss strategy… They must keep their relationship secret to keep peace, but they find it harder as their needs become more and more intense.

#ooc #anyways if any of these interest you don’t be afraid to dm me #these are constantly bouncing around my head #also i’d prefer to play muse B #plot bunny #rp meme #meme idea #rp idea #rp ideas #wanted #wanted plot #wanted plots #indie rp #indie starter #indie smut rp #indie smut starter #indie smut

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wmrecoveryservice · 2 months

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The Lifesaver on Wheels: Understanding 24-Hour Roadside Assistance

In the hustle and bustle of today's world, where time is of the essence, and schedules are often packed to the brim, unexpected car troubles can throw a wrench into our plans. Whether it's a flat tire on a deserted road in the dead of night or a dead battery during rush hour, these unforeseen situations can quickly turn stressful and inconvenient. This is where 24-hour roadside assistance steps in as the unsung hero of the modern-day road trip, offering a safety net when you need it the most.

What exactly is 24-hour roadside assistance? Simply put, it's like having a guardian angel on standby for your vehicle, ready to come to your aid whenever you encounter trouble. From mechanical breakdowns to minor mishaps, these services are designed to provide drivers immediate assistance and peace of mind 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.

So, what can you expect from a typical 24-hour roadside assistance service? Let's break it down:

1. Towing:

If your vehicle cannot be repaired on-site, roadside assistance providers will arrange for your car to be towed to the nearest repair facility or your preferred location. This can be a lifesaver if you find yourself stranded in an unfamiliar area or facing a major mechanical issue.

2. Battery Jumpstart or Replacement:

Dead battery? No problem. Roadside assistance technicians can jumpstart your vehicle to quickly get you back on the road. And if your battery is beyond repair, they can often provide a replacement on the spot.

3. Flat Tire Assistance:

Whether you've run over a nail or hit a pothole, a flat tire can damage your journey. 24-hour roadside assistance services can help you change a flat tire or provide a temporary fix to get you to the nearest tire shop.

4. Lockout Service:

Accidentally locked your keys inside your car? Don't fret. Roadside assistance professionals have the tools and expertise to safely unlock your vehicle without causing any damage.

5. Fuel Delivery:

Running out of gas is every driver's nightmare, especially when you're miles away from the nearest gas station. Roadside assistance can deliver enough fuel to get you to the next stop, saving you from a long walk or costly tow.

6. Emergency Repairs:

From minor mechanical issues to more serious problems, roadside assistance technicians are trained to handle various roadside emergencies. Whether it's a faulty alternator or a malfunctioning starter, they'll do their best to get you back on the road as quickly as possible.

But the most valuable aspect of 24-hour roadside assistance is the peace of mind it provides. Knowing that help is just a phone call away can turn a potentially stressful situation into a minor inconvenience. Whether embarking on a cross-country road trip or simply commuting to work, having roadside assistance coverage can give you the confidence to tackle the open road easily.

In addition to its convenience and peace of mind, 24-hour roadside assistance also often comes with additional benefits such as trip interruption coverage, rental car assistance, and discounts on travel services. These perks can further enhance the value of your roadside assistance plan, making it a smart investment for any driver.

In conclusion

24-hour roadside assistance is not just a luxury for drivers—it's a necessity. Its array of services and round-the-clock availability serve as a lifeline for motorists everywhere, ensuring that help is never far away in times of need. So, the next time you hit the road, remember to buckle up, drive safely, and keep your 24-hour roadside assistance provider's number handy. After all, you never know when you might need a helping hand on wheels.

#24-hour roadside assistance

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cascadetrainingsolutions · 7 months

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5 Essential Skills for Rural Doctors and Nurses

Being a rural doctor or nurse is a far cry from practicing medicine in a large city. There are fewer resources available, fewer medical practitioners, and the general way of life is different too. That means you will need to have a different skill set than the average healthcare professional. You may not be working in an emergency setting, but having an ACLS course under your belt is still a very good idea. After all, you will need to be flexible in many scenarios. For example, house calls may make up a good portion of your job. Here are some of the skills you will need when practicing medicine in a rural area.

Being Thorough Doctors working in a more urban environment already need to be thorough, but it’s even more essential in a rural setting. You need to offer the highest quality of care, cutting no corners, even if you have limited resources. It’s much harder in rural areas when a patient’s symptoms are misdiagnosed. That’s because getting access to specialized care is harder when the nearest city is many miles away. But being thorough also means offering extra kindness to your patients. Keep in mind, the patients you treat are also your neighbors. A Wide Variety of Skills You will need to have a wide variety of skills as a rural doctor or nurse. Patients need to be confident that you have the ability to treat any health condition they may be experiencing. If they feel you are confident in your skills, they are going to be more forthcoming about any health concerns they have. You may not have thought you would need to take a PALS course, but you might end up treating kids and babies despite not being a pediatrician. Your healthcare center might be a one-stop shop for all the community’s medical needs. Flexibility You will need to have flexibility, especially given a likely lack of healthcare options in close proximity. Patients may have little or no insurance and may work from sunrise to sunset most days. You might need to offer weekend appointments or offer house calls. You will need to be diligent when it comes to follow-up appointments or post-op instructions. Understanding Personal Boundaries In a small town, you may be the go-to healthcare provider for everyone in the community. You will see them around town and at the grocery store. There may not be a clear line of when you are working that you would get from working in a city, where you rarely see patients outside of your office. These patients, who are also likely to be your friends, may casually ask medical questions in public. As a way to establish your own personal boundaries, you can suggest putting them on your schedule to talk more in a private setting. Be ready to take time away from the office, enjoy some quiet, and turn off your phone when you’re not working. Keep Learning and Learn Quickly Never stop learning. Keep up to date on the latest methods, and take an ACLS class to keep your certification up to date. Attend seminars when you can or webinars when you can’t. Keep reading journal articles as they are published. Keep improving your skillset and adopting the newest technology. Most importantly, connect with other doctors in your region who can help you continue learning. They’re a valuable resource you can call on when you need advice. Never be afraid of asking for help. About Cascade Training Solutions Cascade Training Solutions teaches more than 100,000 students to save lives each year. As an authorized provider of various healthcare and workplace safety curricula, they offer over 25 nationally validated certification courses at their seven training centers. From advanced life-saving techniques to basic workplace safety, they provide healthcare organizations, public safety agencies, individuals, and corporate entities with the essential resuscitation, compliance, and safety training they need to operate smoothly. Plus, their courses are an excellent strategy for advancing your healthcare career. Whether you are a multi-state organization looking for a complete education and compliance program or an individual who needs specific certifications, Cascade Training Solutions offers cost-effective, patient care-focused solutions you can trust. Take healthcare classes and earn certifications with Cascade Training Solutions at https://www.cascadetraining.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3Qdy5Mg

#acls training

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eazy-group · 10 months

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Best 10 Air Mattresses For Camping & Festivals

New Post has been published on https://eazycamping.net/best-10-air-mattresses-for-camping-festivals/

Best 10 Air Mattresses For Camping & Festivals

One of the camping world’s unsung heroes, air mattresses have made sleeping outside more comfortable than ever. Gone are the days of lugging an old mattress around in the truck bed. Modern amenities allow air mattresses to reduce down and stow away under the front seat and deploy into cushy thrones that have us making up excuses to spend the nights outside.

You can find air mattresses with battery-powered pumps and self-inflation options that take the huffing and puffing out of camping trips and convince you to spend more time out of the house. To get on the fast track towards sleeping in the fresh air, investing in the best air camping bed out there is wise.

It isn’t easy to separate the best from the rest, especially with so many contending air mattresses that make big promises. Every other sleeping pad promises to be overweight and make you feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud, but how many of them can show up night in and night out and do the dirty work? We’re looking at these essential aspects of sleeping outside and taking the guesswork out of your next piece of outdoor gear.

Every pad may seem comfortable at first inflation, but only a few great options get you through the night without some minor deflation. This mentality isn’t just important in the backcountry. There is a significant difference between any old inflatable mattress and some of the best inflatable car-camping bed options.

Today, we’ll dig through those differences and come up with our favourite air mattresses of all creeds.

Quick Answers – Come Lay On These Air Mattresses!

#1 REI Co-op Kingdom Insulated Air Bed

#2 Kelty Kush Queen Air Bed with Pump

#3 Therm-a-Rest NeoAir Xtherm Sleeping Pad

#4 REI Co-op Backpacking Bundle

#5 ALPS Mountaineering Vertex Air Bed

#6 Sea to Summit Ether Light XT Insulated Air Sleeping Pad

#7 Static V Luxe Sleeping Pad

#8 REI Co-op AirRail Plus Self-Inflating Sleeping Pad

#9 HEST Sleep System Sleeping Pad

#10 Exped Ultra 3R Duo Sleeping Pad

Choosing The Best Air Mattress & Sleeping Pad

At the end of the day, there could be six inches or less separating you from the cold, hard earth. It may seem like you’re choosing between many very similar inflatable air mattresses and pads, but minute details make a big difference in a great night’s sleep.

That said, there are actually health benefits from sleeping straight on the earth (earthing).

Here are a few questions to help put your head on the right sleeping system.

Where are you planning on sleeping?

Inflatable mattresses get smaller the further away from the nearest parking lot they are designed to be carried. If you’re shopping for an air-bed to sleep in the car a few nights a week or camping out with your mates every few weekends, there’s no need to torture yourself with a tiny, easy-to-carry sleeping pad – treat yourself to an extra bit of comfort.

Unless, of course, you’re heading into the backcountry. If you plan on logging a few miles before setting up shop, it doesn’t matter how comfortable your sleeping pad is if it’s too heavy to make it to camp. When shopping for an air mattress made for backpacking, weight should be the #1 factor.

What’s the weather going to do?

If you’re planning on sleeping outside in rain, sleet, snow, or shine, you can’t trust any old plastic lining to stay warm. Sleeping pads and mattresses use an ‘R-value’ to measure insulation. The higher the value, the warmer your air mattress!

Summer won’t require more than a value of 1 or 2, but by the time winter rolls around, you’ll want an R-value of at least 4.5.

How far will you have to carry it?

As a general rule, it’s probably best not to buy any camping air mattress you’re not comfortable lugging around a few feet. Every mattress on our list is light enough to carry about a half-mile. Beyond that, each pound in your pack really starts to add up. The sleeping pads on our list fit for long-distance trips will be vastly different from the more cushy air bed options made for car camping, festivals, or cool nights in the backyard.

Any sleeping pad will work in the car, but most air mattresses won’t work far away from it.

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#1 REI Co-op Kingdom Insulated Air Bed

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 10 X 20

Weight (Lbs) – 5.75

Price ($) – 149

Who else but the REI co-op could lead the way towards a great night’s sleep outside. A proper air bed built for two, this camping mattress is perfect for couples or the whole family, as it quickly expands across a tent floor and feels like the mac-daddy of them all. While the 2.6 R-value isn’t enough to get you through the depths of winter, this cozy air bed isn’t about extreme conditions.

Instead, it’s about extreme comfort at an affordable price. This queen-sized air-bed fills your tent space with surprisingly warm and cozy comfort thanks to the extra six inches of lift. It’s comfy enough to work as an air mattress if you’ve got company over and packs down to a size perfect for car camping.

+Pros

Separate inflation and deflation valves won’t let air escape until you’re ready to pack it up

Welded seams gives an extra layer of protection against leaks

XL air mattress can work in the home as well as on the road

-Cons

Too large to use as a backpacking sleeping bag

2.6 R-value doesn’t provide much ground insulation

#2 Kelty Kush Queen Air Bed with Pump

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 16.5 X 12.5

Weight (Lbs) – 4.9

Price ($) – 100

Summer nights spent outside don’t require much more than this pumped-up camping mattress. The Kelty represents serious competition to the REI Co-Op kingdom’s throne by cutting off a few dollars across the bottom line. Kelty sacrificed a bit of utility to reach such an affordable price, but fair-weathered campers may hardly notice the difference.

The comfortable queen bed also sneaks in at a pound lighter than the heavy-duty kingdom air mattress to make a legitimate argument for a place in your closet. This air mattress isn’t great for much more than warm summer nights, but who wants to sleep on frozen ground anyways.

Big, comfortable, and with easy inflation thanks to the included battery inflated pump, you’ll have the diamond pattern deployed before lunchtime. The cherry on top is the double-digit price tag. These dependable two-person camping mattresses serve warm adventures well while staying affordable.

+Pros

Comes with its own battery powered pump that has the mattress inflated in a hurry

Weighs and costs significantly less than the REI kingdom mattress

150D bottom rating can survive especially serious rounds of sleeping bag tag

-Cons

This Air Bed comes with zero insulation

Integrated pillow sounds fancy but you’ll still have to pack an extra

#3 Therm-a-Rest NeoAir Xtherm Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 4 X 9

Weight (Lbs) – .9

Price ($) – 229

This sleeping pad may be the most well-rounded single-person sleeper in the great outdoors. The Xtherm excels in winter backpacking but provides a great night’s sleep year-round. Thermarest’s famed contoured build helps the sleeping bag stay cushy while shrinking down those extra few ounces that make the difference on ultralight packing lists.

The warmth is what stands this sleeping pad head and shoulders above the crowd, and it knows it. The Xtherm is not a cheap air mattress. It represents a serious investment into sleeping outside, and it pays off with four seasons of lightweight sleeping comfort.

Thermarest has focused solely on sleeping pads since the ‘70s and established themselves as a responsible part of a healthy and balanced sleep system. This dedicated sleeper is the result of decades spent outside.

Another similar alternative is the ThermaRest NeoAir XLite NXT.

+Pros

6.9 R-value signifies some of the best insulation in the business

You won’t find another sleeping pad as warm and lightweight

No better choice for 4 seasons in the back country

-Cons

Most expensive sleeping pad on our list

It’s a bit more warmth than most camping trips will ever require

#4 REI Co-op Backpacking Bundle

Specs

Sleeping pad Packed Size (Inches) – 5.25 X 7

Weight (Lbs) – 9.6

Price ($) – 349

Whether you realized Bonnaroo is only a few days away, got called out on a tinder bluff, or just want to cut back on a few decisions, this one-stop-shop will give you everything you need to get camping this weekend. Just don’t forget to pack water!

While the air mattress on its own isn’t game-breaking, the package might be. You can get a sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and two-person tent shipped to your doorstep in one big box. This isn’t one of those combo packs full of duds, either. Every part of this is the real deal, starting with the included REI passage 2 Tent, reinforced by the REI Stratus Insulated Air Sleeping Pad and wrapped up by the Trail Pod 30 sleeping bag.

That all adds to a 9.6-pound combination that will kickstart a love for the great outdoors.

+Pros

Everything you need to car camp this weekend

A rare all inclusive kit full of quality camping products

Can often be found on sale

-Cons

The combined kit will feel heavy after a few miles

The tent is fit for two but the kit only ships with one sleeping bag/pad

#5 ALPS Mountaineering Vertex Air Bed

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 7 X 15

Weight (Lbs) – 3.15

Price ($) – 134

ALPS offers up a versatile air bed with a key focus on resilience. The polyester framework and incredible weight resistance make our favourite durable and dependable air bed. It inflates fast and stays in shape overnight or all weekend. When it’s time to get back to the great indoors, the air bed compacts down into its own carrying case.

You can choose between a twin size and a queen Vertex option, both of which won’t beat any low-weight records but represent fantastic middle-class car camping options.

The camping mattress makes its case off the versatile pumping options, quick inflate, and durability. Anyone looking for a particular extreme in their sleeping pad may need to look elsewhere, but anyone wanting a sleeping pad that can do a bit of everything may find a great night’s sleep atop this inflatable camping bed.

+Pros

Fast inflation can go from zero to bedtime in 2.5 minutes

Included pump comes with a rechargeable battery

500 Lb weight limit can sleep a sumo wrestler

-Cons

Slightly large packed size for a twin air mattress

Too heavy to accompany extended trips to the backcountry

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#6 Sea to Summit Ether Light XT Insulated Air Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 9.5 X 4.5

Weight (Lbs) – 1

Price ($) – 179

This one-person pad is Sea to Summit’s lightest and thickest sleeping pad option. The highlights include air-sprung cells that stretch out the thick padding and create a more sleeping room without adding pounds. This cheeky thickness helps boost the R-value of this camping mattress to a 3.2, which fits the pad squarely into a three-season range.

An extra splash of width, a boost of thickness, and various sizing options help seal the deal for this versatile sleeping pad. This backpacking specialist is probably a bit cramped to take on the festival circuit, but the lightweight pad slips into its own bag and makes a great backpacking sleeping pad.

You’ll get moving quickly in the morning with the two-pronged valve. Any overnight adventure will get a bit more comfort out of the thick, 4-inch height that brings mattress spring comfort to the backcountry.

+Pros

Three different sizing options help fit in a great night’s sleep

Two different types of insulation are better than one

One of the best backpacking sleeping pads for side sleepers

-Cons

Durable rubber outer layer tends to squeak

A bit light for car camping and a touch heavy for backpacking

#7 Static V Luxe Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 4.5 X 8

Weight (Lbs) – 1.65

Price ($) – 99

This plush sleeping bag is bringing serious comfort down to double digits. As one of the more affordable backpacking air mattresses out there, the Kymit fills a much-needed void by helping backpackers save a few dollars without sacrificing quality.

A cheap air mattress is always a risky proposition. Checking the forecasts and sticking to summertime helps you get away with a night or two outside with a lackluster tent, but one pop can ruin the night no matter where you are. The Static V sleeping pad takes the guesswork out of saving you money and will have you spending more nights sleeping underneath the stars.

+Pros

A great first foray into backpacking sleeping pads

One of the most dependable and affordable single person camping mattresses out there

Purchase protected by a limited lifetime warranty

-Cons

One size fits all

Slightly heavy for long distance backpacking

#8 REI Co-op AirRail Plus Self-Inflating Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 6 X 11

Weight (Lbs) – 1.5

Price ($) – 100

Red bull’s the only thing that gives you wings, but this REI AirRail sleeping pad comes with extended edges to serve as the next best thing. The self-inflating central cushion works on its own to give you a place to sleep, but the wings on this sleeping pad make it one of the comfiest single sleeping pads on the market.

Unless you’re planning a spartan adventure deep into the woods, what’s the harm of bringing a few extra ounces? The AirRail sides keep you locked into place all night long and bring together the comfort of this XL sleeping pad. Just a few inches on either side will provide all sorts of sleepers with the comforts of home while on the road.

These extra sides also add a splash of insulation that elevates the sleeping pad into a four-season conversation. An R-value of 4.2 keeps you warm even through chilly mountaintop nights.

+Pros

Wide edges and narrow bottoms stretch out the sleeping pad without feeling unwieldy

Not the highest R-value on our list but still suitable for winter camping

Three separate size options help all sorts of sleepers

-Cons

A bit too heavy for long mileage

The self-inflating only goes as far as the central cushion – you’ll have to inflate the air rail sides on your own

#9 HEST Sleep System Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 14 X 25

Weight (Lbs) – 26

Price ($) – 449

This sleep system might just be more comfortable than your mattress at home. The most expensive inflatable mattress on our list earns its heavy payday by bringing all sorts of home comforts on the road. Two layers of memory foam help you sink into a good night’s sleep no matter where you are, while a durable waterproof bottom layer protects you from the ground up.

All this extra cushion coalesces with an 11.1 R-value that brings insulation far beyond the capabilities of most camping pads. While the system can roll and fold to take up less space, This sleeping pad is too much for trips far away from the car.

With the right sleeping system, any car, tent, or flat ground will feel just like home. A few places are truly worth spending a few extra dollars, and your sleep absolutely qualifies. Anyone looking for a full-time inflatable camping bed deserves to reap the benefit of this comfortable sleeping pad.

+Pros

Large enough for two people and their pup

Brings memory foam to the great outdoors

Mattress provides two separate slabs of foam for comfortable sleeping on both sides

-Cons

Too heavy to take more than a few feet from the car

Might cost more than your tent

The best present of all… is CONVENIENCE!

Now, you could spend a fat chunk of $$$ on the WRONG present for someone. Wrong size hiking boots, wrong fit backpack, wrong shape sleeping bag… As any adventurer will tell you, gear is a personal choice.

So give the adventurer in your life the gift of convenience: buy them an REI Co-op gift card! REI is The Broke Backpacker’s retailer of choice for ALL things outdoors, and an REI gift card is the perfect present you can buy from them. And then you won’t have to keep the receipt.

Buy on REI!

#10 Exped Ultra 3R Duo Sleeping Pad

Specs

Packed Size (Inches) – 10 X 5

Weight (Lbs) – 1

Price ($) – 149

The specs on this compact sleeping pad would be incredible enough for a one-person sleeping pad, but this is a bonafide bed built for two. The duo designation makes it the lightest and most compact two-person camping mattress on our list and one of backpacking best-kept secrets.

The Exped stays light enough to work as an ultra roomy one-person sleeping pad or a rare two-person pad that’s still suitable for backpacking. Each sleeper will reap the support of separate vertical baffles that help lower the risk of waking up your partner on the way to the bathroom.

This simple sleeping pad brings just the essentials and plenty of space to roll around. It’s an uncomplicated, lightweight pack that fully inflates in less than five pumps with the included pump sack.

+Pros

Incredibly lightweight for a two-person camping mattress

Also works well as a roomy one-person car camping mattress

One of the fastest inflating camping mattresses out there

-Cons

2.9 R-value signifies little to no included insulation

Not an easy sleeping pad to track down

Our GREATEST Travel Secrets…

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Final Thoughts

We’ve looked at the best air mattresses of all shapes and sizes, from ultralight backpacking specialists to cushy car camping options. Now that you’ve seen what the best inflatable camping mattresses are capable of, all you need to do is figure out where you plan on sleeping next.

The most crucial factor to consider is how far you’re heading from the nearest parking lot, but you should also decide how many nights in a row you plan on sleeping on your inflatable mattress and what kind of weather you’ll be exploring.

As much as we’d all love to have a walk-in closet full of the latest and greatest outdoor gear, we are still broke backpackers at the end of the day. You’ll have to put your needs against your budget and see who comes out on top.

No one sleeping pad is perfect for every camping style, so there’s nothing wrong with having an option or two at your disposal.

As long as you’re picking from the air mattresses on our list, you’ll be well on your way to a good night’s sleep in the great outdoors.

lot, but you should also decide how many nights in a row you plan on sleeping on your inflatable mattress and what kind of weather you’ll be exploring.

And for transparency’s sake, please know that some of the links in our content are affiliate links. That means that if you book your accommodation, buy your gear, or sort your insurance through our link, we earn a small commission (at no extra cost to you). That said, we only link to the gear we trust and never recommend services we don’t believe are up to scratch. Again, thank you!

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