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httpiastri · 5 months

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this christmas – op81

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

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

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

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

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

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

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

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

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

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

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

and then, you were just two.

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

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

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

"a month has never felt this long before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

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

"hey, i just wanted to-"

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod. "yeah, it does."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"exactly."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"is this okay?"

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

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

"give me your other foot."

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

compose yourself, woman.

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

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

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

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

shit.

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

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

"oh, no skiing?"

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

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

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

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

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

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

"but oscar promised to come along?"

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

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

"w-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i don't believe it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"touché."

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

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

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

"indeed..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and when he asks, you tell.

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

and then, he tells you his side.

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"and what does that mean?!"

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

"what kind of plan?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you suck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

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

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

the mistletoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh, is that so?"

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

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

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

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

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

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

yet again, instant boner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"as you wish."

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

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

"just you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"apologize. now."

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

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

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

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

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

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

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

oscar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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hee0soo · 18 days

Text

Bumps and Paws

Pairing — ChoiSanxafab!Reader

Summary — A pregnancy brings many unknown things with itself but what you didn't expect was Byeol becoming this attached...

Genre — fluff, established Realationship, Idol!Au

Warnings — pregnancy, mentions of nausea

Wordcount — 1.2k

Rating — pg-13

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

When you had first met San all those years ago, you hadn't thought much about the future. Still in university and working 2 jobs on the side were enough to keep your mind from wandering that far and going on dates was certainly nothing you wanted to think about while exam season was right around the corner!

You weren't prepared for the bright smiles and cheeky winks the small boy getting coffee for what seemed like an army threw at you and you certainly weren't prepared for being asked out on a hectic day during rush hour that had you stammering a shocked, "Yes?" and the little skip in the boys step as he left the café you worked at only to realize that he didn't have a way to contact you and run back in in panic.

If you were to be honest with yourself, the awkward and still somehow charming boy had managed to break through the chains you had locked your heart with in the span of mere seconds that day. You weren't one to believe in love at the first sight but something that day made you think that maybe it wasn't entirely impossible...

It wasn't always easy. Between his admitting to being a trainee at a small label, long nights of studying, working and barely being able to see each other with his hectic schedule once his group made it's debut and keeping everything a secret, there had been times where you thought letting him go would be for the best. Times where you had told him to move on even if it broke your heart and times where he had looked at you, eyes swimming with tears, telling you that he didn't want to move on without you.

But now, years later, you were settled down. A apartment you shared with the man who had almost grown twice in size compared to back then, a cuddly cat that seemed to love you more then it's original owner, and a baby on the way!

Not what you had dared to think about all those years ago.

While you were ecstatic upon finding out about the little peanut growing inside of you, now, almost 6 months in you were ready to smack your boyfriend for doing this to you! Swollen feet, nausea and cravings that sometimes scared you were only some of the struggles you faced as of now. And that at a state where you still were able to move without do many difficulties.

However the thing that caused you the most stress was the amount of times you had to pee!

Finding a position on your couch that was 100% comfortable proved to be nearly impossible with the little bean seemingly tap dancing on your bladder and sending you on your way to the bathroom only to repeat the process not to long after again.

San found the whole thing incredibly amusing. The pout he received at the hushed giggles causing a flood of kisses to be peppered over your face as you sat there in the living room, dressed in his shirt that seemed much to big even with the bump and a pair of sweatpants that was also his. The TV being completely forgotten as you pretend glared at your bare belly and the cat that had it's nose resting on it. Shirt tucked up and secured under your boobs do make sure it didn't drop while the feline purred against your skin.

"You know, I can already tell that the two of you will be a menace to society if you keep making me pee!" you huffed, hand stroking over Byeols head gently.

San snorted to himself. He had watched and listened for a while from his place next to you while your body melted against his.

Byeol let out a meow as if she disagreed with the statement wholeheartedly. She closed her eyes, purrs vibrating against your belly and enjoying the pets you gave her.

The cat had become somewhat of a shadow ever since you got pregnant I following you around wherever you went. Beit the kitchen where she always managed to convince you do give her a treat, the bed where she usually prefered the presence of your boyfriend or the bathroom where she meowed so loud in front of the door until you caved and let her inside.

You swore that you could see a proud gleam in the animals eyes and that it wasn't just something you imagined!

No matter where you went, Byeol was there too.

Sanfound the new behavior more then hilarious, cooing over his girl guarding his girl. At least until the feline had chosen to turn on him, hissing and batting the offending hand of his away from your / her/ bump. It wasn't serious. Byeol never actively using her claws or teeth to nibble on his hand, but the shock on San's face was more then enough to produce an evil cackle from you.

Her newest antic however you didn't know what do think of. On one side it was cute to see the cat drying to communicate with the peanut growing inside you, on the other hand you really didn't appreciate having your bladder kicked and be played with!

And that's what was happening daily ever since Byeol had understood that whatever had changed in you could kick. It was almost like a game of tag, only that neither the baby nor the cat had any intentions of moving away. Starting with the babys food kicking outwards to be seen from the outside. The poor cat had been so startled that she had fallen of the couch in shock. However once Byeol had gotten used to the movement of your belly, it a nickly developed into said game.

And so you found yourself in your current predicament. Byeol tapping against your stomach with her paw, ce moment of silence, and then a kick from the baby. The two could play like this forever it felt like. At least until a particular hard kickor punch send you running to the bathroom!

"Come on, it's cute! Byeol-ah is just being a good big sister to the little bean. Wantingtoget to know her and play," San chuckled against the side of your head, his hand playing with the strap of your top. "And you can't tell me that you don't think the same."

You hummed quietly. "But do they have to do it on my bladder? I'm way to comfy to get up now..." Scratching Byeols ear you scrunched your nose.

San ever the loving boyfriend kissed your temple. "But where would be the fun in that?"

He leaned over to get closer to your growing belly, his finger tapping against where he had just seen a movement of the skin only to receive an enthusiastic punch as an answer.

You smiled softly.

"Are you being mean to your mommy? Not letting her restin peace, but playing with your sister?" He mumbled against the bump.

A kick from the baby.

A kiss from the proud baby daddy.

And a tap against San's head from Byeol.

"Yah! Byeol-ah! That's my bump! Let me talk to my baby!" San complained, faking insult.

Byeol looked unimpressed and hit him again on the head before purring loudly to rub her head against your stomach.

"I don't think she agrees on that, Sannie."

Sulking he came back up. His mouth suddenly being against yours in a loving kiss.

"I don't care, you and the bean are mine!"

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #ateez #choi san #san #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #san x reader #san x y/n #san x you #choi san imagines #san imagines #ateez imagines #choi san fluff #divider by cafekitsune

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sarahs-library · 8 months

Text

Forgotten

In which an unfortunate turn of events leads to Azriel forgetting his very pregnant mate.

Words: 2541

A/N - Hi everyone, this is my first foray into publishing work online and like everyone else I am preparing for CC3 by re-reading all of SJM's work. I've been inspired by all the lovely Azriel/Reader pieces I've seen on tumblr as of late and have decided to contribute my own.

Part Two ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Heavy waves of unconsciousness threatened to drag Azriel further, deeper into the abyss. The roaring in his ears drowned out rational thought. Tongue dragging against the roof of his dry mouth he reached out for something to anchor him, carting his hands through silk sheets. His skin burned.

“Azriel?” Elain’s sweet voice floated through the darkness. Azriel fought against the fatigue to open his eyes. The brightness strained and he tried to focus. Light filtered through the window, highlighting beautiful features and the golden hues of her hair. She leaned forward, taking a pitcher of water from the bedside table to fill a glass, holding it up to his lips so he could drink. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth in gratitude and he worked his dry lips around the rim. One hand came up to support the glass, holding it over Elain’s own, an excuse to feel her smooth sun-kissed skin.

He hadn’t seen her since the disaster of the almost kiss and his words, ‘this was a mistake’, had haunted him endlessly in his sleepless nights. The regret hadn’t stopped the images that plagued him. How she would look underneath him, or riding him, the faces she’d make as he brought her pleasure, the sweet songs she’d sing for him as she climaxed. Even Rhy’s warning hadn’t been able to tame the desire he felt for the middle Archeron sister; in his half delirious state he was content to take advantage of the closeness the opportunity offered. His eyes roamed her face, following the tantalizingly exposed skin of her neck down to where the bust of her pale pink gown hid her breasts from his view.

Satiated, he pulled his head away and managed to croak out a small word of thanks. Elain’s brows furrowed as she searched his face for something, finding it lacking.

“We’ve all been so worried about you.” Azriel frowned, finding it difficult to care about anything other than admiring her beauty in the light provided by the rising sun. He made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and traced the delicate bones of her wrist under his fingers where his large hand still dwarfed hers. She pulled back, placing the glass on the bedside table and he felt words of protest trying to break free. Come back he thought, his appetite to feel more of her supple skin under his own ignited.

Contentment rose in him as she leaned closer once more, this time placing the back of her hand against his forehead. Perspiration clung between their skin; Azriel resisted closing his eyes and basking in the warmth erupting in his chest. Memories of his mother flooded back, in a daze he felt himself being carried through the few times in his childhood when she’d been able to care for him as he had yearned for. This position brought Elain even closer to him, affording him a delightful view of what lay beneath the top of her dress with a downward cast of his eyes. He soaked in where the tan from her time in the gardens morphed into untouched alabaster and ruminated on how it would taste under his tongue.

“You’re still burning up, I’ll send for Madja.”

“No,” he reached to grasp her hand as she pulled back. “Stay.”

Elain worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she fixed her rich chestnut eyes on his face. Azriel couldn’t draw his gaze away from how the baby-soft skin looked trapped under her incisor, imagining how it would feel under his own. He watched as her eyes lost focus, she seemed to stare straight through him. He knew the look; could recognise the blankness imposed by communicating with daemati. Which meant that Rhys would be coming soon.

He sighed, perturbed by the impending interruption. He reached for his shadows, hoping that they would at least give him some advanced warning but found them missing. Frowning he tried to sit forward, tearing his eyes from Elain’s face he scanned the room. His room, at the House of Wind. All the times he'd dreamed of her in here with him, what they would do, he'd never quite imagined it like this.

“What happened?” He still clutched at Elain’s hand but lowered it to rest against his thighs. His chest was exposed, naked and flushed with fever. The muscles in his wings protested as he moved to unfurl them slightly and he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. Such a small motion, but it brought the catalogue of pain to the forefront of his mind through the haze.

The dark silk sheets pooled at his waist and rubbed against the stark whiteness of clean cotton bandages. He could feel where the membranes connecting the sinewy muscle and delicate bones of his wings pulled tighter in places over almost healed wounds. The room smelt of antiseptic; underneath his own scent was stale as though he hadn’t stayed there in a long time.

“I don’t know all of the details, you’ll have to speak to Rhys and Feyre.” Elain seemed to falter under the intensity of his gaze. “You arrived a few nights ago, winnowed to the River House poisoned and half-dead. Madja’s been working on you for days.”

"You've been here all this time?"

He leaned closer to her, his chest warming at the thought that perhaps he hadn't destroyed this, not like everything else he seemed to touch. Elain was frozen under his graze, eyes wide and lips parted. He drew closer, inhaling the scent of jasmine and honey, unable to resist her magnetism.

"Oh." She started and moved back in her chair, putting distance between him and his advances. "No, I arrived about half an hour ago. Y/N needed to get some rest." Her face seemed to implore him to do something and his thoughts were drawn to the failed kiss at solstice. Perhaps this was a gift from the mother Azriel reasoned. An opportunity to do everything over.

His eyes fixed on hers and an unfamiliar sensation bloomed in his chest. Azriel frowned as he felt a tug, it seemed to come from inside his ribcage. He brought his free hand, the one that was still clutching at Elain's, to rub at the skin over his heart. Confused he trailed his eyes down Elain's face to look at the skin his scarred fingers danced over.

He started as he saw it, the thread of pure gold. He reached in a tugged, feeling the answering wave of love and relief. If Azriel felt like he was drowning earlier it was nothing compared to the joy and elation that threatened to swallow him whole. His eyes burned as tears brimmed.

"Elain," he breathed. "I can't believe..." He trailed off, fixing her with a gaze of awe. If he wasn't still suffering from the lingering sluggishness perhaps he would have taken more stock of her confused stare. His hand stilled against his chest and he continued to stare at her. Whatever permission he was looking for, he thought he found in her gaze.

He reached up to caress her neck, following the delicate arch upwards to tangle his long fingers into her curls. His other hand dropped hers to cradle her cheek.

"Azriel." Elain tried to move back further in her chair to escape his wandering hands but found no further retreat against the back of the hardwood. Azriel followed her, shifting forward on the bed so only a few inches separated their faces. His breath mingled with hers.

Taking a deep breath he closed the distance between their lips, fire pooling in his gut with anticipation of finally getting to taste her like he had dreamed of. Claiming her full bottom lip between his own he revelled in the sweetness of her mouth. He pressed harder, her soft lips yielding against his own as he moved to deepen the kiss by tracing his tongue over the swell of her bottom lip. Elain softened in his arms and her fisted hands moved up to rest against his bare chest, not pulling him close but not pushing him away either.

He pulled back slightly, her doe-eyes meeting his firey gaze as he smiled contently at her. His left hand was tangled in the roots of her hair exposing the delicate skin of her ear which he moved to trace with his nose. His breath grazed the supple skin of her neck and his lips danced over the skin of her neck.

"Azriel, wait." Elain seemed to be roused by his actions, opening her hands to press her palms against the plain of his chest. He paused his movement against her throat, inhaling more of her scent deeply as he began to pull back.

"Azriel?"

The voice was unfamiliar, husky and choked, holding back emotion. Hurt bloomed through Azriel's chest and it startled him away from Elain. Anger rose within him at this stranger's interruption, at the hurt they'd caused Elain. Elain who was his mate. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl, driven by instinct. His eyes moved towards the doorway. He felt naked, at a disadvantage without the shadows that had followed him for most of his life, always whispering, always alerting him to the movement of others.

His eyes fixed on the feminine figure in the doorway, taking a cursory gaze over the long golden hair that pooled to her shoulders. She wore night court attire, loose-fitting dark trousers, and a thin-strapped top that hugged the top of her form and flowed out over the obvious swell of her abdomen. The trousers cut off at the calves and a swirl of shadows danced around her feet. Azriel started. They were his shadows.

Elain jumped to her feet, the wooden chair pulled up beside the bed hit the carpeted floor with a thud as she made to move away from Azriel. His hands moved to grab her, to pull her behind him as he struggled to his feet, to protect her from this thief that had infiltrated his home.

"Y/N...This isn't...We weren't, it was..."Elain trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for how to continue. Azriel, now upright but still unsteady, staggered forward a few steps to place himself in between the stranger and Elain.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Elain obviously knew this woman. His mind spun, thoughts still heavy from the lingering fever as he tried to piece the information together. He gestured at the floor, a signal for his shadows to return. Some of them peeled away from winding up the calves of this stranger and slithered towards him across the floor. He took comfort in the familiar cool trail left as they crawled up his legs and chest, curling around his ear to report to him.

Safe, they whispered. Safe as you instructed. Azriel frowned, clearly they were mistaken. He fixed his eyes on the female again, drawn to her face. Chartreuse eyes, lined with tears and framed with long lashes and dark charcoal, stared back at him. They weren't fae he realised, they possessed the otherworldly quality he'd only seen when looking at Amren. There was a deep sense of other about this female that heightened his feelings of unease, coupled with the rogue shadows that flaunted his command and stayed at her feet like loyal guard dogs Azriel automatically grazed his thigh looking for the reassurance of the heavy weight of truth-teller. He found none.

Elain was speaking again, trying to move forward past him, and this time he successfully caught her arm, gently angling her away from the infiltrator to shield her with his body once more. The female's gaze moved from his face to fix where his hand remained on Elain's bicep, rucking up the delicate pale pink fabric as he gripped it with his scarred fingers. Her eyes widened more, Azriel studied as her pouted bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to spill down her face. She took a step back from where she stood in the open doorway, retreating into the hallway. Azriel was torn between the instinct to follow, to press the advantage he'd unwittingly gained and staying to protect Elain.

Elain who was violently shrugged herself out of his grip, whirling to face him her face filled with anger he'd never seen on her delicate features before.

"What in the cauldron are you doing?" Elain's teeth were bared, her chestnut eyes blazed as she gestured at him widely as she continued. "Have you lost your mind?"

Azriel, surprised at her sudden anger, felt a deep sense of unease that he'd misjudged the situation somehow. His mind whirled, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was so used to having the upper hand, having all the information, that without it he was lost for words. Elain continued to back away from him and his eyes darted from her to the doorway which now stood empty, no signs of the mysterious female remained. Azriel's eyes fixed again on Elain's face as they stared at each other. He tugged at the cord in his chest, hoping to receive a response, some kind of assurance that he hadn't imagined it.

A deep sense of betrayal coursed back through the bond, anger mingled with hurt, the sensation was so strong that it almost brought Azriel to his knees. As quickly as the sensation came it stopped, the thread no longer sung and Azriel tried to follow it to the source. A source, he realised flinching, that didn't end with Elain but seemed to trail off and lead elsewhere.

The clap as a pair of powerful wings moved through the air was the only warning as seconds later Rhys landed on the balcony. The doors flew open on a wave of darkness as he sauntered into the room, violet eyes scanning the scene. A dark brow crooked as he took in Elain's rage and his brother half-naked, still flush with fever his shadows swirling in agitation.

"What happened? Azriel, should you be out of bed? Where's Madja?" He addressed his brother first, but his eyes drifted to Elain as he cocked his head for the answer to the second question. Elain took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself, before closing her eyes - an obvious invitation, she wanted to show Rhys. Azriel decided that she could show him whatever she wanted. The more pressing issue, the unknown female, would have to take priority over whatever punishment the High Lord wanted to concoct over Azriel's blatant disregard for his orders.

"Rhys, the stranger - you have to find her. I don't know how she got in. I woke without my shadows and they were with her, she took them."

Rhy's eyes moved between him and Elain as he seemed to piece together the course of events. He took a step forward, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as Azriel bristled.

"Az." His voice was low, comforting, like he was trying to soothe a cornered predator. "Everything is okay, why don't you take a seat. Feyre's on her way, I think we need to talk."

A/N I'm hoping to start working on Part 2 asap but not sure how long it will take, I have so many ideas for this and committing to them is so hard

#azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #elain archeron #elain x azriel

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glitterjay · 2 months

Text

— ride

⠀⭒ paring biker!jake x afab!reader. friends to lovers(?, masturbation (f), pet names, drabble, pretty short, semi suggestive content under the cut (minors DNI)

⭒ someone left this idea in my ask and i went INSANE.

the party you were headed to in the first place was long forgotten. jake had stopped at the gas station to get a quick snack, leaving his bike on for him to hop on and keep going.

the whole ride was hell for you. being so close to one of your friends was... definitely an experience. the way jake's back felt against you was making you feel a lot of things, to which the bike vibrating under you was not helping at all.

on the other hand, jake was standing by the entrance of the small convenience store, watching you look around as you moved your hips alongside the seat that belonged to him. the gas station was almost deserted, it was late anyway.

"having fun?" he asked, walking up to you and his precious bike. you jumped in surprise. the feeling was getting stronger and better, making you forget completely about your surroundings.

he laughed, making you sit back on the spot you belonged to, hoping on his place to keep riding. "oh, baby. you left it all nice and warm for me." you blushed more at the nickname.

you were both back in the road, and your chest was against jake's wide back. your hands roamed freely around his torso, making him tap your leg quickly. he stopped in another gas station. this one was lonlier, it seemed abandoned.nthe lights worked just fine, perfect for jake.

he got off, leaving the bike on again. you were puzzled at first, as he told you to sit in front, and he'd be behind you this time. "do that again." he said. you looked back at him a little confused.

jake chuckled, grabbing you by the hips and moving them back and forth. you looked back at him once again, this time in shock. you hadn't paid much mind to what had happened earlier. he was going to drop you off at the party and forget about it, right?

but oh, the things jake had felt when he saw you getting pleasure from HIS bike. so here he was, behind you, guiding your every move as he ghosted kisses on the nape of your neck. "forget the party. lets have our own".

im lacking creativity, but i will make a longer version, TRUST.

#— ✿ c's work!#kpop #hard hours #enhypen #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours #engene #enhypen jake #enhypen jake smut #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake #jake smut

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vacayisland · 6 months

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@!; Meet the Wifie JD / Female! Reader

"Summary"! You had always heard about JD's brothers, but you had never met them before as you had gotten with JD after the band had broken up. Yet, while on a mission to save Floyd, you were slowly introduced to his brothers, each in their own silly yet loving ways. "Tags"! Fluff? Idk somehow a fight almost breaks with between the Reader and poor Clay. Also tumblr is being weird so praying this posts this way.

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @gtdkibf6jshhshjd

@!; Branch and Poppy would be the first to know the truth about JD; A truth he might have forgotten to tell his brothers back in the band days, and something he even forgot to tell Branch and Poppy before they rode in Rhonda for the first time. It wasn't like he was trying to keep secrets, far from it; JD was more than proud of this little secret he has managed to cheek, yet in the flurry of re-meeting Branch and meeting Poppy and getting them both down to help save Floyd, he might have forgotten this tiny detail. "Branch! You never told me you guys has a sister!" Poppy exclaimed as she bounced into Rhonda, beaming from ear to ear as she noticed another Troll inside; they were looking over a few scattered papers, receipts, post cards, anything that she's been able to dig up. Yet her attention was caught away from her search and study when three Trolls entered the little RV, even more so calling her JD's brother. She tried to explain to Poppy that she wasn't JD's sister, that she was in fact his girlfriend, yet JD stopped her before she could; raising a hand in her direction as soon as he saw her open her mouth. He playfully wiggled a finger at Poppy, "That's the wifie!" "You're married?!" Poppy exclaimed with excitement, while Branch seemed taken aback instantly; his attention filtered from you to JD, a silent question engulfing his eyes as he tried to fathom a world where someone would have interest in his older brother. "Well, uh, not technically?" JD rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled with nerves; While you chuckled, a bit more sweetly, along side of him. Poppy tilted her head in confusion, her arms dropping to the side as she tried to think of how JD called you his 'wife' but you guys weren't married. Branch stood next to Poppy, still trying to fathom this whole situation. Wondering how you, someone who seemed so... not JD, ended up with someone like his older brother. As in given example, you were careful to stand up and walk around all the evidence you had dug up from boxes of old things that JD had kept since his band days. While JD, while turning around to reach for your waist, almost stepped and step a whole stack of papers flying to the floor! You had stopped him before he did so, thankfully, playfully smacking his leg away from the stack so he would yelp but realize his mistake and draw his leg back. "Hi, it's so very nice to meet you two." You would extend your hand towards Branch and Poppy; In which, Poppy grabbed your hand first and shook it enthusiastically. "Hello! It's so very nice to meet you!" Exclaimed Poppy as she almost made your arm fall off with how vigorously she was shaking it, "I'm Branch's, JD's younger brother, girlfriend. And can I say, you have very lovely hair." You smiled at Poppy, though were glad to be able to pull your hand away when she finished the hand shake. With your other hand, you grabbed onto the closest hand JD had to you, interlocking your fingers.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you both. I expect you both know what's happening?" You received a nod from Poppy, while Branch just kept his eyes square on JD; who tried to play it cool, but you noticed the tiniest sweat drop rolling down his forehead. "Well then, Poppy, would you like to help me search for clues? I'm trying to find where Spruce is-" You didn't even have to finish before Poppy bounded over, grabbing your hand and rushed over to the pile of documents and files you had pulled out. It genuinely shocked you how much energy she had. But you were not going to let that scare you! What you and Poppy didn't notice, as you were sorting and shuffling around clues, was the 'I'm watching you' fingers that Branch gave to JD. In which JD just extended his arms, wondering what Branch was going on about. Branch, in response, glanced over at you and then back to JD with a cock of his eyebrow. Confused, JD turned towards you and Poppy and then back at Branch wondering what he was getting on about. But Branch wasn't going to say his thoughts out loud, not yet.

@!; Bruce would be the second one to meet you, and much like Branch he was confused on how this even happened. Unlike Branch, he was happy that JD finally had someone who could tolerate him and his bossy ways; That's not to say that Branch was unhappy for you or JD, he was just a little jealous and sour that after all this time JD had changed yet he couldn't have been there for Branch when he needed it. Those feelings shifted from time to time the more Branch saw you and JD interact, and he couldn't help but slowly feel guilty; Yet, still standing the fact that it wasn't all that fair. Either way, Bruce met you when Poppy, Bruce, and Branch came back to Rhonda after a successful mission and a dance number about Brozone being back. You were sat in the driver's seat, mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards; You had been asked if you would like to join the three, mostly by Poppy and JD, but you had declined as you weren't much of a people person. It's what drew you to JD at first, when you heard he was going solo around the globe in a 'soul-searching' journey. You asked more about it and slowly the two of you had grown closer than you ever thought would be possible. As such, you always tended to miss him dearly when he stepped off Rhonda. And, subsequently, is why you bounded onto your feet when you heard the door open. You didn't even mind that the deck of cards had spilt all over the floor as you heard your boyfriends all too familiar voice shout, "Honey, we're home!" Which was followed by a confused new voice, "Honey?" "You'll get used to it." And Branch's snarky comeback. They had managed to grab Spruce, no doubt, thanks to the post card. Yet, before JD could introduce you both, he had to take care of the loving and attentive girlfriend that had appeared right in front of him; Grabbing both his hands and welcoming him back with a big smile, while also accidentally stopping those from behind JD; Who had to awkwardly shuffle around the two of you. "What did you do?" JD quipped, smirking down at you with a curious look. He hadn't notice the stack of playing cards that had been left on the ground yet, which Poppy had began to pick up out of habit. "Nothing! I just missed you." Branch, standing next to Bruce, could swear he could see the definition of heart eyes in your eyes. He wasn't sure if he was actually happy for his brother, or a little grossed out, or jealous, or all the above with some plausible explanation for his emotions that he didn't feel like going into. JD, having forgotten that you two had company over, was quick to scoop you up into his arms, as he usually did when you greeted him back home. His arms rested under your thighs, supporting you as you sat on his forearms, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck while your legs wrapped around his waist. There was something always so peaceful yet exciting being this close to JD; Being able to clearly see his eyes, as you cupped his cheeks and leaned down to connect your foreheads. You were able to smell his cologne, which you swore you could get drunk off of. You could just feel his warmth and be able to take a moment to stop and breath and remember that he's here and he isn't going anywhere. You could just, be; Be here with JD and not have to worry about anything. And the way that JD tightened his hold, the way he looked back up at you with adoration... you knew he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you almost kicked him out of his own bus one time because he was being a pain in your ass. A cough from Branch, and awing from Poppy, snapped you both out of your love-drunk dazes. Causing you to sit up properly and glance over at the company, all the while you kept JD's cheeks cupped with your hands and he couldn't really tilt his head to see everyone. "You both are!... adorable!" Poppy shouted, bouncing on her toes as she held onto Branch's arm. You couldn't help but laugh as her reaction, noticing that she was refraining from shaking Branch with all her might.

"Yeah, very cute." Sarcasm leaked out of Branch, "But have you both realized we've been standing here for a minute? We need to go out and look for Clay so we can save Floyd!- Yet, Bruce only patted Branch on the shoulder, "Calm down, Bitty B! I wanna meet JD's partner." Along with giving you both a smile as you slide out of JD's arms and onto the floor. At least, you were attempting to do so, but JD only tightened his hold. "Bruce, meet the wifie; Wifie, meet Bruce one of my younger brothers. Good, there you guys meet. Now if you excuse us," And, though Bruce seemed to have wanted to met more, he simply walked away with you still in his arms. Which caused you to flush but laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder and asking what has gotten into him! But, then again, this was your boyfriend and he was usually this selfish with you.

@!; Clay met you in Putt-Putt Village, where you had been convinced by JD to come out with everyone else. He had claimed that it was simply too dark and spooky to let you stay home alone and he couldn't make sure you were properly safe in Rhonda. You tried arguing saying that he's left you in worse conditions, which seemed to get a rile out of Bruce who questioned him what you had meant. It was funny to watch JD sputtering out reasons and excuses and examples, but in the end you decided to join them. It would do you good to get some fresh air after so many hours of basically non-stop traveling. To say you regretted your choice as soon as the clown-head started talking would be an understatement. To say you weren't about to kill JD when gulf balls began to animate and roll around you, was an understatement. To say that you then didn't smack JD behind the head when everything turned out to be alright was... actually, that's not an understatement because that's exactly what you had done. "And you said I wouldn't be safe in Rhonda! When has she ever let me get surrounded by gulf-balls that actually turned out to be Trolls." You had 'scolded' JD as you smacked him behind the head. It wasn't anything hard, just a small one-two to see if he still had some sort of brain in there. JD jerked towards you with the most betrayed look you've every seen him give, "Babe!" JD sputtered, not knowing how to respond to you assault! "I'm about to go back to the trailer." You muttered, a little salty. Crossing your arms you turned away from JD and towards Viva, who was screaming about how the new guests needed friends and milkshakes; Which the other Trolls in the village jumped onto getting. "If you go back I might have to follow you to correct this attituded we're having." JD snirked slyly, crossing his arms as he flashed me a knowing glance. Wiggling his eyebrows and winking playfully, leaving you slightly baffled at his boldness in front of everyone. "JOHN D-" You started, yet was quickly cut off as you hadn't noticed Clay's sudden appearance; or how he had rushed over to say hello to baby Branch and Bruce, giving a lack luster response to JD. That itched you wrong. Sure, you knew JD hadn't been the best to his brothers in their band days but that still gave him no right to look and act like that towards JD. You momentarily forgot JD's comment, or the fact that he probably almost killed you earlier (to which he would rightly remind you about your flare for dramatics, and how much he loved them) and marched over to where Poppy, Branch, and Bruce where. Poppy was attempting to introduce herself to Clay, who stood in front of them, yet you pushed past them and stood as a barrier between the three and Clay; Who gave you a weird look, and was slightly taken a back by your forwardness. "Hel-" Clay tried, but didn't get very far in his greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you had a stick up your ass that someone needs to remove, Cupcakes." You spat at him as you crossed your arms, shooting him the nastiest glare you could fathom at this point. Which was nasty enough to get both Bruce and Poppy to back up a little, and Poppy to slowly inch Branch away from you and Clay.

Though Branch didn't seem to enjoy the way you were talking to his third eldest brother. He opened his mouth to say something, yet you cut him off, "Furthermore, is that how you're really going to greet your brother after all these years? With plain favoritism to the others despite everything he's had to go through and is trying to actively change because of everything that went wrong, huh?" "Oooh'kay, Babe," JD carefully walked over to you, knowing you were a little on the edge; That and you had smacked him behind the head earlier and he wasn't looking for another one of those. "How about we take a step back and go calm down-" "Nah, Imma beat his ass!" It wasn't the best first meeting you could have had with one of JD's brother, and it also put a little sour kick into the two you had met before, yet it was eventful, that was for sure. Who wouldn't find it eventful for having their older brother's spunky girlfriend almost beat their ass over a few choice words and actions towards him? Yeah... you were going to have to do a little bit of work to mend that with Clay.

@!; You officially, without the fear of him dying or any of the other brothers for that fact, met Floyd before the KISMET and BroZone concert backstage. You were there to support JD, and in turn his brothers. Sure, you had seen and heard all about Floyd before this moment but you weren't exactly sure what to expect from him. Especially since you knew that Clay or at least Bruce or Branch had told Floyd about the whole Clay fiasco on the way back. "You're (Y/N), right?" Floyd's voice from behind you caught your attention despite the current list of groceries you were writing. "Huh?" You muttered at first, having been caught off guard by Floyd's sudden approach. You couldn't help but wonder if he was here for some other reason than first greetings. "Yeah.. that's me... and you're Floyd, right?" Floyd would nod as you set down your pad and pencil on your lap, which was cross-crossed as you sat on the floor. Floyd, still a little worn down from all the talent that was taken from him, joined you on the floor and had decided to sit next to you. You weren't sure why, nor did you completely understand the sudden nerves that had struck in your body. You weren't this nervous when you met any of JD's other brothers; So, how come you were nervous now? Floyd seemed to notice this. His eyebrows frowned up as he smiled softly at you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm not here to scold you if that's what you're expecting." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, "I mean, I know what happened when you first met Clay but that's in the past, yeah? Plus, you were only trying to stand up for JD... which is sweet, I appreciated it." You jerked your head up to look at Floyd, a little baffled that he was so different from his other brothers. Before, you had been nervously fiddling with your notepad and pencil, unable to form a word to say to him. Yet, he seemed to somehow calm your nerves. Not instantly, like JD had always managed to do, but slowly with a firm reassurance. "Oh," You mouthed, before smiling, "Yeah, I still don't think I've made that up to Clay yet. I mean," You paused for a second, "I did kind of almost attack him just because he rolled his eyes at JD. It struck a wrong cord with me." Floyd chuckled, "Hey, don't worry, I get it. I always get that icky feeling whenever my brothers fight, but that's just how they are." "A ragtag team of brothers who both love yet hate each other at the exact same time?" You joked, cocking up an eyebrow. "And yet, we wouldn't have it any other way." Floyd replied with a smile, turning to look at his other brothers, who were all warming up and stretching. You glanced down at your notepad, reading the list of groceries you would need to get for the bus when JD and you set off again. There wasn't many placed to stop and get food on the road, unless you and JD gathered and hunted. "Hey, I don't know if anyone has told you this.." Floyd snapped you out of your thoughts again, "But thank you." You were baffled, "Thank you?" "Thank you," Floyd shrugged his shoulders, but his smile was so genuine and sweet. "For being there for John Dory when we weren't. For helping him at his lowest. You know, he talks a lot about you when you're not around and I don't think I would want any other Troll to be with JD than you. Welcome to the family, Sister-in-law." Floyd held out a fist bump, though knew you might need a minute by the tears welling in your eyes.

You had told yourself many, many years ago (when you first got with JD and heard about his band days) that you would never pick a favorite brother of his; Just incase it would cause some sort of family drama to arise. You didn't exactly have siblings, so you didn't really know what they fought about and what they didn't. So you told yourself if you ever met the brothers you would do your best to quell anything that came up. Yet, Floyd was making this very difficult right now... "JOHN DORY FLOYD IS MY FAVORITE BROTHER!" You rushed out, snagging Floyd's wrist and shoving it up in the air; To which he yelped, not having expected such a sudden reaction. John Dory, peaking in front backstage, stared for a moment. He hadn't fully heard you, but was able to quickly piece together what you had said: "WHAT?! BABE I'M MEANT TO BE YOUR FAVORITE!" "I don't make the rules JD, maybe you shouldn't have almost killed me!" "IT WAS ONE TIME AND NOTHING HAPPENED!" "Should have let me stay with Rhonda." You playfully shook your head towards your boyfriend, who stood in the doorway completely baffled and a little butt hurt. But, you couldn't help but laugh as his goofy expression, absolutely loving every part of him; His grumpy sides, his loving sides, and even his down-right baffled and confused sides.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#brozone x reader #john dory headcanons #john dory x reader #john dory trolls #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls 3 #brozone #clay trolls #trolls fandom #floyd trolls #spruce trolls #bruce trolls #branch trolls #poppy trolls #broppy

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dcxdpdabbles · 20 days

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omg i love everything you write why you so gooddd

i wanted to know, if requests are open? i dont know how it all works, i rarely use tumblr ^^"

if yes, can we have another part of Why Ten?

Damian does not want to do this, but his father is giving him no choice in the matter. Apparently, the man thought he owed Daniel a proper apology for his behavior while under the effects of a concussion.

Why does that mean Damian was the one suffering? Ugh, he should turn back. Tell his Father he failed in the mission assigned to him and take whatever punishment it would earn him. Surely it would not be as nerve-wracking or as nauseating as standing here would be?

Damian is about to do that, turning towards the run-down porch steps when the front door swings open. Only his training stops him from stumbling in place like a fool.

A man in a purple shirt raises a brow at him. He is shockingly handsome in a near-offputting way. The part that ruins his beauty is his lack of emotional expression. Damian had seen plenty of ninjas who trained years to craft the perfect impassive mask, but even they showed some signs of humanity.

This man does not.

Damian scrambles to straighten his back and raise his chin, cursing his palms for becoming sweaty. It's a nervous tick he's never been able to control, and he really hopes the other can't tell.

After all, he is Daniel's aloof uncle. As much as he questions how involved he is in his friend's life, this man still means a lot to Daniel. Damian wants to make a good impression on him.

"Can I help you?" His voice belies his humble station, reminding Damian of the aristocrats of his upbringing.

"Is Daniel Fenton home?" Damian asks back, fighting to bite his tongue at what could have been disrespectful. He meant to ask if it was alright to see his friend, as he had come calling for him, but somehow, his panicked voice became more biting.

More like the aggressive Robin than the spoiled Wayne.

The man's face doesn't twitch, mouth firmly shut. Damian waits a few seconds before pushing more words out of his mouth. "Does Daniel Fenton live here?"

Nothing. Just a dead-set stare that seems to drag Damian's very soul out of his body. His heart rate picks up as he suddenly wishes he had brought his katana along. This is the worst mission he's ever been on.

Taking a few steps backward- not cowering! Damian Wayne does not cower- Damian stammers. "Does Daniel Fenton even live on this street?"

He is about to run for it when the man finally speaks. "Danny is in his room. You brought flowers. Why?"

Damian risks looking down at the bouquet Alfred recommended, clutched in a death grip. He had nearly forgotten about them.

Damian was unsure of the proper custom for inviting a friend for dinner as a formal apology for past behavior. His father had insisted that he be the one to request Daniel's presence as he was the one the other boy was friends with. Despite not being anywhere near prepared, he had thrown Damian out of the manor with the instructions to extend the invitation.

The young Robin quickly realized that he was severely underprepared and had chosen to seek wisdom from the sanest family member. The old butler assures him that the flowers are a class act, even if few youths participate in the effort.

The dozen red roses would make Daniel feel special and increase his chances of success.

None of which he could tell Mr. Clockwork about. So Damian settles for a helpless shrug which makes the man's other eyebrow raise. It's a bit unsettling how little emotion that action causes.

"Danny! Can you come down here?" The man doesn't raise his voice but somehow sharpens it. Damian finds himself standing at attention upon hearing it without real thought.

Was Mr. Clockwork in the military?

"What's up?" Daniel calls from further in the house. At the sound of his voice, butterflies appear in Damian's stomach. He fights not to fidget, especially with Mr. Clockwork staring him down like the grim reaper valuing a soul.

He used to think Father was intimating. Fool he.

"Dami?" His friend appears over Mr. Clockwork's shoulder. His hair is upkeep, his clothes are old and withered, and he not wearing shoes or socks.

In all cases, he does not look his best, yet still, Damian could find no fault in his appearance. Just like his uncle Daniel was unfairly, inhumanly attractive.

His heart launches in his chest when Daniel's face lights up, recognizing him a second after his confusion. "Dami! Hey, what's up?"

"I have a message for you," he hears himself say from far away, staring helplessly into his blue dazzling eyes. Mr. Clockwork narrows his eyes as Daniel tilts his head.

"Why didn't you text me then?"

"It would not be formal to request in a text. I wish to invite you to dinner." Damian blurts, watching with small horror as an emotion finally starts to build on Mr. Clockwork's face.

It's rage.

"Dinner?" Daniel repeats, his eyes flickering to the flowers in his hands. Damian, with a start, remembers he forgot to give them to him before asking. He thrusts them towards his friend, his heart actually starting to hurt from how fast it's racing. Is it hot all of a sudden?

One of the rouges must have done something to weather again.

Daniel is frozen in the doorway, staring at the outstretched flowers and Damian like he's grown a second head. This is all horrible, and he truly wishes he would die right this very second to spare him.

Father has forsaken me, Damian thinks in near hysteria It's the only explanation for forcing me to do this.

"Oh." Daniel finally breathes, taking the flowers as gently as he can. He presses his nose to them, taking a soft sniff that does not hide the tiny but bright smile growing on his face. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dami."

Damian is fighting bile as the butterflies decide that right now is the perfect time to revolt in his stomach. He once climbed a mountain with a broken arm and no food or water, and yet, somehow, this was far more difficult. It takes three attempts to get the saliva down his throat before he can speak. "Splendid. This Friday, at seven. I shall have a car arranged to pick you up. Does that work for you?"

"It's a date," Daniel confirms, his eyes soft in a way Damian has never seen. It's a beautiful sight were it not for the utter death stare that Mr.Clockwork settles him with. Damian can't explain it, but he is sure he felt years fall off his lifeline.

"Wonderful. Good day. You too, sir." Damian doesn't fully run, but it feels like he does as Daniel waves him goodbye and Mr.Clockwork yanks him back inside, one last glare thrown his way.

It's not until hours later when he lies in his room after doing an insane amount of training to burn off the sudden energy, that Damian realizes he failed the mission anyway.

He forgot to inform Daniel that it was a family dinner hosted by his father, and the entire Clockwork/Fenton household was invited. He would have to go back tomorrow to correct himself.

He grabs a pillow to smother his scream.

________________________________________________

Bruce jerks in his seat. "Was that Damian screaming?"

"Let the poor lad be, Master Bruce," Aldred tells him without glancing up from his gardening magazine. "He is trying his best.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #dead serious #Why Ten?#Part 2 #Damian didn't realize it sounded like a date #Clockwork is protective of Danny #Danny thinks it's cute #Allfred is old fashion and thinks no one has class anymore #Bruce just wanted to apologize

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hecateslore · 4 months

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I was thinking about buzzcut!simon and accidentally typed "buzzcut" into the tumblr search bar lmao but anyways looool

thinking about laying up with simon with his head in your lap or on your chest and just rubbing that buzzed hair....or just when y'all are sitting together somewhere and you rub the back/nape of his neck...i need him so bad 😩😩😩

how did I miss this lmao. Buzzcut!Simon my beloved 😖

Sitting at the dinner table You, Simon and the rest of 141. You all decided to head out for some drinks. Simon had been flirting the idea of letting his coworkers meet you finally, and they did.

The whole night you two were having your own conversations, admiring one another. Simon would put his hand on your thigh absentmindedly, put his arm around your shoulder and rub your arm, give you a light peck on the cheek when no one was looking.

The two of you in your own little world, the night went on and it seemed like you and him had forgotten you had company. You sat right next to him and as he leaned closer to you- you rub the back of his neck, feeling his cropped hair beneath your finger tips.

"I like you right now." he turns his head to peck your forearm, You hum "I like you too." you move you hand to the side of his head and play with his ear, "You're beautiful." he says and you chuckle "You're very drunk Mr. Riley." you pat his cheek and sit back in your chair.

"Get a room!"

#lunden’s response ❀—#buzzcut!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon my beloved #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod 141 #cod mw3 #task force 141 #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty

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digital-domain · 1 month

Text

Clean Slate

Part Two to Spring Cleaning

Alastor x Reader // word count 3.1k

In which new clothes are illicitly obtained, and quickly disposed of

Tags/warnings: yandere, invasion of privacy, power imbalance, stripping/nudity, Alastor is definitely watching you sleep

A/N: god, part twos are hard to write. But the people of ao3 asked, so you, the people of tumblr, get to share in their (dubious) reward

True to his promise, Alastor did not leave your closet standing empty. When you woke up this morning, it was already full, the wardrobe you’d collected over the course of your year in hell displaced and forgotten. You wrinkled your nose in distaste when you saw that a large portion of the space was occupied by dresses, none of which fell above the knee. Those, you were sure you would never wear. But there were other options. You donned the least offensive - a pair of black trousers and a soft, slightly oversized red sweater - and felt almost like yourself when you looked in the mirror.

In the drama of last night, Alastor had skipped over the rest of the small drawers of your dresser, so at the very least, you still had your own socks and the rest of your undergarments. The shoes lined haphazardly along the floor of your closet had been replaced by stiff, polished black flats, slip-on pumps, and other things that looked as uncomfortable as they did unfashionable, but he hadn’t noticed the pair sneakers that lay beneath your bed. You felt a strange thrill as you put them on, like you were getting away with something forbidden.

And then, you thought, why stop there?

Alastor tends to keep his distance from you during the day. You do see him, of course - it’s not as if you can avoid him, living in the same building - but he barely speaks to you, unless you happen to be the only two people in the room. He doesn’t seem to like the idea of sharing your company with others, or letting anyone else see the two of you together. It means that outside of your bedroom, you still have your freedom. On this particular morning, you’ve decided to use that freedom to walk out the front door. Alastor is in the lobby, and you tense slightly when you see him, but he doesn’t so much as glance in your direction. At least, not while you’re looking at him. You swear that you can feel his eyes on your back as you exit the building. But that could just be your own paranoia. It’s been very strong as of late.

You don’t know exactly where you’re going. Just that you want to end up somewhere he wouldn’t want you to go. There are plenty of places like that in Hell. Arcades, electronics stores, smoke shops that sell harder drugs out of their back rooms, bars that don’t know how to make a proper old-fashioned…you certainly have plenty of options. But of course, in the end, you find yourself at a clothing store. Not a lingerie store - that entire concept has been ruined for you, for the time being - but still not a place he’d ever visit himself. Everything here is casual, comfortable, unpolished. The opposite of your new wardrobe.

You select a soft, unassuming pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. When you pay for them, you decline the branded paper bag, instead choosing to stuff them into the canvas one you’ve brought with you. Once you make it back to the hotel, and into your room, without alerting any suspicion, you’re relieved. You take the bundle of cloth out of the bag, and stuff it under your pillow. You’re not stupid enough to wear them during the day, but they’ll be perfect to sleep in. The slip you woke up wearing lays crumpled in an invisible corner of your closet. You’d like to forget about its existence, but you don’t dare try to destroy it.

You don’t see Alastor for the rest of the day. He doesn’t visit your room. This isn’t unheard of; his appearances have become more frequent over the past several weeks, but there are times when two, or even three precious days go by without a trace of him. Once it’s late enough, past the time when he might call on you, you change into your contraband. It’s nothing special, nothing particularly flattering, but when you look in the mirror, you smile. When you crawl into bed, you’re almost at ease. Last night, it took you a very long time to fall asleep, but tonight, it comes almost instantly.

It does not last.

You wake up, and know immediately that it is nowhere near morning. You’re on your side, facing the wall, and you fight the impulse to roll over and check the time. You’re still half-asleep. You don’t want to move.

But you do. And once you do, the time no longer matters. The exhaustion bolts from your body. You’d like to bolt along with it, but you only manage to half-sit up, swinging one arm defensively over your body.

You are not alone.

This shouldn’t be happening. There are clear, unspoken rules to Alastor’s appearances - only when you’re alone, never past 10pm, never when you’re in the bathroom that adjoins your room. And yet, he is here. You can see his smile and his eyes far too clearly. It’s unnatural, the way they shine in the dark.

“I apologize for the late arrival, my dear. It’s been quite a busy day.”

You don’t believe him for a moment. “What do you want?” You’d like to scream at him to get out, but you can’t imagine that would end well.

“Do I have to want something to visit you?” He’s nowhere near the switch by your door, but the light still flickers, a shock to your eyes. It’s quickly extinguished, plunging you back into the dark. “Perhaps I merely enjoy your company.”

His hand is curled tightly around his staff. It’s another wrong thing about this image - he usually doesn’t have that, when he visits you. Your fingers brace against your sheets. You know why he’s here. He knows, somehow, about your little act of rebellion. How he knows…oh. You don’t want to think about that.

“I don’t expect you to return the compliment,” he murmurs, “but you could at least temper that awful glare in your eyes. It’s almost making me want to look away from you.” As he says this, he leans closer, bending at the waist until his unblinking eyes are mere inches from your own. “I always make an effort to control my unpleasant feelings. If I didn’t, I might make you uncomfortable.”

You can’t imagine feeling any less comfortable than you do now, with that terrible grin glowing before you. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness, but you get the feeling that he can see you with perfect clarity.

He straightens up, and uses the tip of his staff to flick back your covers, revealing the clothes you’re wearing underneath. “You must have thought so little of me,” he sighs, “to expect to get away with such a thing.”

You fail to catch your breath before it gasps out of you. He doesn’t sound angry, but you’ve learned that the tone of his voice is a poor indicator for how he’s truly feeling. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes cast down. There’s nothing else to say. You purse your lips, and wait.

“I’ve tried so hard with you,” he continues, as if he hasn’t heard you at all. “I’ve been so patient. And just when I thought I was getting somewhere, you decided to act out.” The tip of his staff catches on the hem of your t-shirt, and you instinctively tug the fabric away.

It’s the wrong thing to do. His grin freezes on his face, its appearance now closer to a grimace than anything else. He rests the end of his staff heavily on the curve of your waist - you stiffen, and raise your hand as if to shove it aside, but quickly think better of it.

“An excellent decision,” he purrs. “I knew you had some sense. I’ve worked very hard to instill it in you, after all. I was just starting to be impressed by your progress…but it appears that there’s still quite a lot of work to be done.” His eyes flash, momentarily glowing an even brighter red, cutting through the darkness between you. “Stand up.”

He withdraws his staff, and although you want nothing more than to pull your covers over your head and pretend this isn’t happening, you instead feel yourself rising to your feet.

“Well done.” His voice is quiet as he steps forward. He’s not touching you - his hands are pulled behind his back, as they often are when he’s close to you. But you can hear his breath, make out every detail of his face despite the absence of light. “I detest being upset with you. I detest that these little things upset me at all. But it seems there’s nothing I can do about that. So.” He leans forward, and smiles indulgently. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s fix this little problem you’ve created, shall we?” His head tilts a bit further than would be natural for anyone else. “If you take those ridiculous things off, we can put all of this nonsense behind us.”

You instinctively take a half-step backwards, only to awkwardly shuffle your foot back to where it was before. The thought of changing back into the slip he gave you makes you shudder, as does the thought of how he might react when he sees you pull it from the floor of your closet, hideously wrinkled. Still, you find yourself nodding in agreement. “Now?”

“Now.” His control over his tone is beginning to waver - his volume oscillates, voice frays with harsh static.

“The slip…” Your voice is small, in stark contrast with the angered scream you were preparing to release just moments before. “It’s in my closet. I can go”-

Alastor abruptly flicks his staff upwards, turning it into a barrier between you and your closet door. “That won’t be necessary.” You feel very small, all of a sudden. You can’t quite tell whether it’s just the way he’s standing, or if he’s truly taller than he was a moment before. There’s an awful cracking noise - his head drops, neck contorts until he’s staring at you from a truly impossible angle. “You ought to listen when I speak to you, my dear.”

The way he says this now, it might as well be a curse. It propels you back, your feet moving of their own accord. But of course, the backs of your legs quickly hit the side of your mattress, leaving you feeling even more trapped than before. For a moment, you’re grasping at stray thoughts, trying to figure out exactly what you did wrong -

Oh. He didn’t say anything about the slip, did he? That was where you jumped in your head. But what he actually said -

Your breath catches, fists clench. You don’t want to be right. You can’t be right - he’s awful, but he wouldn’t make you do that -

“Hm.” Seeing your panicked response seems to calm him somewhat. He straightens, takes a deep breath. The terrible grin seems to shrink just a fraction. When he speaks again his voice sounds just as it always does, rolling off his tongue with the pleasant crackle of long-dead airwaves. “A delightful reaction, as always.” He shakes his head slightly, shiftily glances aside. His gaze returns to you, and there’s that familiar spark, the excitement that you’ve come to fear. “Now…” The tip of his staff catches once more beneath the hem of your shirt, and this time, you don’t even consider brushing it aside. “Off.”

What is wrong with you? You don’t know. You should have something to say, something to yell, a fist or a kick or a back to turn on him. Instead, you only manage a moment of inaction before casting your eyes down and pulling your t-shirt over your head, discarding it on the floor at your feet. You were wearing nothing beneath it. The blood rushes to your face so quickly that you imagine he can see it flowing beneath your bare skin. You can feel it, almost as intensely as you can feel his eyes burning into your face.

Your face, which you slowly, foolishly raise to look up at him.

His eyes do not wander. He is staring, yes, but at your expression more than anything else. His gaze is fixed and impassive, with much less appreciation than the night before, when you were clothed in the modest garment he’d conjured. There’s something in his eyes - vindication, perhaps - but nothing more than that, even now. His hands are behind his back, and show no signs of stirring.

“Go on.”

He’s certainly enjoying this. But not for any reason that makes sense to you. In his mind, you think, this is fair. To make you regret what you’ve done, in the cruelest, most humiliating way possible - to him, there’s nothing wrong with it. You should have been good. Then, this all could have been avoided.

Is that what you think? That this is your fault? You’re not sure. You don’t want to think about it. You move mechanically, sliding your fingers between your underwear and your waistband, tugging your sweatpants down your legs and nearly losing your balance as you step out of them.

“Well done.” He says this, just as you stumble, just before you catch yourself, and it’s so condescending that you’re seeing red. But it’s not like you can say anything about it. You seem to have lost your ability to speak entirely. “Now. If you can manage it, I would prefer for you to look at me, instead of at your floor.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your lip. Your arms are hanging at your sides. You cross them as you look up, but a gentle glove on your wrist sends them falling. You’re glaring, but it must appear more petulant than anything else, because he only laughs when he sees it.

“Just one more thing, my dear.” He leans forward, strokes one finger over the thin cotton that clings to your hip. His touch is so light that you can barely feel it, but it’s still enough to instantly tense every muscle in your body, to straighten out any slack that was left in the posture of your spine. “These didn’t come from me either, did they?”

You shudder, and set your jaw. Speak through barely parted lips. “No.”

“Don’t look away,” he murmurs. “You’ve nothing to fear, so long as you behave yourself.” He waits patiently until you force yourself to look into his eyes. They’re shining, and his grin, too, is far too bright, a lurid yellow gash in the dark. “If I intended to harm you tonight, you would already be well aware of it.”

Where are your hands? You realize that they’re clasped behind your back; the realization sickens you for reasons that you don’t take the time to understand. As if in a trance, you bring them forward, let them fall against your hips. He doesn’t need to say anything more - only to watch as you pry the last scrap of clothing from your body. When you’re done, you stand with your head bowed, praying that he doesn’t ask you to look up again.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything at all. Only sighs, satisfied, and lightly drags the tip of his staff up the side of your body - the outside of your thigh, your waist, your ribcage, your neck - and then presses it gently under your jaw, silently compelling you to raise your head.

You try to summon anger to your eyes, but find that you can only stare blankly, waiting.

“I almost wish I could stay upset with you,” he sighs, letting his staff drop to his side. “It would make things so much less complicated, if I could simply refuse to forgive you…” His chest rises, falls. “And yet, I can barely stomach the thought.” For just a moment, his eyes flutter shut. His fist falls from behind his back to clench at his side. He takes another slow, deep breath. Then, his eyes slowly open, their red light dim and hazy. “No…I couldn’t let you go, even if I tried.”

You’re rigid, feet frozen to the floor as he leans over and kisses you gently on the forehead - he doesn’t touch you anywhere else, but you feel that perhaps you’d prefer that to this. You’d understand it better, at least. You’d understand exactly what you were scared of.

You don’t think he quite understands what he’s doing, either. He looks almost confused, when he pulls back. Rattled, almost as much as you are. But he quickly suppresses it, the daze in his eyes replaced with the familiar vicious spark. “You look exhausted, my dear. I would apologize for waking you so suddenly, but I’m afraid it was necessary. I’m sure you understand.”

He stares until you nod in agreement.

“Lovely.” He pauses for a moment, then goes on with a lowered voice. “I’m sure I’ll have no need to do it again.”

Again, you nod mutely. It was a question, and one that you can easily answer.

“I certainly have no need to keep you awake any longer tonight.” He gestures to the mattress behind you. “Time for bed.”

You don’t think you’re going to fall asleep any time soon, but you still reach behind you to awkwardly pull back the covers. You do not turn around.

“Hm… ” His eyes narrow, grin twitches at the corners. “It’s a warm night, my dear. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable without anything covering you.”

There’s nothing to be done. You sit down, swing your legs over your covers, and lay on your back. Arms at your sides, although you itch to wrap them around yourself. You vaguely register that you are cold, but that barely matters. Perhaps you’re not cold at all. You could be shuddering for any number of reasons.

He leans over you one final time. “Sleep well, darling.” His eyes do not waver from your face. Nor do they blink. You’re not sure if they ever have. “You’re quite a restless sleeper…I do hope that you have better dreams tonight.”

By the time you’ve processed what, exactly, he’s just told you, he has shrunken into the shadows before your eyes, and silently disappeared. You lay stiffly on top of your blankets, and stare up at the ceiling. You do not move, and you certainly do not cover yourself, even as the chill seeps under your skin. When you do fall asleep, hours later, your dreams are cryptic, tinged in a red glow, full of shadows and whispers in voices that are almost familiar, but far too distorted to make out.

When you wake up, you’re shocked to see that your discarded clothes are still lying on the floor. Shocked - but not relieved. It only means that the task of their disposal has been left to you.

#alastor x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #tw yandere #tw invasion of privacy #tw abuse of power

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goodqueenaly · 1 month

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I posted about it a few days ago, but if you haven’t seen, Steven Attewell, perhaps better known on here as @racefortheironthrone, just passed away.

Steven Attewell wasn’t just a great writer and analyst (though he obviously was), nor just a great podcaster (though he was that too), nor just a great academic mind (though he was that as well). Attewell was a supremely kind, thoughtful, funny, and upstanding human being, someone I was very fortunate to call my dear friend. Hardly a day or two went by without one of us bouncing ideas for an essay or post off the other, or swapping some historical trivia, or sharing thoughts about the latest MCU project. When I got engaged, he was one of the first people I told, and whenever I, say, read a book about New York’s gilded age, or listened to a podcast episode about Reginald Pole, or learned that some Americans were still using hand crank phones into the 80s (no, really), I often thought “Attewell would appreciate that”.

Even now, it seems utterly surreal to think of him as passed. Just a week before he died, I had been telling him how much my fiancé adored his X-Men ‘97 podcast. A few days before, he and I had been joking about the recent east coast earthquake. I knew how excited he was about his “Tyrion IX” ASOS CBC essay, since he and I had been discussing it in the weeks before he died, and his Tumblr posts right to the end displayed that same high quality you could always expect from him. I keep waiting for my messenger app to pop up with his name again, or his familiar avatar to appear at the top of my Tumblr feed with another ask from him.

We have lost a giant of the ASOIAF community, but far more importantly, we have lost a very good person. Read some of Attewell’s works - “Who Stole Westeros” is a seminal piece IMO, as is his CBC analysis of “Eddard XI”, but you can’t go wrong with anything he wrote, and if I tried to list every piece I could recommend from him it would be a novel in itself. Listen to some of his podcasts or vlogs - his excitement over X-Men ‘97 is infectious. Keep reading and writing, just as he was doing. Miss him and grieve, by all means, but know that for the many people, myself included, he inspired and touched and interacted with, his memory and impact won’t be forgotten.

#racefortheironthrone

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robbie-wallis · 30 days

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I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can

Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.

I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.

If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.

But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.

Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.

Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.

WATCHER HISTORY

You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".

They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.

Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.

Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.

Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.

They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.

Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.

Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.

Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.

They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.

THE DEMISE

So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.

Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.

The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.

Comparable to Netflix.

And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.

Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.

From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.

They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.

Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.

Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.

Why did they do this?

Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.

A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.

The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.

In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.

WHY IT WILL NOT WORK

Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.

I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.

This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all

Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.

The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.

The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.

Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.

Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.

Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.

The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".

And... IN THIS ECONOMY?

Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.

This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.

If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.

Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.

This ain't Netflix, y'all

As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.

Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.

You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.

We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.

Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.

They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.

I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.

They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.

Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.

This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.

This ain't good marketing, y'all

They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.

Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.

Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.

If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.

Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.

A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?

The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.

This ain't good financial management, y'all

I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.

I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.

This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.

Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.

They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.

They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.

They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.

By leaving YouTube they've lost:

Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)

Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.

Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.

Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?

And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.

I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.

This ain't nice, y'all

Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.

Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.

I get it.

Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.

They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.

These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.

They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.

They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.

"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"

You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.

In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".

They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.

Can it get worse? Sure!

We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.

The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.

Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.

The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.

This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)

Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.

If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.

But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.

They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.

People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.

Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.

Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.

Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.

Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.

Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.

This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.

What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.

They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.

And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.

Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?

The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.

That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?

The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.

They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?

I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.

I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.

EDIT:

I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.

Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.

Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.

I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.

No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.

That's just not the reality.

Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.

#watcher #ghoul boys #steven lim #watcher entertainment #shane and ryan #ghost files

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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hi neil! me again. won't be asking you for friend of dorothy origin sources this time promise. i also saw your talks at slu w a friend but they seem to have lost my question card so ill try here!

as someone whomst ppl seem incapable of being normal about, either worshipping the ground you walk on or despising you w a level of vitriol that seems disproportionate to your flaws, what advice do you have for aspiring writers who themselves might garner similar audiences on how to navigate intense parasocial relationships?

I guess the biggest piece of advice I have is it's only Chinatown. And for Chinatown, you can substitute Twitter or Tumblr or whatever.

I remember about seven years ago watching a post I'd made on Twitter turning into a dogpile. And it was particularly weird because in order for people to get upset enough to dogpile they had to pretend I meant something that I obviously didn't by it. And there were lots of people in the dogpile going "well, it would be rational not to take this absolutely literally but we now need to get shouty" and I was about to get very upset when my newish baby flipped himself onto his back for the very first time. And the Twitter nonsense became very trivial. And a day or two later it was forgotten.

There are people who have a relationship of some kind with someone they think I am, and those people don't really know me. And they aren't really part of my life. Whether they hate me or they love me. My friends are and my family are.

Or to put it another way, I remember a decade ago posting on Twitter that I was lonely. I had gone off on my own to write and I hadn't seen anyone in a few weeks. Someone replied incredulous that I could be lonely with hundreds of thousands of people following me and replying on Twitter, and I replied asking if anyone could bring me a cup of tea. But nobody did.

Nobody will.

And that's okay.

(And that's not to diminish actual relationships where you haven't met the person you are talking to in the flesh. But it's also, as the many catfish scams demonstrate, also not always the relationship you think you are in.)

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lalal-99 · 2 months

Text

of sex at parties {h.j.} | track 4

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6k

Synopsis: The one where you play Truth or Drink and things get a little heated.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I know, I know... I wanted to have shorter chapters and update more frequently. But life happens. And it just so happens that I rediscovered my love for music making and production (not that anyone cares or even reads my notes). These things tend to engulf me fully and don't let me go until I'm forced out of them. When will I post the next chapter? Who knows? Could be tomorrow. Could be in two months (not likely...).

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

“That’s almost too easy! Fuck Psy, Marry Bang PD and Kill JYP. Next!”

Yuqi’s answer sent Hwasa into a fit of laughter, almost bursting her pipes as she spat her drink into the nearby sink.

“Girl, you got some explaining to do about that.” When Wheein had prompted the blonde, she likely hadn’t expected an answer within two seconds.

“What do I have to explain about that? JYP was the obvious choice for Kill. Psy is famously known as the mother-father gentleman, so Fuck. And Bang PD…He has that TXT money. So, marry him and hopefully prevent him from signing any kind of prenup.” Yuqi took a sip from her cocktail, shrugging. The answer sent Hwasa straight into another breathless cough while her girlfriend steadied her. Otherwise she would have also sent her head straight into the marble countertop.

Two hours of dancing and three of Yuqi’s mysteriously strong cocktails after your arrival, you found yourself back in the kitchen. While all your closest friends surrounded you, everything seemed just a bit brighter. And a bit more funny too, with the alcohol running through your system. You were so relaxed even, you had somehow agreed to playing a few rounds of Truth or Drink. That you barely knew these people, or maybe because of it, you found yourself enjoying it more than usual.

So much so you had played it for the past 20 minutes, passing around questions with one simple rule. Either answer or empty your drink.

Sure, the gamification of drinking wasn’t the most intelligent decision. But it also gave you the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. So, what the heck!

“Okay, fair.”

Yuqi spun the bottle once Wheein had passed her answer as acceptable. The rim landed on Changbin this time, the only male in your group. Leaned back against the counter, you had almost forgotten he was present. Well, almost, hadn’t it been for his visible affection for Yuqi. He always laughed at her answers a bit too loud, looked at her a little too long. She had ignored him for the most part, though you doubted it was out of spite or disinterest. She didn’t even realise his attempt to grab her attention; too drunk and into the game.

Changbin waited for her question, watching her lips move as she phrased it seconds later.

“Body count. Go!”

A little cliché, yes, though the boy seemed indifferent about it.

“Depends. What body count are we talking about?” Changbin counter-questioned as he crossed his buff arms over his bottle.

“What kind of freaky stuff are you into that you have several types of body count?”

Redness spread from Changbin’s cheeks to his ears as he shifted.

“I’m not into anything weird,” he defended, embarrassed by her suggestion. “I was talking more about sex or, like, mouth and hand stuff.”

“Alright. Let’s do sex.” That gave him base to answer.

“Then two.”

“Two?” Hwasa was surprised, leaning forward as she propped herself onto the countertop. She was a little shaky, swaying back and forth on her elbows.

“Yes. You sound shocked.”

“Why so few?” Yuqi’s filter had subsided somewhen between drinks four and five. The words simply tumbled out of her mouth at this point.

“Because,” Changbin shifted his weight onto the other leg, stalling. Not that his answer was particularly weird as it was double your body count, after all. But you couldn’t deny your own surprise. Until now, he had seemed very sure of himself. Carrying himself with a fair amount of self-confidence; almost oozing sex-appeal. You, too, had expected his body count to be much higher. “I don’t sleep with anyone I’m not involved with. I had two long-term relationships in High School, back-to-back. So, two people’s not weird.”

“What about the hand and mouth stuff body count?”

Changbin smirked at Yuqi’s curiosity, bringing his bottle to his lips, “Only one question per round.”

“Suspicious,” Yuqi’s eyes narrowed, “but alright.”

“Great, my turn then.” Changbin spun the bottle and the cap-part landed on Hwasa. She straightener her back, daringly waving her hands at him.

“Hit me!”

Contemplating his options, Changbin took a few seconds to find an appropriate question. Which wasn’t easy seeing he didn’t know and had barely spoken to her. “Okay. What was the most public place you ever had sex in?” Considering the expected sexual direction this game had taken, the question was fitting.

Hwasa ran her long nails through her hair, eyes fixing on Wheein in deep thought. “There’s been a few. What do you think, babe?”

“I don’t know. The whirlpool at my parent’s house?”

“Nah. That’s still pretty private. Your parents weren’t even home.”

Searching the mental drawers of her brain, Hwasa found a more fitting memory. She sent a knowing look towards her girlfriend, logging in her final answer. “I know. When we did at the movies.”

Wheein cocked an eyebrow as she took a strong sip from her drink. Her gaze, meanwhile, remained fixed on the colourful liquid, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah... That wasn’t me.”

“Of course it was!” Hwasa exclaimed, gesturing with her hands to revive the memory. “We watched that awful Tom Cruise movie.”

“I’ve never seen a Tom Cruise movie in my life.”

Hwasa should have left it at that, but her intoxicated brain didn’t take the hint. Knowing the crucial details of their backstory together—courtesy to Yuqi and her impressive interrogational skills—you sent her warning glares. Though she was too focused on her girlfriend to notice.

As extroverted as you had learned her to be, Hwasa had her fair share of relationships in the past. She had been with many men and women alike; some more serious and others not so much. Like her friends-with-benefits situation with Jackson, for example. After dating a lot through High School and the first two years of college, she eventually met Wheein. They loved each other very much, as anyone could tell after spending a few hours with them. An unspoken dynamic remained nonetheless, with Wheein being far less experienced.

She had been with men only for the first 20 years of her life. It took her another year to realise why her interest in them had never stuck. And another year after that to come to terms with her sexuality. That’s when she met Hwasa, their eventual relationship the first serious one she had ever been in. Let alone with a woman.

For as much as they loved each other, Wheein became insecure whenever Hwasa mentioned her previous partners.

So, yes. Hwasa should have probably let it be. But she didn’t.

“Erm, we sure did. I can’t believe you don’t remember. We got one of those loveseats in the last row, but the movie was so bad we started making out and stuff.” She didn’t need to explain and stuff further for you to know what she was hinting at. “I distinctly remember because my hair kept tangling up in your earrings. Almost lost an ear for sex that day.”

Clearing her throat, Wheein stepped back to lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Wasn’t me. See.” She lifted her hair, showing her ears to her girlfriend. It took a few seconds to realise her ears weren’t pierced. “It must have been one of your exes.”

A veil of tension spread over you at the hint of malaise in her voice. Hwasa’s cheeks heated up, a manicured nail between her teeth at the realisation.

“Oops.”

Despite the music blasting through the speakers, the silence was thick. It broke only once Yuqi spoke up. You had never been happier about her ability to find the place to pick up previous conversations.

“I had sex in a whirlpool once.” Heads turned in her direction as her face scrunched up at the memory. “Very sexy, but not comfortable. And then there’s the issue of protection. Who in their right mind carries a condom when sitting in a whirlpool?”

“So? What did you do?” Changbin’s curiosity was very sparked.

“We took a chance.” A shockwave overtook the crowd as though Yuqi had said something controversial. “I know. I’m not proud of it, either. But as I said, it was very sexy, and we didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“I definitely do not recommend taking a chance. Especially not for the sake of not ruining the mood.”

All eyes turned to you as you spoke, only acknowledging your words once they had come out of your mouth. Maybe you should go slower on the alcohol, as your body started to act on its own account.

“Speaking from experience?” Hwasa questioned with a smirk as you took another sip from your drink before finally setting it down.

“A friend of mine,” you explained, crossing your arms as you leaned against the fridge behind you. “She winged it once and got pregnant.”

“Damn! How old was she?”

“14 and a half.”

“That’s rough. Did your friend keep it?”

“He’s turning four in November.”

Most colour drained from Yuqi’s face at those words and a shudder ran through her body. “Now I’m kinda glad the only thing I got from my story was a cold.”

The crowd fell into a bunch of giggles at Yuqi’s honesty, the tensive mood finally fading. She should consider her ability to cut right through tension a gift.

Your gaze tiptoed through the doorway into the living area where they met a familiar figure. Over the past half-hour, you had searched his attention on occasion. The alcohol in your system encouraged the search for proximity to Jisung. Now that you had reached the early morning hours, the crowd started dissolving, and it became much easier for you to follow his movements. That he had the same urge for your closeness hadn’t gone by you. Several longing gazes had found you, which the vibrating egg inside you had at least some part in.

Jisung was still with most of his friends—sans Changbin, who was with you, and Felix, who had left a while ago. Instead, a few girls had entered the chat, most prominently a girl around your age and height. Why was she so prominent? Well, she seemed to find anything and everything your boyfriend said hilarious. She threw her black bob-cut-hair back so much, you feared she'd break her neck. She had started a conversation with your boyfriend earlier and now hung on his every word.

While you had checked their whereabouts at first, you stopped once you noticed Jisung’s nonverbal cues. The constant gazes your way and his lip wandering between his teeth with every uncomfortable chuckle. They told you he did anything but enjoy the banter the skimpily-clad girl had engaged him in.

Your suspicion proved correct when Jisung reached into his pocket and the vibrations picked up. Reassurance, that while he was talking to someone else, his mind was still entirely with you.

You probably should have helped out your boyfriend. You knew he couldn’t act on his unwillingness to continue talking to her. Though Jisung had to learn to handle such situations at some point. And you were having such a blast with your friends, so you let him be. The group was still debating their most public sexcapades and your head turned back as your lips wrapped around your bottle.

Apparently, your diverting glances hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you not bothered by that?”

Looking down at yourself, you feared your outfit had malfunctioned in some way. You knew you shouldn’t have worn a skirt to a frat party, but Yuqi had convinced you out of your faded black jeans. You always wear them. Spice it up a little. Unbeknownst to her, you had already spiced it up, the egg inside you rubbing against your walls with delicious pressure. But you still let yourself be talked into the skirt. Now, you regretted all your life decisions as a group of people stared at you.

“Why? What is it?” You searched your outfit for the origin of Hwasa’s statement.

“I’m talking about your boyfriend. Talking to another girl.”

You found the two of them again, eyes wandering up and down the girl’s sporty figure. Her long legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that reached her narrow waist. A crop top and pair of spotless white sneakers rounded off her athletic look. Her hand ran through her jet-black hair and that was all it took to detect that she was flirting. If her longing glances at Jisung hadn’t already been hint enough.

“And a pretty one,” Yuqi added as you focused on the group again, shaking your head.

“Not really, no. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. I’d be if it were my girlfriend, talking to her.” Wheein blushed at Hwasa’s words, damage control overshadowing her previous insecurity.

“I wouldn’t be too worried,” Changbin interjected, grabbing your attention. “She’s been coming on to each of us at least once tonight. She started off with Chris and made her way down the line.”

“Even if she didn’t. They’re only talking.” You met Jisung’s gaze, his lips morphing into a smile once he noticed. The vibrations spiked on cue, and it took a little more focus from you not to react. “I trust him.”

Little could have destroyed the trust you had for each other. Either of you understood that you had gotten lucky. Being with your best friend and finding your soulmate this early on. Apart from that, neither of you had ever given the other a reason to mistrust them. You were smart enough to not let anything risk what you had.

When Jisung excused himself from the group, your sense of awareness was proven yet again. He left the girl mid-conversation to join your separate party which filled you with pride. His cheeks squished into their usual round shape as he beamed at you until he landed at your side.

“Are you talking about me, or am I so pretty you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin landed on your shoulder. “It’s when he says things like that, that I know I’m stuck with him for life.”

The girls and Changbin chuckled at your words, Jisung meeting your gaze with a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby. I love you.”

The stupid grin forming on his lips warmed your heart. “Love you, too.”

Your group picked up their game of Truth or Drink while your boyfriend stood wrapped around you. You tried focusing while Hwasa spun the bottle to land on you. The alcohol in your system caused a constant buzz, goosebumps rising as she asked you about secret kinks.

Your friends went positively berserk when you told them about your exhibitionistic tendencies. Not you. Not well-behaved Y/N, who never even swore. You refrained from further mentioning how you sometimes ditched underwear in everyday situations. Yuqi’s eyes would have probably bulked out of her skulls, comic-book-style. You also didn’t note your fondness of public play, fearing Hwasa would suffocate, forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry, but I can’t believe we could walk in on you two getting your freak on, entering a lecture hall. Or the cafeteria. Or the football court. Although…Would we walk out on you in that case?” Hwasa questioned once she had found the brainpower to pick her jaw up from the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you told your friend in amusement. “We’re pretty good at hiding. You wouldn’t even know we’re there.”

A whole new set of toxins filled your bloodstream as you talked something so dirty. Quickening palpitations were enforced by your boyfriend, pulling you closer against himself. The mere mention of your spicy secret was enough to drive him crazy. He seemed even more excited, being the only one knowing you were living your kink right that second.

Your very sexy, very tempting boyfriend shared your interest in all things exhibitionist. Although you usually kept the PDA down whenever around people. Sure, you exchanged kisses here and there. But even hugging typically only occurred when no one was around. It was somewhat precautional. So people around you weren’t even slightly suspicious when you decided to go commando. Or if either of you controlled whatever Bluetooth vibrator the other was wearing. No one would suspect anything like that from the couple that hardly held hands in public.

Your friends accepted your revelation after many more questions, which remained unanswered. They went off-topic—or rather, off you as the focus of it—as they debated their willingness to have sex in public. And you didn’t dare complain.

This way, no one noticed Jisung’s hand creeping up the back of your thigh until he reached your ass. He kissed the back of your neck, blowing cool air against the moist skin as it tickled you. Trying to stay calm and keep your secret antics secret from your friends was half the fun. You bit the inside of your cheek as his breath tickled you, his teeth soon moving to nibble at your earlobe.

The two of you swayed to the music, concealing your ass which was grinding against his growing bulge. It was no surprise when you felt him stiffen against the movement, a proud smirk appearing on your face.

Your ability to turn each other on in seconds was still as present as during the first few weeks together.

“Baby,” Jisung hummed against your ear, hands grabbing your hips to still you.

“Mhm.”

The music was loud, and the people around you were drunk enough so no one could follow your conversation.

“It’s been about three hours of me playing with you like this. How about we tend to that upstairs bedroom situation?”

“I don’t know.” The wondering tone in your voice was fake, teasing, and Jisung could tell. “I’m not convinced. Also, kinda having a blast here.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of conviction,” Jisung whispered, lips wandering over your neck. His hands travelled under your shirt, fingers digging into your flesh as he manhandled you towards the exit. “It’s been over a week since we last did it. You’re as desperate as I am.”

“Am I?”

“We should go upstairs. You know, to check.”

Inspecting your surroundings, right now seemed the best possible moment to leave. Everyone was deep in conversation, attention straying from the two of you.

“Okay. But let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the party.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna be real fast.”

Jisung took you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase at the back of the room. You looked back at the group as Oohs and Get Its were thrown your way and gave your friends a thumbs up.

From that moment on, your mind was on Jisung.

You ran up the stairs behind him, and into the dim, unoccupied hallway. Once you had ensured you were on your own, you pulled Jisung back to finally kiss him.

His hands came to your hips on impact, keeping you steady against him as your mouth opened to let him in. Tongues intertwining and teeth clashing, he stepped forward, pushing you against the wall. Jisung didn’t take a breather, grinding himself against you and giving you no time to think. People could have come out of one of the rooms at any point, catching you. Not a hint of secrecy remained as the alcohol and your boyfriend’s tasted roamed your veins.

Soon enough, his mouth travelled down your jaw, tongue meeting the skin of your throat in a longing suck. He went all in, his hands running up your body until he met your breasts. The pressure against your throat provoked a throaty moan.

You hummed at his actions, feeling even more desperate for his full attention.

With your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer to your chest, his lips soon pressed against your cleavage. It reddened under his kisses and your breathing accellerate as he rubbed over your nipples. H knew your body better than you, strong arms keeping you in place as he handled you the way that always made you go crazy. Made you crave him.

“Baby—” you groaned into the air, head thrown back to grant him more access to your neck.

“Told you, you were as desperate as me.” The smugness in his voice remained uncommented as both his hands dipped under your bra. He pinched your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and you ground yourself against him. A gush of wetness filled your panties as though they weren’t already soaked. It had been hours of him, controlling the vibrations inside you. “I bet you’re leaking out of your panties.” Jisung’s hand ran down your side until it reached the edge of your skirt. He felt below it, fingers dancing over your hot skin until his palm landed at your centre, cupping you. A groan left his lips. “Mhm, just like I said. You’re dripping.”

“Fine. You caught me,” you admitted with a sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, though?”

His face remained close as he turned the vibrations to the max, giving you no chance to prepare. Bending your knees at the rush of pleasure, you moaned into his mouth, pleading up at him. With his hand still cupping you, he could feel every contraction of your walls. Two of his fingers pushed the egg deeper into you. His palm against your clit further increased the electricity coursing through your veins.

“Did you say something?” Your mind blurred from the vibrations as mumbled pleas tumbled over your lips. Jisung smirked at your inability to form words, the toy slowing down after a while. “Didn’t think so.”

When he opened the door to the first bedroom he found, you followed him inside. Before he could even ask you to strip, you were already starting to undress. You were about to take your skirt off when Jisung stopped you with a request you couldn’t find it in you to deny.

“Leave it on.”

Of course, your insatiable, horny boyfriend would want to fuck you in a mini-skirt. You hadn’t worn anything that short in years. Add stockings and a cropped Rolling Stones shirt, and this would have come close to the outfit you had met him in.

Jisung removed his clothes, tight jeans requiring more attention as he struggled pushing them over his erection. After watching him take forever to rid himself of the confines, you decided to help him. Guiding his hands away from his crotch, you took over. A suggestive smile played on your lips as you held eye contact, dragging the pants over him and down his toned legs.

He expected you to lay back down once he was freed, letting him push you back into submission. Though, you had other plans at that moment.

Stripping your boyfriend of his briefs, his length looked too delicious to let the moment go by. So, you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

First, you concentrated on the head. You let the tip of your tongue dance over him before adding further lip action. After mere seconds, he was red and swollen, droplets of white crawling down the sides. He was twitching against your lips, head rolling back at the delightful dissatisfaction. Slow-paced ministrations were as arousing to him as they were frustrating, so you already expected his irritation.

Not a minute later, Jisung’s hands crept to the back of your head, attempting to guide you further down. In the current power position you found yourself in, you wouldn’t have any of that.

“Don’t move, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“’s not enough,” Jisung mumbled but complied, hands resting on your cheeks instead. “I need more.”

“I know. Just enjoy.”

You moved back to his head, sucking at him as your fingers dug into his thighs. They twitched against your touches, every other suck making him weak in the knees as they buckled.

Once Jisung started panting, you sped up, fitting more of him into your mouth. You could tell it became harder for him to hold back, hips bucking into your mouth on occasion. You didn’t stop him, enjoying his despair for the warmth and the lustful sight only you could provide him with. It made you feel powerful, the dominant side overtaking the logical one as you took him as deep as possible.

Gagging around him, a breathy “Fuck!” escaped him as he got oh so close to his orgasm. At some point, he must have taken the remote control out of his pocket. As he was nearing the edge, the vibrations increased, causing a moan to slip past your lips and around his length. He stifled an ecstatic scream with the back of his hand.

Your performance suffered for a mere second and Jisung took the opportunity to pull out. With new-found energy, he shoved you to lay on your back.

Typically, you held the more dominant position in bed. Sending your boyfriend to heaven by riding him like there was no tomorrow. All the more exciting was it when Jisung was so on edge he couldn’t stand your teasing. When he couldn’t wait to be inside you. That’s when he used his physical superiority to overpower you and have it his way.

You definitely had a soft spot for how he dominated you when he was particularly desperate.

With your back against the mattress and his arms on either side of your waist, there was no way for you to get up. Jisung used this advantage to connect his mouth to your breast, sucking at your nipple like you loved. Your eyes rolled back at the incredible sensitivity of each of his touches. After spending significant time at your chest—granting both sides the same amount of attention—he kissed his way further down. He flipped your skirt up and over your stomach, your underwear long stripped and you left exposed.

Desperate to get inside you, you expected him to remove the vibrator and replace it with himself. When he started kissing your thighs and stomach, you were surprised. Though you didn’t dare complain. Not when his lips burned your skin, threatening to leave lingering marks.

“So sweet.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear the whispered words against your core. The smile creeping onto your face turned to a loud moan as Jisung dove in. His lips found your clit, wrapping around it in a harsh hug. When he started sucking on you, the vibrations speeding up again, you believed you saw stars.

Your vision blurred, eyes moving to watch him, but you could barely make out shapes. Too overwhelming was his mouth on you, hips soon rolling against him to urge for more speed. A smirk against your flesh was followed by him repositioning your legs over his shoulders. It made him feel so much closer, your bodies basically becoming one. His mouth practically glued to your cunt.

At first, Jisung kept an agonising slow pace, eating you like he had all the time in the world. After a while, as your breathing sped up, so did your boyfriend’s mouth. For every count that your heartbeat accelerated, so did he. Licking a little preciser, sucking a little fiercer. All the while, he was grinding against the mattress, chasing his own release which was fast approaching. So much so you could tell from the humming against your core that sent shivers up your spine.

“Sungie—” you breathed out, hand coming to his hair to stop him. “Baby. Inside. Please.”

As he didn’t react at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you. You repeated your pleas, and finally, with a wall-tightening pull on your clit, he removed his lips from you. “I heard you the first time. Just couldn’t bring myself to stop yet.”

His words caused a breathy chuckle out of you as he took the vibrator out of you before kissing his way back up your body.

“You have protection?” you questioned as your fingers grazed his cheeks, heart eyes staring into your boyfriend’s.

“Always.” Connecting your lips in a soft kiss, Jisung got up for a few seconds to search his pants.

“Good thing we’re always prepared, huh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched your boyfriend take his wallet out of his pocket. All the talking about public sex and taking chances had unlocked some long overwritten memories, and you chuckled with an uncomfortable shiver. “At least now we are.”

The look on Jisung’s face faltered as he went through every compartment of his wallet. Once, twice, and then a third time. You could tell from his expression that something was wrong. “Actually, about that…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have condoms.”

“It seems like I forgot to fill up my stock. Don’t you have one with you?” Jisung asked, searching for your clothes on the bedroom floor.

“Have you seen my outfit? I barely have enough room for my phone.”

“Oh, I have seen your outfit, alright.” A suggestive smirk followed his reply as he climbed back over your body. “That skirt is doing things to me I can’t possibly put into words.”

Kissing you with more passion, Jisung’s lips soon wandered down your neck again.

“I could pull out.”

The laugh coming through your lips as you tilted your neck for better access was much sarcastic. “Have you learned nothing from the past? We are not taking chances.”

“So, we’re supposed to not have sex instead? Have you learned nothing from the past 20 minutes? We need this.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, view roaming through the room. Jisung’s gaze said something along the lines of ‘You have a plan, right?’. And a plan you had. Rolling out from under your boyfriend, you crawled over to the nightstand. “What’s one thing every frat always has at hand?” You pulled open the upper drawer, feeling its content as a smile spread on your lips. “I knew it.”

With an overjoyed “Yes!”, Jisung grabbed the silver square from your hands, opening it with his teeth. “This screams for a celebration?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The ambiguous grin crossing your boyfriend’s face made you curious and aroused you simultaneously. From experience, you knew his ideas in this area never quite disappointed. Most of them added into your bedroom routine; adapted into your standard practices.

Jisung soon crawled back over your body, erection pressing against your entrance as he held the vibrator between his fingers. “Baby?”

“Ssh.” One of his fingers came to your mouth as he smiled at you, happy. “Just enjoy.”

When he slipped inside you, your walls instantly wrapped around him. Sculptured for his exact shape and size. Having him this close, hitting your spot as though he himself had placed it right at his tip, filled you with complete satisfaction. You could have remained in this position for hours. Being close to him. Warming him. Though soon enough, the calm inside you was forced to evacuate, the electrifying vibration of the pink egg meeting your clit.

You jumped at the feeling that was only enforced as Jisung started moving. Rapidly. Sending you to heaven within seconds as you crumbled around him. Nothing but his name escaped your lips, like a holy mantra.

It didn’t take either of you long to finish, both of you on edge from having waited over a week to be together like this. Which, quite frankly, rarely happened. And when the orgasm finally hit, toes curling and walls crashing, it sent him into his own high.

It took you minutes to come back down to earth.

“Damn.” You chuckled, agreeing, and your eyes met when you tilted your head to look up at him. You rested on his chest as it rose in unison with your breathing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy before you pulled away to get up from the bed.

“You want to go back already?”

While you retrieved your clothes from the floor, your boyfriend still laid in bed, naked, propped up on his elbows. “What? You need more aftercare or something?”

“Nah. I thought you might. That was really intense just now.”

You pulled your top over your head, tugging it in your skirt before strutting towards him. With your fists planted on the mattress, you bowed over him, giving him a long, heated kiss. He bit your lip as you drew away, one of his hands coming to your jaw to keep you still.

“I need to pee.”

“Wow,” Jisung replied with a giggle, letting go of your face. “You’re nailing the dirty talk, baby.”

You blew a kiss at him as you walked to the door, leaving the room to find a bathroom.

A long hallway with a handful of doors on each side opened before you. The house was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, fitting around a dozen people. And that was just the first floor. Any of these doors could lead to a bathroom but this was somewhat urgent. So, you opted for a rushed yet systematic approach.

You chose the door next to the one you had come out of, finding nothing but an empty bedroom. Much like the one your boyfriend was currently dressing in. The door after that was some form of storage unit, the only thing close to a toilet a bucket on the floor. If your search came up empty, you might revisit the idea.

One after another door led to more disappointment. Not until you opened the last door on the left side you found a room that wasn’t an unoccupied bedroom. It still was a bedroom—very much so—but it wasn’t even close to vacant.

The layout came into focus, illuminated by a ring light standing in the corner. As you further roamed the room, you spotted two bodies pressed together in the comfort of one of the two beds. You had no idea how you even got a close enough look to realise you knew one of the two people. It was likely your eyes, meeting for a second. That’s when you recognised his signature freckles, his face dropping as panic overshadowed.

“I’m sorry.” As fast as you had entered the room, you left it, eyes wide in confusion and surprise. It took you less than a few seconds to add two and two together.

Before you could think further about it, you got pulled out of your haze by none other than your boyfriend.

“Found a bathroom, baby?”

“Huh?” He tiptoed towards you and a grin spread on his features as he inspected a stinging hickey on your neck.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t find one.” You smiled as he pulled you closer, kissing the dark mark. “I’ll use the one downstairs.”

“Let’s get back then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right?” A wink followed his question which you didn’t have the mind to return properly. You couldn’t quite forget what you had seen, hands entangling with your boyfriend’s as you threw one last look back into the hallway.

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