#and ofc i wanted there to be some (read: a lot of) red in here too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pitlanepeach · 2 months ago

Text

From Eden | Chapter Five (5/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety + telling a partner about self harm. Some awkwardness (obviously. it's them.) Kissing!!!!!!!.

Notes — Ohmygod they’re literally insufferable. I love them so much. I wrote half of this in the middle of the night and the rest when I was supposed to be WFH. Don’t tell my boss.

It took twelve minutes — a stuttered conversation about his plane journey (“Boring. I chose the wrong job for a guy who hates travelling so much.”), him tripping over a random stack of books, and Francesca’s uncontrollable burst of laughter at his clumsiness that cracked through the initial awkward tension.

And then it was just… easy. Like they’d known each other forever.

Oscar fit. He fit into her space. Not seamlessly — his legs hung off the edge of the sofa, and he had to duck to get into the kitchen without smacking his head — but somehow, he still fit. Like there had always been a space carved out for him here, quiet and waiting.

“You have a lot of books,” he grunted, rubbing his elbow where he’d caught it on the corner of a shelf after trying (and failing) to avoid another tumble. A faint red blotch bloomed across his cheek.

Francesca pursed her lips in a valiant effort to hide her grin; her cheeks hurt. Had she stopped smiling since he’d arrived? Probably not. “That’s my entire livelihood you’re talking about.”

Oscar gave her a mock-serious nod, eyes twinkling. “My apologies. I guess I just have to get used to feeling like I’m in a library then.”

Francesca raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Correct. Insult the books and you’ll be out on the street faster than you can say ugly orange racecar.”

He grinned at that, dimples flashing. “Papaya,” he corrected, automatically.

“Osc. It’s… so orange,” she told him, gentle and sincere. “They’ve brainwashed you.”

He rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hm. Agree to disagree.”

She huffed her annoyance, but she was smiling, still.

Oscar looked around the flat again, with more intention. Most of the walls were lined with shelves — overflowing, chaotic, personal. Not just books, but little figurines, old mugs repurposed as pen holders, framed photos, postcards, pressed flowers between glass. Her entire world, encompassed inside these four walls.

“I like it here,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her.

Francesca’s smile faltered, just a touch. She studied him, trying to figure out if he meant it — really meant it — or if he was just being kind.

But Oscar met her gaze with something solid. Unwavering.

“I’m glad you let me come,” he added, softer this time. “Really glad.”

Right. Because he really was here.

Not on a screen. Not in the background of a race broadcast. But here, in her flat, stepping over book piles and stealing glances at her like she was the only thing in the room he really wanted to be looking at.

Henry hopped up beside him on the sofa, gave him a cursory sniff, then promptly curled up next to his thigh like he, too, had accepted Oscar's presence as something entirely inevitable.

“You’ve been vetted,” Francesca said, settling in across from them with her knees pulled up.

Oscar tilted his head. “By the cat or by you?”

She smiled. “Both. Congratulations.”

He leaned back, arms stretched out across the cushions, one foot nudging hers gently. “Worth it.”

—

Francesca didn’t mean to end up pressed right up against him on the sofa. It just sort of… happened.

One minute they were sitting side by side, knees brushing slightly whenever she shifted to grab her mug from the coffee table, and the next, she found herself curled against his side, her legs pulled up, tucked comfortably between them, a blanket pooled over both their laps.

Oscar’s arm had moved slowly, almost unsurely at first, but now it was settled around her shins, his big hand warm around her ankle, wrapping around it entirely. His thumb made small, absent-minded circles, like he hadn’t even realised he was doing it. Francesca hadn’t said anything, didn’t want to break this spell they’d found themselves in.

Henry was curled on the rug nearby, snoring faintly. Oscar had tried to bribe him with a treat earlier. The cat had blinked once, disinterested, then strolled off with his tail flicking like a snub.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Oscar murmured, glancing at the feline. “He’s kind of a little bastard, actually.”

Francesca smiled, eyes on the cat. “He’s discerning.”

“Is that the polite word for emotionally unavailable?”

“That,” she agreed, “and slightly spiteful. He liked you when you first got here, but now you’re stealing my attention from him, so…”

Oscar chuckled. “Can’t deny he’s cute. I can see why you love him.”

“I do,” she said simply. Then, after a pause, “He makes me feel safe.”

Oscar glanced down at her, the humour in his expression fading into something gentler. “Yeah?”

Francesca took a breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. He’s quiet — unless he’s hungry and I’ve forgotten his breakfast. Doesn’t expect much. Doesn’t judge me. And he’s just… here, you know? He just exists near me. Always.”

Oscar didn’t speak right away. He didn’t try to fill the silence with something easy or deflecting. Instead, his thumb traced a slow, steady line along her ankle, grounding her.

“He’s taken good care of you, then,” he said, soft but certain.

She turned her head to look at him — really looked. “Yeah. Is that weird?”

“No,” he said firmly, with a tone that very much implied that he wouldn’t accept any different.

His hand left her ankle after a moment, fingers brushing up her leg, light and patient, until they found hers, half-curled on her lap. He picked up one of her hands gently, like it might break.

And maybe it already had; in a way.

He turned it over slowly, thumb grazing the inside of her wrist, then the raw, reddened skin across her knuckles and the side of her palm, the tiny pinch bruises, the white scars. His gaze flicked to hers, suddenly cautious.

Francesca swallowed hard. God, she’d known this would come up eventually. She hadn’t expected them to be so touchy so fast, but it was far too late to pretend this was going to be anything slow-burning. They’d already burned for long enough.

“It’s not— I don’t hurt myself. Not… deliberately.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t stop. “It’s more like… when things get too much, and I don’t know how to handle it, I pick. Scratch. Sometimes I don’t even notice I’m doing it until it’s already bad.” She drew in a breath, unsteady. “It’s been worse before. But this — this is still pretty recent.”

Oscar didn’t let go.

He didn’t flinch or shift away or frown in that way that made people feel like they’d just confessed to something shameful. Instead, he laced their fingers together, slow and certain.

“My parents hated it,” she said after a silent moment. “Whenever they caught me doing anything that made them uncomfortable — biting my nails, needing to leave places early — it was like I was ruining it for them. Like I was an inconvenience on purpose, you know?”

Oscar’s jaw went tight, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I wasn’t allowed to talk about how I was feeling. They didn’t… like hearing it. I had to hide everything. After a while, I started hiding it from myself, too.” She gave his hand a tiny squeeze. “And then, one day, it started manifesting itself in other ways.”

“Like this,” Oscar said gently, brushing a thumb over her hand again.

She nodded, eyes burning. “It’s getting better. I- I hardly do it anymore. I can go months without an issue. I know it’s terrible, I do, but I promise, I can try—.”

“You don’t have to try for me,” he said, voice low as he cut her off, halting her spiral. “Don’t ever have to hide how you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking. You get that?”

Francesca bit her lip, hard. Her chest was tight — not in her usual twisted panic kind of way, but something much, much warmer.

“I’m a bit scared,” she whispered, curling closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and breathing him in. “That you’ll realise how messy I am and… I don’t know. Decide I’m not worth the hassle.”

“You are,” he said, without hesitation.

No pause. No doubt. Just truth.

She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You don’t know that.”

“Kinda do,” Oscar murmured. “I’ve got my mess too. Plenty of it.” He paused, his voice low. “You might be the one who decides I’m not worth it. I can’t promise you a peaceful life, Francesca. I’ll try — I’ll do everything I can to give you something close — but I can’t guarantee anything.”

She shook her head before he could spiral further. “Osc, stop. I know. I already know,” she said gently.

And that was enough.

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, fingers loosely tangled, hearts beating in tandem — not perfectly synced, but close enough. Close enough to mean something.

—

The quiet felt different now.

Francesca sat on the edge of her sofa, staring at the dent Oscar had left in the cushion. Henry had moved to the other end, curled up into a croissant of cat contentment, but it wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

She'd tried brushing her teeth. Tidying. Scrolling on her phone. All of it only filled seconds.

It had been less than an hour since he’d left, and already the air in the flat felt too thin.

She got up and paced, arms crossed over her chest like they could hold her together.

This is ridiculous. He’s five minutes away. Maybe less. But also, you’ve known him for what? Three months? And then, he didn’t want to go either. You saw it on his face.

She reached for her phone, pulled it back, then finally opened FaceTime before she could change her mind.

He picked up on the second ring. His hair was damp, he looked freshly showered, and the hoodie he was wearing sat slightly crooked on his shoulders.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft with surprise. “Everything alright?”

“I—um.” She pressed her lips together and huffed out a laugh. “Is it really weird if I ask you to come back?”

Oscar blinked once, then sat up straighter, the movement making the camera wobble slightly. “No. Not weird.”

“I’m not… asking for anything,” she clarified quickly, heat rising in her cheeks. “I just — I can’t really explain it. I just feel a bit off. I thought I’d be fine. I’ve lived alone for years and it’s never been a problem but now that you were here and now you’re not it just feels—”

“Wrong for me to be five minutes down the road?” he offered gently.

She nodded. “Yeah. Exactly that.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, he smiled — lopsided and warm. “I was hoping you’d say something. Didn’t want to be the one to push my luck.”

“I— Really?” She exhaled.

“I haven’t unpacked,” he admitted. “I’ve just been sitting here staring at the ceiling wondering if it was too soon to text you that I miss you.”

She laughed, the sound raw and relieved. “You’re such a dork.”

“Takes one to know one,” he said, standing up and already reaching for his shoes. “Give me ten minutes. I— should I bring my stuff?”

“Yeah.” She said, without even a second of hesitation. “I’ll leave the front door unlocked.”

Oscar hung up after one last smile in her direction.

Francesca paced again, but this time it was different — tinged with a manic kind of anticipation, her steps light.

When the door creaked open, she was perched on the arm of the sofa, kind of just… staring at it. Waiting.

Oscar stepped inside, shaking his hair out from the light drizzle. “London really rolled out the welcome mat for me, huh?”

“It was wet already,” she said, and then stood there, looking at him. The comfort of his presence settled over her like a favourite hoodie. “Thank you for coming back.”

“I never really left,” he said.

With a snort of derision, she reached for his hand, pulled him toward the couch, and they collapsed into the same dented cushions as earlier — this time, with no awkwardness, no space left between them. She practically curled up on his lap, in a move that was so very Henry of her.

It was late. Early hours of the morning. They were both tired. They didn’t talk much beyond a few whispered words here and there as they watched a random movie that was playing on Channel 4. Just sat, his arm slung around her waist, her fingers toying with the edge of his hoodie. He kissed her temple once, then rested his cheek there.

Easy. Warm.

She wanted it forever.

—

Francesca moved around her kitchen on careful feet, trying not to make too much noise even though Oscar was very much awake — she was wearing one of his hoodies. They’d fallen asleep on the couch, a mess of limbs and cricked necks. When they woke up, she’d shivered, and he’d immediately grabbed his duffle, opened it, and grabbed the first hoodie to hand her. It had a McLaren logo on the front and smelled like him.

The domesticity of it all was throwing her completely off balance.

He looked up from the mug in his hands when she set down two plates — toast, fruit. Not fancy, but easy. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he, not for a few moments.

“You make weird tea,” he said finally, peering into his mug. It had a picture of Henry on it. When he’d chosen it out of the cupboard, she’d had to hide her smile.

She tilted her head at him. “Huh? Weird how?”

“There’s oat milk in it,” he said, nose scrunching slightly.

“I like oat milk,” she replied, matter-of-fact. “You should’ve told me you didn’t. I think I have some powdered cow’s milk in the back of the cupboard somewhere…” She trailed off, glancing toward one of the kitchen cabinets with a furrowed brow.

Oscar coughed, hastily shaking his head. “No—God, no. I’m… yeah. Oat milk is just fine.”

Francesca stared at him for a second, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It’s easy to forget you’re probably used to, like, fancy coffee. Flat whites with milk flown in from Australia or something.”

She reached across the table and plucked a strawberry from his plate with deliberate mischief.

“Be nice about my milk preferences,” she added, popping it into her mouth.

“I am being nice,” he said with a small smile. “I’m drinking it, aren’t I?”

Their knees bumped under the table, lightly, accidentally-on-purpose. Francesca didn’t move hers away. Oscar didn’t either.

His phone buzzed near his elbow, but he didn’t reach for it. Francesca glanced at it, then back at him, then said, “Lando?”

He hummed. “Probably.”

She smiled around her bite of toast. “Aw. He’s your Katie.”

Oscar blinked at her. “My what?”

She laughed softly, a little embarrassed. “You know. The person you text the most. The one who you think about telling big news before anyone else.”

His expression softened, gaze dropping briefly to his plate before lifting again, meeting hers. “I think that’s you now.”

Francesca froze. Not in a bad way — just long enough to feel it settle deep in her chest, warm and a little scary. “Oh.”

Oscar’s foot nudged hers again, gentler this time. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, it’s… very okay.”

They went quiet again, the air between them filled with something lighter now, but thicker, too. Oscar reached out, slowly, fingers brushing the edge of her plate to steal a slice of strawberry. She watched his hand, her gaze lingering as it retreated. And then she reached across and took it — his hand — without fully thinking.

He didn’t flinch. Just let her link their fingers and gave the tiniest squeeze in return.

“So,” he said softly, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You studied English Lit at uni?”

Francesca nodded. Of course he’d noticed the framed certificate stuck to the fridge like a badge of honour. The most expensive fridge magnet in the world.

“Yeah. At York,” she said. “I was going to try and get into the publishing industry, originally. Or proof-editing. But… things changed. I started posting on YouTube a month after graduation, and it just… took off.”

“Did you like studying?” he asked after a beat.

“Sometimes,” she replied, her voice thoughtful. “I liked the content. Loved the books. The theory, the discussions. Hated the actual, like, uni lifestyle though.”

He smiled, just a little. “Too much socialising for you, huh?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Too much everything. People everywhere, all the time. Constant pressure to be on. And drunk. I hated how loud it all was.”

Oscar’s fingers stilled for a second before they moved again, slow and grounding, rubbing circles on her skin. “I didn’t do uni,” he said, eyes flicking down to where their hands sat tangled between them. “Went to boarding school here, in England. Left after GCSEs to focus on racing full time.”

Francesca’s brow creased, the image of him at fifteen — maybe younger — on the other side of the world, too sharp in her mind. “Did you miss your family?” She frowned, thumb tracing a line over his wrist. “Your mum must have trusted you a lot, to let you make that decision.”

Oscar let out a breath, not quite a sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “She did. Does.” His voice dropped, a little rougher now. “It wasn’t easy. I mean, I was pretty lucky — I had lots of people around me, managers, mentors, a few teammates who looked out for me. But there were days when all I felt was homesick, you know?”

Francesca turned her body more toward him, their knees bumping.

“I can’t imagine being so independent at that age,” she said, quietly.

“I think it taught me a lot,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t know if I’d want the same for my kids.”

Her breath caught.

“I- yeah.” She murmured. “I can see that.”

He looked at her then, properly, his hand moving to hold both of hers now, like he wanted to keep them steady. “When did you start reading?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Young. I used to go to the library after school. It felt safe there.” She confessed. “When I didn’t want to be at home.”

“I- I really hate how you were treated by your family.” He admitted. “Did you— I mean, can you at least tell me that you had one person in your life who took care of you?”

“Katie.” She said, after a heavy beat. “I met her at uni. She was studying business. She’s a great friend.”

That wasn’t the answer he’d been wanting to hear, clearly, but he didn’t push.

Francesca stared at him. There was a beat of quiet between them, soft and golden, and then she said, “You make me feel safe, Osc.”

He blinked at her.

“I know it sounds like a lot,” she continued, “but there’s something about you that makes me feel like I can just… breathe.”

Oscar didn’t speak for a long moment. He just leaned in, her forehead resting lightly against hers.

Francesca let her eyes flutter shut, her breath catching in her throat. There was something cloying in the air between them now — expectant, tender, and so, so careful. His hand moved from hers, brushing up along her forearm, until it came to rest at the side of her face. His thumb traced a gentle line across her cheekbone, featherlight, like he was memorising every inch of her.

She opened her eyes just enough to meet his.

He was already looking at her.

Not the way other people looked at her — with pity, or hesitance, or confusion — but like he was enamoured by her.

“Is this okay?” Oscar asked, voice barely a whisper.

Francesca gave the smallest nod, her fingers curling into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Please.”

So he kissed her.

It was slow. Intentional. No rush, no need to prove anything — just the warmth of his lips against hers, the quiet exhale from his nose, the gentle tilt of his head as he leaned in closer. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world to do it properly.

Francesca melted into it. Her hand came up to his shoulder, then his neck, fingers sliding into the soft hair at his nape. She felt his pulse against her palm, and hers answered in kind, a steady, stumbling rhythm.

When they eventually pulled apart, neither of them moved far. Foreheads still resting together, breaths shared in the space between them, everything soft and golden in the morning light.

“I really like you,” she confessed, cheeks rosy red, lips swollen.

Oscar grinned, lips brushing against hers as he said, “Yeah. I really like you too.”

And then she laughed, small and slightly breathless. “Good. Because that would’ve been really awkward otherwise.”

He laughed with her, arms tightening around her like he didn’t quite want to let her go. “Yeah, that would’ve been devastating for my ego.”

—

bookishgoldie just posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, hattiepiastri, and 47,109 others

bookishgoldie: new video-essay coming to your screens on Tuesday! hint: it’s about a certain singers influence on the contemporary romance genre 🪩🫶

view all comments

user21: holy shit my two worlds are colliding and i am NOT going to be calm about this

user17: she’s a HUGE swiftie miss girl isn’t quiet about it either 😭 ive been waiting for a vid like this from her omg

user87: me on tuesday: everybody shut up my show is on

user74: ohmygod real

user6: our girl is collecting piastri’s like pokemons ohmygod. oscar AND hattie in the likes iktr

user54: so her and oscar are definitely dating then lol

user69: maybe hattie just showed oscar one of her vids and he just… follows her? it’s probably completely innocent. she’s not exactly wag material lol

user7: @user69 wish i could be as delusional as you babe

hattiepiastri: if i send u my favourite manga will you make a video about it pls?

bookishgoldie: it would be my first manga ever! but yes. i’d 100% make a video about it if u want me to do <3

user40: OH SHES PART OF THE FAMILY HUH

user61: stop she’s giving such big sister energy ‘if that’s what u me to do’ IM DYING

landonorris: my sister asked if u would follow her pls she likes your videos @flonorris

bookishgoldie: ohmygod yes of course that’s so sweet. followed her

flonorris: this is the most humiliating day of my life but I LOVE UR VIDS SO MUCH FRANCESCA ahhhhh (lando i fcking hate u)

user76: ok this is getting crazy now

user8: im getting whiplash WHAT IS HAPPENING

—

Francesca was curled up on Oscar’s lap, laptop perched on her thighs, fingers moving with idle precision as she clipped audio and trimmed footage.

He was content to just watch her work. In her element. The furrow of her brow when something didn’t sync up quite the way she’d expected it to. The occasional muttered commentary and nudge when she wanted his opinion on something. The way she mouthed along to her voiceover without even realising.

It made something calm settle in his chest.

“I like seeing this side of things,” he said after a while.

Francesca glanced at him with a shy smile, tapping the spacebar to pause the video. “A lot of people hate this part. The editing. My management tried to hire someone to take over, but I said no. I genuinely enjoy this. I can just… lose myself in it.”

Oscar hummed. “Hattie’s the same with her sketching. Just zones out completely. You could set off fireworks next to her and she wouldn’t notice.”

Francesca’s smile widened a little at the mention of his sister. “I like Hattie.”

“She’s annoying. But she’s also one of my favourite people,” he said simply. Then, after a second, he asked, “Do you… talk to your siblings much?”

The shift was subtle. Her smile dimmed.

“Not really,” she said, voice quiet but even. “I mean, I have a sibling. One. Izzy. She’s older. We’ve never been close. She was like my parents; thought I was just a dramatic attention seeking kid.”

Oscar’s fingers found hers where they sat between them, soft and easy. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” She gave a little shrug, tried to smile again. “I mean, it’s not. But I’ve made peace with it.”

Oscar was quiet for a second. “My family’s already excited to meet you.”

Francesca’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Wait — what?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’ve told them about you. Mum asked if I’d started seeing anyone. I didn’t really know how to explain what this is, but I tried.”

“You’ve told them about me?”

“Of course I have,” he said. “You’re kind of hard not to talk about, to be honest.”

Francesca flushed, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. She didn’t speak for a long moment, then murmured, “I want to go. One day. To Australia. I want to meet them.”

Oscar looked at her properly then — really looked. Her eyes were glassy, not from tears, but from something quieter. Nerves, maybe. Definitely fear.

“Scary thought?” he asked.

She nodded.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said. “They’ll come to you. They’ve already offered. I told them a little bit—not everything, just what I could. Mum gets it. She said she’s happy to meet you wherever you feel safe.”

Francesca stared at him, wide-eyed. “You… told them that?”

“Yeah,” he said, slightly hesitant. “I—I'm not ashamed of anything about you, Francesca.”

She looked away quickly. Her thumb rubbed absently over his collarbone, shaky and soft.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’d like that. Them here. But that— I mean, I’d want to try. My job gives me so much freedom and I’ve never used it.” Her voice dipped, threaded with uncertainty. “I’ve always been too scared.”

She had a passport, technically. But she hadn’t travelled since she was a kid, since there’d always been a parent’s hand to hold in the chaos of airports, someone else to take charge. Adulthood had turned freedom into something sharp-edged and overwhelming.

Oscar leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple — slow and sure. “We can do as much trying as you want, babe.”

Babe.

The word caught her off guard in the nicest way. It fizzed in her chest, soft and electric, looping like a song she didn’t know she’d needed to hear.

She tilted her head just enough to look at him. “You said that really casually,” she murmured. “So now I feel like a psycho for wanting to scream about it.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, then looked down at her, a teasing glint sparking in his eyes. “Beautiful. Babe. Baby. Princess.” He ticked each one off like a checklist, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Francesca let out an incredulous, half-sputtered laugh as her face flamed red. “Oh my god. Stop. Now you’re just testing me.”

“Actually, I’m gauging your reactions,” he said, gaze calculating. “Seeing which one makes your brain short-circuit the most.”

“It’s definitely ‘princess’,” she muttered, hiding her face in his chest. “You cannot just say that. It’s embarrassing. I hate pet names.”

“No you don’t,” he said, entirely unapologetic, fingers drawing slow shapes on her arm. “You liked them.”

“Did not.” She said petulantly.

They sat like that for a while. The laptop battery warning popped up and was ignored. The video paused, forgotten. Francesca leaned her head against his chest.

“When do you have to be back?” Francesca asked, her voice soft, as if she didn’t really want the answer. “At work, I mean.”

Oscar shifted slightly beneath her. “There’s a break between races,” he said. “Just a week, and I’ve got to be in Woking on Saturday. Sim session.”

She nodded, humming in acknowledgment. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against the hem of his sleeve. “Where do you… I mean, where do you actually live?” she asked after a beat. “I’ve never really thought about it. You’re always travelling so much — it’s hard to imagine you, like, actually settled down somewhere.”

He smiled, tilting his head like the question had caught him off guard. “Australia, mostly. I stay with my family when I’m back there. But I’ve got a few places scattered around — small apartments I use when I need them. I rent them out when I’m not going to be using them.”

“Oh.” Francesca blinked, absorbing his words.

“I want that to change, soon,” Oscar said, his voice low, honest. “It’s been fun, letting myself just… exist. Living out of suitcases, bouncing from city to city, never stopping long enough to feel anything settle. But I want somewhere to be able to call home, you know? A real home. I don’t feel like I have that at the moment.”

She nodded, quiet for a moment as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Where would that be?”

He let out a short breath through his nose, a sound laced with uncertainty. “Lando’s been pushing me to consider Monaco,” he admitted. “Says it makes sense. Warm weather, tax stuff… the usual.” He gave a small shrug, like he was a bit embarrassed by how dry and practical it sounded.

“Lando seems fun,” she said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile.

“He’s… Lando,” Oscar replied, with a fond shake of his head. That alone made her laugh. “He’s excited to meet you.”

She softened at that. “You’ve told everyone about me, huh.”

Instead of answering right away, he tucked his fingers gently under her chin, tilted her face toward his, and pressed a series of light, lingering kisses to her lips. Slow and affectionate and sure.

“Yes,” he murmured in between kisses. “Everyone. Anyone who’ll listen. Don’t expect that to change anytime soon.”

She blinked at him, dazed and glowing. “Hm. Well, I get exclusive soft launch rights,” she said, attempting something breezy but smiling too hard to quite pull it off. “If you’re telling everyone about me, I’m telling the internet about us.”

His brow quirked, and he grinned. “You want to show me off?”

There was a low, amused heat in his voice, and she bit back the stupid little sound that nearly escaped her throat.

“Yeah,” she said, gaze flitting to his mouth and back to his eyes. “Obviously.”

He gave a small smile, soft around the edges. “So… what you’re saying is that it wouldn’t be completely ridiculous if I asked you to be my girlfriend? Officially?” A slight flush crept up his neck, but his eyes stayed steady on hers. “No pressure, if it’s too soon, or weird, or—”

“Yes.” Her answer came fast, almost cutting him off, and she let out a little breathy laugh at herself. “I mean… yes, I’d like that. A lot.”

Oscar’s smile widened slowly, and something settled behind his ribs. “Okay. Cool. That’s cool.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Yes. Very cool. Boyfriend.”

—

iMessage — Francesca & Katie

Katie:

Update pls

Francesca:

I AM A GIRLFRIEND NOW

Katie:

Colour me shocked.

Girl why do u seem surprised by this.

He is literally so gone for you.

Francesca:

i want to eat his face off

Katie:

Oh good god.

Please tell me you haven’t been this unhinged in-front of him

Francesca:

yolo

he’s my bf now anyway

no escape for him!

Katie:

Poor guy has no idea what he’s signed himself up for 💀

CHAPTER SIX

489 notes · View notes

meelkiewee · 5 months ago

Text

Washed up and ready for tumblr

sadly, i'm in a bit of an artblock/burnout so i'm kinda procrastinating on some projects by doing other stuff like this eefo character design... sigh

[pls reblog, don't like]

⬇️ my choices explained under the cut

INTRO

i'll start by saying that this character design was brought to life with my kinda limited knowledge of etho and my absolute passion for heavily redesigning characters and giving them my own twist.

THE MASK AND THE MASK's MASK

the first image that came to my mind was his mask. i knew i wanted something to cover almost all his face and for it to be wolf inspired. i still wanted it to reference his skin in some way though, so i added the little metallic plate and the black forehead ribbon as the way the mask holds up.

underneath his main mask i put another simpler black mask that mainly serves 3 purposes: it makes the wolf mask more comfortable to wear without too much metal to skin contact, it mantains the face covered in case the other falls off and... guys i remember i saw a clip of hermits asking him to take off the overlay of his skin to see his face but there was a second mask underneath. i don't make the rules.

CONCEAL DON'T FEEL

after that i slowly worked up a little bit of context in my head while i was adding more details and making my choices. so what i did was making a collage of the infos i collected over time about him and his character and sprinkle a little bit of kakashiki (-cit tango) visual elements.

as we all know etho is a brilliant redstoner and a guy who really cares about privacy. put that together and you get the lore i made up for him:

with his advanced irl tech knowledge, he found a way to transfer his soul in minecraft, kinda like SAO works, and has to conceal his appearance to not get caught. here comes the layered clothes, the enormous coat and ofc the masks. due to all of this i also headcanon him preferring to live in the colder biomes, and this ties back also to the fact that he's from canada ykyk.

AWOO BUT NOT TOO MUCH

i really like wolfie etho designs i saw going around but i didn't want to design another ren with a different palette (my ren is a anthro german shepherd) so i channeled the wolf energy in the mask, the thick fur of the coat that ends with a tail (inspired by marcille dungeon lord outfit, a few notice but her dress has a tail) and in his hair, also kinda looking like a tail.

TYPE: VIBES

the eye of the wolf mask being red and scarred (for life) is of course inspired by his kakashi skin. i sprinkled red tassels here and there to fill in the spots and mainly cause i personally love tassels and wanted to add some red accents for redstone.

his kinda slouchy posture is totally for vibes, etho comes across to me as this kinda lazy/chill guy that channels the energies he has into thinking about the redstone he gotta do and calls it a day. i tried to channel that also in the kinda generic plain clothes.

for the vibes i wanted to put him in crocs/flip flops too but i couldn't otherwise he would absolutely freeze. i had to give him some warm boots or whatevs *sigh*

i tried to make his single visible eye as cute and puppy-looking as possible 'cause c'mon he a cutie pie okay? for the mole near the eye, guys i literally can't recall where i got this piece of info and if it's even remotely true but, i read/heard somewhere he has a bunch of moles on his face irl??? idk idk this is so random, i'm sorry.

SO YEAH

this is the end of my long long explanation for this character design. i hope you like it and if you don't, i know my bestie likes it (he's a bit of an ethogirlie lol luv ya bestie <3)

the end, thanks a lot for reading!

#it was a stinky day in early january #and i was getting washed up uwu #meelkiewee #meelkiewee minecraft #eefo #etho #ethoslab #etho fanart #hermitcraft #washed up and ready for dinner

496 notes · View notes

ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 6 days ago

Note

I wouldn't mind if you wanted to share your feelings/thoughts on the Louis matter. I always liked reading what you had to say. I did notice that that tweet seemed to be the last straw for a lot of people in terms of keeping quiet about a lot of stuff that's been bothering them for a while. Also the fact you've been sort of away from it for a while means you'd have a more balanced and less heated perspective haha

yeah, ig that's true...... i was thinking of my perspective as incorrect bc i was so far from all of it but maybe it is an advantage. most ppl here know how much i've loved louis and for how long, so it's weird for me to admit how annoyed or even indifferent i've grown towards him. what i'm gonna say now is gonna piss some ppl off but ig i don't mind, but also pls keep in mind that this is literally just how i'm feeling, one single person somewhere on this globe. at this point i wish i cared less

i know that, for me personally, it's mostly been the tone of the fandom that has turned me off, which ofc has been fed by him: pretty superficial, about his looks, that have been pretty basic. empty platitudes about life, about being authentic without actually feeling real to me. oasis without the maniacal edge (which is what makes someone like liam gallagher intriguing). back when i felt like he really was still signalling it kinda felt like not a lot of people were genuinely interested in that part of him. like. im not here to thirst at a picture of that man im sorry i don't care how he did his hair and if that's all my dash is, i'll lose interest

another major reason, as well, is that i was projecting a lot onto him: memories of how he used to be (in public), ideas of how interested he is in queer history or his queer identity, how left-leaning or anti-establishment he is, etc. and some of that might be true but i can't see it in the way he profiles himself now, and i'm over the idea that i should be seeing through three thousand layers of his 'image' to the point where there is almost nothing that indicates that i've got the story straight yk. the way he wants to be seen is not the way i see him, so then it's me who's got to move on. i've accepted that gradually now to the point where it's so obvious i was lying to myself and pretending to love him more than i did for a while there. most of all, i was waiting for him to do something else, something more. if i then get annoyed bc he doesn't fulfill those imaginary expectations i've set, then that's on me. i'm annoyed now that i was wrong, but mostly that i was a bit delusional about him for a long while

and i get closets, i get the problems of the industry, i still know all of the things i knew when i was convinced that i should stand by him/them. that doesn't mean i have to pretend i like whatever he's doing with his solo career atm. i'm not going to another tour with red/black lighting and chicago songs, i've seen it by now. at the end of the day, i'm a fan of good (live) music, and i haven't listened to his solo stuff anymore since the obsession died down.

i was letting my feelings die down quietly for a while tbh and yeah, the recent stuff has really irked me. hinting at the new album and that it's going to be basically fitf all over again, tweeting that the fandom is toxic and for what? but before all that the new 28clothing collection, accompanied by the saddest fucking interview i've ever read about someone i wish i didn't care so much about.

at this point i don't know why im typing all of this out. what is the reason. i don't mean to make anyone angry. ig i just needed to vent, let these thoughts go. anyways. if he comes back with an album that wins me over again completely, then all i can say is that i'll be extremely happy.

#i'll leave it there #who knows what the future will bring #kind anon #discourse #if this brings anons to me #please just come talk to me about interesting and fun things #i will gladly talk about old queer signalling like. anything

152 notes · View notes

astrobydalia · 1 year ago

Text

Your present... Relationship observations pt. IV

I know you guys love these so here's more! As always, enjoy and happy holidays!

work by astrobydalia

long post!

A common thing I've seen in the charts of people who are firmly monogamous is moon-mercury aspects (this is not the only indicator ofc). Their decisions and interests are guided by what they feel so once they set their heart on someone... that's it for them

A very interesting lesson that I took from doing so many synastry/composite readings is that the "like attracts like" trope is WAY more powerful than the "opposites attract" trope. Here are some of the most common similarities I've spotted:

couples sharing the same ASC (this one is SO common)

Very similar aspects to the moon: I’ve noticed many couples have each of their moons aspecting the same planets, specially, outer planets, usually in similar (sometimes even the same) aspects. For example person A has Moon Square Pluto and person B has moon opposite Pluto (both harsh aspects)

A common thing I've seen in many couples synastry is Venus square Venus aspect

On the other hand I’ve noticed that flings or really passionate relationships tend to have Moon square moon in synastry

Moon sextile Moon relationships are so perfect imo. They have the easy understanding of the trine and the passion of the square/opposition

I’ve seen a lot of unrequited love situations have Venus square/opposite Moon. The moon person is attached to and idolizes the Venus person. The Venus person enjoys moon’s company but they aren’t that romantically involved or interested

Earth Moons are very fond of stability what is known to them but they secretly want someone who takes them out of their comfort zone and opens them up to deep and exciting emotional experiences. I've noticed they usually end up with partners who are more sensitive, expressive and spontaneous

I’ve noticed Venus-Pluto natives (square, opposition, conjunction) end up building some kind of resentment towards their long-term partners overtime and won’t let them go. The type to spend years married to some they secretly hate and also the type of person who demonizes every single one of their exes. It’s like they tend to attract relationships that wake up a dark side in them

Something I keep seeing over and over is that Cancer placements are playerssssss (both men and women). They will treat you like you’re “the one” but that doesn’t necessarily mean they have an actual intention to settle with you😭 they're just getting carried away by what they feel in moment so I guess they are unintentional players???

Leo and Libra placements on the other hand are intentional players imo. They love the romance and chasing just for the validation it gives them

In order to keep a Cardinal Venus/Moon interested you need to keep showing up like your relationship is brand new. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve be together or how comfortable you are with each other, they want their partner to still make an effort to impress and romance them like it’s the first date and they're bound to do the same

Women with Libra Mars I've noticed tend to attract mamas boys or child-like men with mommy issues. These women are always the dominant or mature ones in their relationships

Capricorn Mars women are dominant too and have a strong character but they chase men who are equally as independent as them if not more

Something I’ve noticed with Pisces/Neptune 7th house (and also Pisces Venus/Juno to an extent) is that yeah they put their partner on a pedestal but they also low-key tend to take their partner for granted? I’ve noticed they expect their partner to be indulgent, permissive and basically tolerate their bs. Little is talked about how their tendency to ignore red flags goes both ways; they want their partner to ignore their red flags too and forgive all their behaviors

What is up with Aquarius and Pisces placements attracting each other all the damn time?

Water Venus/Mars win the award for most obsessive lovers out there

I’ve seen a lot of people with Mars in the 7th house who were divorced or never married. One friend of mine who has this placement says she doesn’t want to marry at all or have a relationship cause she’s too independent

Women with fixed Mars are attracted to men who have rough or bold characteristics such as beard, tattoos, toned body, deep voice, etc. or just a very bold presence in general. They also have a thing for men who have a very confident, understated and nonchalant demeanor/personality to them

Women with mutable Mars and their attraction to flighty and chaotic men who don’t give them the time of day. I’ve seen this countless times 😭😭😭

I've seen harmonious aspects between Mars-Moon in people that work very well together! This aspect typically means fertility which in a work environment translates into a fruitful relationship. The two people wanting to create/initiate things together with lots of motivation

Who came up with the idea that Aries Moon/Venus are disloyal and flighty? All I keep seeing irl is these natives tend to have a strong attachment to their partners. Once they're in your corner they won't ever let you go fr. They could have a tendency to get attached to the wrong people tho

I’ve seen many many couples having 7th house Mars in synastry but this overlay is super chaotic imo, creates a back and forth dynamic that ends nowhere. The house person is the chaser here, they are always pushing commitment on the Mars person cause they don’t want the mars person to “slip away” or something. The mars person enjoys the eagerness of the house person and finds it very attractive and could enjoy challenging the house person’s interest. Eventually if the mars person isn’t that interested they get bored and are often the first ones to walk away

A very similar outcome I've seen happens with 7th house Mars in Composite. This could make the bond between the two a bit "forced" and dragged out. This also means the connection will really be put to the test, you guys may have to fight for your connection a lot which can either bond you more or exhaust you, could eventually become tired of the relationship and how much energy it takes to keep it alive.

I have a theory that your preferred house overlays could be indicated by your Venus/7th house/Juno. For example if you have Leo Venus you might enjoy 5th house synastry, if you have Neptune or Pisces in the 7th house you might feel comfortable with 12th house synastry, etc. Let me know what you think about this

I’ve noticed that 8th house synastry results in a lot of physical touch going on so people who have this as their love language might be specially fond of this overlay. This is the couple that literally can’t keep their hands off each other

Scorpio Moons 🤝 sabotaging the few healthy relationships they have in their life. They eventually learn to keep the right people after really going through it tho

With 7th house synastry you can really feel like something's missing when you don't have that person around.

When moon falls in fire houses in synastry the two people are always excited to see each other

Moon in 1st house in synastry is the only 1st house overlay that is not superficial. The connection is usually very genuine while it lasts. This person likely sparks a lot of nostalgia and you remember them fondly

When someone’s personal planets fall in your 4th house, you feel like this person can see you for who you truly are deep down

Gemini Venus/Juno/7th house: the people they date tend to have almost identical characteristic, there's always this blatant "twin" factor in the people they date or attract. For example all their exes worked in the same industry, have the exact same personality, etc

Venus Observations...

Libra Venus has the rep for being big flirts and charmers but this is actually a Cardinal Venus thing tbh cause, as I've said in a past post, they love the chase, they just all do it in different ways

It's true Virgo Venus are picky but this doesn't necessarily mean they have high standards. Yes, stay with me here. These natives have a very clear series of characteristics they want a partner to meet and that's how they are picky/critical (earth) but if those boxes are checked, they don't care much about anything else (mutable) and can be quite flexible. They don’t really care if their partner is not the most sought after person

In contrast, Capricorn Venus are picky AND have high standards. They want the best of the best, the perfect partner

Virgo Venus wants a partner that doesn’t need validation however they want their partner to validate them all the time

Aquarius Venus will only commit if they see a future with that person. Not only they are ruled by Saturn (which rules longevity) but they are also ruled by Uranus which rules innovation, Aquarius is the visionary of the zodiac so Aquarius Venus people need to feel like their partner will help them evolve or "upgrade" as a person in some way (not in a materialistic way like Capricorn but rather mentally). That's why they are attracted to people who are "different", intelligent or eccentric

The reason why Aquarius Venus is "flighty" as per my observation is because they tend to go for partners who are radically different from them and as a result they often stumble upon many incompatible partners

Leo Venus is very underrated when it comes to acts of service, I’ve noticed this is a very common love language for them

In my experience Pisces Venus natives are SO deceitful and immature. I'm sorry I really wanted to like this placement but they always make me cringe and are only cute on the surface imo. The type to lead everyone on by saying things they don’t mean and exaggerating compliments. They’re very passive in love and romanticize bare minimum. This means they don't expect their partner to take accountability but the native never takes accountability themselves either. They ignore issues in relationships and instead of working things through they expect everything to be fixed with lovebombing and/or pretending like nothing happened. Men with this placement tend to be emotionally unavailable and always want to date a doormat girl. Women with this placement are childish and tend to have princess complex

The only Venus sign that doesn't care much about looks from what I've seen is Scorpio Venus. They care more about the bond and chemistry over their partner fitting a certain type.

Also, what is up with Scorpio Venus and dating people they don’t actually like that much or at all? 🤨 They be dating people that low-key annoy them

Libra, Leo, Capricorn and Taurus Venus very much care about looks in a partner. Taurus/Capricorn Venus natives I've noticed pay special attention to how a potential partner dresses and grooms themselves

All Fixed Venus natives are pretty obsessive to honest, it's not just Scorpio. I've noticed they like the idea of having some sort hold or control over their partner. Their love language is making themselves indispensable in some way cause they enjoy feeling like they're partner will always need them and won't get away from them

Men with Pisces/Libra/Cancer/Taurus Venus have a thing for women who are people pleasers or stereotypically feminine and charming. They like it when a woman is kind, gentle, understanding, accommodating, etc

Men with Fire Venus are attracted to confident and independent women who have this it girl vibe to them

Something else I’ve noticed with Fixed Venus natives is that they have a thing for partners that have a mysterious or reserved vibe to them. Not necessarily introverted, but people who protect their privacy or keep to themselves a lot.

Mutable Venus fall for partners that have this very open and outgoing vibe to them. Again, not necessarily extroverted, but people who have a more bubbly personality

Cardinal Venus natives will only fall in love with someone who they deeply admire. They commit to people who have this put together/respectable vibe to them

Juno Observations...

I've actually observed Juno synastry is very significant in business relationships not just romantic ones. In fact, those married couple I've seen with heavy Juno synastry also tended to be involved in business together

Sagittarius Juno I've seen manifests mostly as the native getting a spouse that is very permissive and gives them a lot of freedom, a spouse that never says no to anything. This placement overall gives a very respectful and supportive spouse. However because of this the Sag Juno native will have a tendency to cross boundaries in the marriage and take their spouse for granted

In general both Sagittarius and Pisces Juno have a tendency to "abandon" their spouses either physically or emotionally and kinda forget about them from time to time. This doesn't necessarily have to mean disloyalty tho.

Sag Juno natives want to feel like they have the freedom to go and do their own thing, like they'll leave for days or weeks on end and their spouse won't mind and will indeed support the native. They don’t like to feel like marriage hinders their desire to live freely but rather encourages it. Side note: I have seen some cases in which Sag Juno natives actually did abandon their spouses/families either for another partner or because they were perusing better opportunities

Pisces Juno natives will give a more sacrificial energy kinda like "babe I love you but I have to go, I'm sorry". There's something that stops the native from actually being there for their spouse, but this placement indicates the spouse is bound to be very forgiving because they'll see is not your fault in a way

Cancer/Capricorn Juno is an indicator of having a marriage with traditional gender roles or traditional values.

I’ve noticed Scorpio Juno natives or Scorpio ASC in the Juno PC have a marriage that REALLY rubs people the wrong way. Others could see your relationship as toxic or even predatory in nature. People believe that you landed your spouse (or vice versa) through manipulation, abuse, deceit, stalking, controlling behavior, etc. This placement also means you met when either of you were going through a hard time so there could be some case of trauma bonding here

I’ve seen that soulmate relationships tend have their Junos in the same element (most common case). Honorary mentions: Juno in opposite signs or signs ruled by the same planet

Leo Juno natives are a bit flighty and afraid of commitment. They just want a partner for the sake of the romance and feeling spoiled. They want the relationship to stay fun and playful and really dislike the sense of seriousness and "settlement" that can come with marriage sometimes

With Juno in the 7th house either you or your spouse will be in a relationship when you meet

When looking at the Juno PC, Capricorn placements/Saturn in the angels/Saturn conjunct inner planets indicates long-lasting marriage

Fixed Juno natives will have a spouse that is completely fascinated and obsessed with them. You want your spouse to worship you specially with Leo and Taurus Juno. The way your spouse will love you will boost your ego thus acting more confidently after marriage. The energy of the marriage could be a little overbearing or suffocating depending on other aspects

I've observed this in virtually all cases with Virgo Juno have a tendency to attract very inconsiderate partners that make them feel like they're not good enough (the opposite can be true). They had unsuccessful first marriage that drained the shit out of them but they eventually find someone who is very modest and nurturing

Cancer/4th house Juno natives have a VERY hard time moving on from their exes if they ever saw that person as marriage material.

From what I've seen Capricorn Juno doesn't create that much of a delay or age gap in marriage. It can of course, but in most cases these natives marry in their late 20s to their first serious bf/gf and they usually have an age difference of 2-5 years approximately. This placements I’ve seen manifests mostly as “I married my high school/collage sweetheart and we’ve been together forever” kinda scenario OR marrying someone from your past you reconnect with later in life

Scorpio, Pisces, Capricorn and Aquarius Juno indicates you'll marry your soulmate or your relationship with your fs is karmic or from a past life. You might meet your spouse after fulfilling some karmic lesson or some life milestone

Cardinal Juno/Juno in the angles tend to be very proud of their spouses or being married in general. Could be the type to be very invested in finding a life partner cause they tend to turn marriage into a very essential part of their lives and themselves

work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations

2K notes · View notes

k3n999 · 1 month ago

Text

Aight aight~ here are my thoughts on TS 2.0 demo. SPOILERS.

About Exile origin

There's smth I'm confused abt with MC and their curse

My thoughts on LIs in this new update <3

Yes ofc I'm gonna yap more abt Leander

Useless 1am thoughts but genuinely terrified me

(Also please excuse my ENG (^^;;; )

I alrd gave my opinions on the replacement with the Hound to the Exile before but @/slyfire gave a perfect rundown on this topic! (Read here if you're interested~) Perfectly summed up everything I thought abt it. One of the things I want to highlight from their breakdown is this:

It seems the exile can unlock this red option:

It makes sense because they have an 'uncanny intuition for detecting danger'. That made mereally anticipate what's going to happen when we finally face the Soulless soon...To my surprise, they changed the options for this scene as well and I was excited 'Fight back' is an option, and ofc I chose it, eager to see what would happen but the result wasn't so pretty💀

Nope, I didn't expect for MC to pull off some sick move to fight the soulless, but what I was hoping for to see them AT LEAST DO SOMETHING or ANYTHING to survive, after all they're 'seasoned survivalist' and 'well-versed in deciphering Soulless'. They also have been taught how to survive in the wild.

So maybe dodging some attacks and do something to distract the soulless before Mhin arrives. But instead they tried to use their curse to purify the soulless temporarily. I mean, yeah cool, would love to see that happen, but at the time, it felt like a bad idea??? and yeah it was hdakdasks

This is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping for when I picked the Exile origin.. MC doing something that ties back to their background. I KNOOOWW, I know, it is still a demo, but, give us something-- a little bit that shows exile is good enough to be a replacement to the Hound. *sobs*

Also, did i miss anything abt how MC KNEW they could purify soulless? I'm aware I have a memory of a goldfish so maybe there's something that I forgor😔 Please let me know I'm actually curious (><!! I was surprised we got to see them unwrap the bandages, even attempt to try purify the soulless this soon.

And that's that.

ANYWAY *throws some glitters and sparkles*

My thoughts on LIs <3 just a basic rundown, nothing serious...kind of.

Kuras

Is it just me or does our pristine doctor seems to glow a lot more brighter in this update? Did I accidently turn the brightness up to max?? Because his beauty blinded me for sure, ESPECIALLY HIS EYES!!! I think I'm obsessed...so many pics it's so hard to choose! but something about the 2nd pic gives off softness, purity, innocence and sincerity to me uuuueeegghh and maybe I'm overthinking it bcuz it looks glowy to me🥺🥺🥺 Anw, love the lil ahem ahem...date..we had by the river (ughh the scenery was beautiful😔) I don't remember from previous demo but in this version,Kuras seems much more likely to show that he has a strong interest in the MC. I found myself more and more..dazzled by Kuras this time...I think he's gonna be my 2nd favourite I fear🥺................................ (Leander is behind me isn't he?🧍)

Vere

Well well weeellll~ looks like the fox has lost its tongue. Happy to see Vere is not just about wanting to snap our neck and eat us alive (yet). I didn’t know that we had chosen to ignore him and resist him(??) is what makes us interesting in his eyes? Not sure, but whatever made him react that way made me think of someone *side-eye Ais

[Is it kind of his type or something?...]

Mhin

Mhin is more approachable and um less snappy? than before, which I'm happy about (and can't wait for the moment when they can fully trust and feel comfortable with MC😭 I really want to see that happen so bad....) I love we got to see their nerdy side when they analyzing the soulless asjdasj That honestly caught me off guard. And how they show a little smile and get a bit bashful whenever we catch onto something they like🥺

Ais

[LOOK Y'ALL HIS OTHER HAND IS DOWN *head in hands**copium*]

*sigh* ...I love him..........*slaps face* I um, can't really hide my disappointment when we got less sprites of him. I know... because I remember every single expression and the movement he makes. Yes, I sound like a creep. Only for him tho~- *gets shot* I was hoping to at least him show his fang when he grins,-- pout OR BLUSH. But hey *sobs* we got bloody knuckles. I'm not complaining. Oh and no Princess sprite either *cries* I also hoping they also make the exterior of Ais' place. I am very curious how it look.... And this right here:

means thousands for me <3

(Do you think I'm done? Of course not. Yes I'm holding myself back from saying more because I'm gonna do a separate post just to talk about him😔)

Leander

[I want to kick him in the ass]

And at last, here we are. Of course I have to leave him for the end. The highlight of this updated demo; our lovely sus man, Leander. What kind of sorcery and flavor did they put into this man. WHY IS HE SO MUCH DIFFERENT THAN THE OLD DEMO?!!!??? He used to be much more tolerable and I- I thought I could fix him, BUT NOW this man is nothing but glaring red in my eyes😭NINONINONINOOOO🚨🚨🚨 the alarm in my head went off when he said this:

What the actual fck do you mean by that mister💀☝️

At the time, I thought it was just Leander being the haha silly guy he is!! --and then he starts making UwU face and saying things like; 'You don't owe me anything' 'I'll help you all the time' 'You're not believe me?' 🥺👉👈 Yeah it's cute and all but all this makes me...strangely uncomfortable...UNTIL HE LOCKED THE DAMN DOOR. I couldn't help but foolishly screamed for Ais, hoping he would pick me up and comfort me😭

The whole scene in the room; gave me nothing but smth close to claustrophobia. My legs wouldn't stop shaking, I kept biting my nails (afraid to see what would happen next) The whole time I felt trapped. All his sweet words felt some kind of spells in my ears- like MC couldn't do anything but 'Yes' to every word he said... AND THAT MC IS RASVAN DAMMIT AAAAA😭

Me through my monitor screen:

"RASVAAAAANNNN GET OOOOUUTT ITS A TRRAAPPPPPP DONT LISTENN TO HIMMMM PUSH HIM AAWWAAYYYYYYY RASSSVAAANNNNN"

I was already off my seat when it get to this part, LIKE AINT NO WAY Y'ALL GONNA DO IT??? and they don't🧍somehow I feel relief.

Dear Leander fans/simps out there, please don't hate me for having this kind of reaction (I was once one of you but now.........) ajsdghasd OVERALL do I hate this big massive changes on Leander? No. Absolutely not, in fact I like it even more. It shows that Leander might potentially be the scariest one among the LIs, despite being human. And I'm very much looking forward to seeing what kind of sht he'll pull in the full release.

Before I forget- can I just say how much I love his introduction? It's so much better compared to the old demo (I have more to say to this but brain is giving up on me rn)

And now here come my silly 1am thoughts; it's abt both Ais and Leander...

Since, ofc, we don't know what exactly Leander wants from us-- what if the feelings are genuine? The way he acts, all stuff he says to us, sure, some things might raise a brow.. but- but what if he actually sincere and this is just him wants to have us in his (somewhat) twisted way. WHILE AIS THO, all the stuff that I've been saying how soft he can be is just an act???? What if he’s fooling us, only to throw us away later???? What if the devs want to trick us (<Ais fans)??? Maybe there's some kind of twisted plot twist waiting at the end???----

I told you these are just silly and stupid thoughts, but idk why I decided to deep dive into it💀 Sometimes I like to think worse things that could possibly happen. It's fun to get lost in these thoughts even part of me know it won't likely to happen. But heh WHAT IF am I right? I'm still on abt with the theory and analysis with; Leander is green but is the reddest red flag ever while Ais is red but is greenest, most foresty flag ever. I'm so into it and want more ppl to talk about it *looks at you with my sparkly eyes*

ANYWAY, I'm gonna be sound more stupider if I keep this going. I'm going sleep and dream abt aisvan 🚶.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. Hope all of you have a wonderful day and keep playing demo until the full release comes out🥰(me).

#talkingken #touchstarved updated demo spoilers #touchstarved game #i can feel my brain is melting from writing all this #i blame leander

153 notes · View notes

cheonstapes · 2 years ago

Text

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘NERD! MIGUEL GOES SHOPPING’ ^o^

a/n ~ i am absolutely in love w @nymphomatique ‘s nerd!miguel drabbles as it encouraged me to start writing!!!! i wanna marry nerd miguel so bad :((((((( shout out to her and here’s some thots 💗

summary; hanging out with your nerdy boyfriend miguel!

wc; 300+

pairings; nerd!miguel x rich!fem!reader

cw; smut!!, not proof read, subby behaviour, dom!reader, miguel likes readers shoes a lot, miguel being a bitchboy for reader, boba!!!!!, fuckin, subtle breeding kink, shoe humping, kinda fluffy, reader’s actually down bad for miguel she’s just got a big ego :3

nerd! miguel who you always take shopping with you, making him sit in the dressing room as you try on the sluttiest clothes you can find

nerd!miguel who tries, and fails, to hide the huge bulge in his pants, stuttering every time you ask him for his opinion on a fit, his face a deep red as he holds your purse tightly against his lap

nerd! miguel who tells you how beautiful you look in everything you wear, separating the clothes you throw at him into the ones you’ll buy and the ones you’ll put back - you wouldn’t mind if he made a third pile would you? hidden behind his chair, things he’ll buy for you

nerd! miguel who carries all your stuff when you go shopping, his big arms arms lined with designer bags - he even pays for some of them because he just wants to please you ∩^ω^∩

nerd! miguel who’s your personal chauffeur, a hand resting shyly on your thigh as you sip on the boba he bought for the both of you - snapping some pics of yourself, making sure to sneak in a glimpse of the matching cartier rings you bought for his birthday

nerd! miguel who whimpers as he plows into you, your new prada shoes digging into his back as he mouths your neck, the intoxicating scent of your expensive perfume making his mouth water

nerd! miguel who fucks you in every piece of clothing you bought, fighting his demons to resist cumming all over your pretty dresses, opting to fill you up instead

nerd! miguel who tears up as you make him hump your heels, his fat cock red and aching as he grips onto your leg, moaning and whining like a little bitch, heavy balls throbbing as the tip brushes against your perfectly manicured nails

nerd! miguel who cums all over your expensive shoes, panting heavily as you coo down at him, gripping his face as you whisper in his ear, ”clean up after yourself, these weren’t fuckin’ cheap.”

nerd! miguel who eagerly licks up all his mess from your shoes, kissing up and down your leg as he mutters thanks and praises to you, gazing up at your pretty face, his heart beating faster and faster the longer he looks at you

nerd! miguel who is so hopelessly in love with you, and your pussy ofc (〃ω〃)

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara drabble #cheonstapes #spiderman atsv #cheonsbloopers 🎞️

3K notes · View notes

ethereacals · 1 year ago

Note

hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)

hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)

—•—

Check Yes, Juliet

synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date

contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red

warnings: none!

a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!

“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.

“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.

“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”

you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.

once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.

and that’s when you heard the knock.

the special knock.

the knock you had been waiting three days for.

your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

“hi.”

you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—

“you look gorgeous.”

you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.

“me?”

he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”

“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.

you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.

“these are for you.”

he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.

“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”

“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.

he’d definitely rehearsed that.

you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.

you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.

he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)

“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”

“Remus i was gonna pay—“

“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.

“so, do you have any hobbies?”

sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.

“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”

you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.

“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”

“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.

damn, you were being bold.

“i’d like that.”

he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.

“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.

“i do— actually.”

“really?

“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”

“well.. what are your favorites?”

“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”

“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.

“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.

“do… you have a favorite?”

and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.

“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”

“i mean— i skateboard, ”

“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.

“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.

“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.

“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..

“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”

“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”

you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.

“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)

“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”

“i’d love that.”

the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.

“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.

“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.

“really?”

“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.

“that’s so cool!”

he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.

“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.

“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.

“i had a great time with you, too.”

as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.

“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.

“thanks for.. everything—“

before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.

your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.

your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.

“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”

you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.

“bye, Romeo.”

he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.

Marlene was right, opposites attract.

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #poly!marauders x reader #fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #check yes juliet #romeo and juliet

423 notes · View notes

innorogers · 7 months ago

Text

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight.

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace.

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos.

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this…

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you.

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy.

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity.

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you.

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind.

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #captain america x you #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #captain america x ofc #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #chris evans characters

214 notes · View notes

ilidaeandquill · 3 months ago

Text

All Is Fair in Death and War - Character Analysis/Notes

Narinder - Anger

For the sake of my sanity, we’re going to pretend this gif primarily focuses on Narinder.

Quick fun fact: On my Goat/Extra Hard save file, Narinder got the Jerk trait (which I refuse to correct for obvious reason). I'm going to make any and all interactions with him as a jerk canon in AIFiDaW.

So anyway here's him bullying Goatfrey for their crush on Shamura before he steals their money (I know my cult is ugly I'm redecorating it).

(Keep reading for character breakdown) First Chapter: All Is Fair in Death and War - Chapter 1 - IlidaeAndQuill - Cult of the Lamb (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1,000 HITS FLMGKDSNG - If you read it, I hope you enjoy!!)

Primary Motivation: Narinder has two opposing character motivations: to reclaim a semblance of divinity without the Red Crown, and to assure the safety of his traveling disciples Baal and Aym. These two motivations directly contrast each other, and with the additional plotline created from rescuing the Bishops, he struggles to decide which one to prioritize. Lots of internal conflict with this one.

Character Traits: Prudish af. Concise with his 'work' (killing, he's literally just killing people) but sees no reason to assist others without probable payment. The sting of his betrayal, both from the Lamb and his siblings, runs too deep.

Theme Songs (Lyrical): "Death" - Matthew K Heafy, Sean Long & Mike Malyan, "you should see me in a crown" - Billie Eilish, "Gladiator" - Jann Theme Songs (Instrumental): "Sins of Hyrule" - ROZEN, "Aurora in Faerieland" - James Newton Howard Additional Narilamb song from his p.o.v. because the devs did it and I want to too: "LET THE WORLD BURN" - Chris Grey

Voice Claim: Cobra Bubbles - Lilo and Stitch Dialogue Pattern: He speaks formally when he's focused but gets sloppy with his dialogue as he loses himself to anger/irritation.

Outfit Inspiration: Regal and stealthy - a true assassin's garb. Most of his clothes are stolen, as he refuses to wear the cultist uniform given by Castor. He does prefer heavy robes but sticks to lighter garments for crusades/daily activity.

Narinder is a strong supporting character (and if we want to get technical, he's Castor's love interest, but I hate assigning that title to characters - I don't want a character's romantic plotline to determine their importance in a story) and the primary representation of the Anger stage of grief. This is seen through his personality traits/reactions to story events, but also through his pyromancy. His fire, representing his anger, literally burns him alive every time he uses it. He must learn/develop a way to safely use it, or risk losing himself to his rage.

Additionally: his anger is represented through the fact that he is angry at the world/fate. With my own grief, I often get angry, thinking it "wasn't fair" that my dog, of all creatures, got heart disease and died young. I portray this same anger through Narinder. His imprisonment wasn't fair. His loss of godhood wasn't fair. And, the unconscious, yet most important thing, is what happened to Baal and Aym was not fair.

"Ratau turned to watch the sparing brothers again. His fingers curled around his hands, nails digging far into his flesh. “Yes, but… This is inhumane. My lord, they know how to fight! We both see that! Be fair with them, please.”

“If the world was fair, none of us would be here.” The One Who Waits flicked his hand, and Ratau disappeared to his mortal realm." - That whole segment comes from his anger - it's not fucking fair what happened to the three of them. And oooohhhh writing that anger for him is soooooo satisfying.

Random Trivia/Facts: - Despite his regal tastes, Narinder's favorite food is plain baked salmon (with some spices ofc I'm not a monster). - Narinder was the first character I was able to give a distinct motivation. His internal conflict between reclaiming godhood and setting his disciples free was way too intriguing; I had to develop that first. - That said, the only way for him to add to the theme/move towards acceptance is if he goes against his initial desire of reclaiming divinity to help the ones he cares for. This is to say that I, the author, am trying to balance his development like a fucking tightrope walker. - KLEPTOMANIAC (If only for petty reasons). - He might be a pyromaniac too idk. - In "Yngya's Repose," Narinder fell in love with the Lamb shortly before their destined duel over the crown. In AIFiDaW, Narinder is still (somewhat) in love with the Lamb, he is just too angry to let himself feel anything other than the hurt of betrayal. - To add to that: In the scene where Narinder falls for the Lamb (Year 3: Autumn) - he specifically falls in love with Castor because they were kind to Baal and Aym. There were a few other factors outside that, but seeing Castor treat his disciples as their own was the final push he needed to fully fall in love. - And then he had to fight them to the death isn't that fun? :) - Narinder's parenting teaching style with Baal and Aym is largely inspired by Moro and San (Princess Mononoke) and Maleficent and Aurora (Maleficent).

Thank you for reading! Narinder is a super complex character; my only hope is that I give him the writing he deserves. He is, of course, featured in "All Is Fair in Death and War," but his primary appearance is in the short prequel to that: "Yngya's Repose." I hope to make a podfic of that story soon so people who don't have the time/ability to sit down and read it can still enjoy the story :)

Theme

The Goat/Goatfrey - Narinder - The Lamb/Lambert - The Curse

Leshy - Heket - Kallamar - Shamura

Jalala - Rinor - Fena - Aym & Baal - The Mystic Seller

#cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl fanfic #cotl narinder #narilamb #cotl au #AIFiDaW #shamgoat mention #going to try to make 2 of these analysis things per week #given that there are a lot characters i need to make notes for

71 notes · View notes

azaharinflames · 1 month ago

Note

you’ve had such well-thought out answers to everything 911 and bucktommy so i wanted to hear your take on this. i just came across someone writing that bvddie endgame is corroborated in the overall story and not going there is in bad faith 😵‍💫

i’m sorry but when the showrunners - both tim and kristen - plus the actor who portrays one half of that ship have emphasised over and over again the deep friendship and brotherly bond between buck and eddie…what am i missing here?

there have been numerous instances where the writers have opened up the possibility of buck realising romantic feelings for eddie and every single one of those instances have been clear: it’s always been about TOMMY

I had a long answer to this, and then the blackout happened and I lost it :/ So, trying again!

First of all, thank you so, so much, Nonnie! I really appreciate your words.

I've always thought that there is no stopping from living in delusion, if living there is all you know. But what do I know, lol.

I don't see how Buddie endgame is corroborated in the overall story, I genuinely don't. And I think anyone trying to claim the people not seeing it do it in bad faith are adding to some harmful rhetorics I've been seeing a lot in the fandom. Where if you don't like Buddie, then you're labeled as a racist and a homophobe.

Stop it. Cut that shit.

What they're doing by throwing accusations like those so easily is trivialising some very serious issues, whilst actively engaging in perpetuating those. Meaning, you cannot seriously tell me I am homophobic for not liking Buddie when in the same breath you're saying (with your whole chest, mind you) that Tommy Kinard, a canonically gay man (or Josh, also a canonically gay man), should be run over by a train. It's not a joke. It's not funny. Stop it.

Sorry for derailing there a bit, but it truly annoys me.

Look, to be very blunt here, I don't think 911 has written a single one of their pairings as being corroborated by the storyline. They've hit gold with Henren, Bathena, and Madney, and now with Bucktommy, but honestly? In all cases, it was a product of their luck in having actors that had insane chemistry together without the producers expecting it, in having actors advocating for their characters and the directions they wanted to take them in... I am not undermining the talent of the writers. There is only so much an actor can do without some good material. But I genuinely believe not a single couple of 911 was planned from the start (save Henren, because of obvious reasons), nor did they orchestrate the whole series to fit them.

Bucktommy are an anomaly (affectionate), in the way that, somehow, they fit so well, to the point that the red string theory was born. But we all know they were not planned from the start, and that Tim is probably still in shock at how hard he hit the jackpot with them.

So. For Buddie? Nothing indicates it was them from the start, and I think some small fun tidbits (like the elf in Season 2) that were done to joke around with the fans got taken too far. I'll just put in as simply as I can, I guess:

If the show wanted them to be endgame from the start, their growth would've gone perpendicular. Meaning - the actions of one would constantly be reflected in the other. Furthermore, if they were meant to be endgame, you know what we would've seen? Them acting like they do in fanfics.

Hot take, idc. But I mean it. Because in fanfics, back when I was reading Buddie, I maybe could see it (in the ones that didn't heavily mischaracterize them). A situation where they were fully supportive of each other, where they were each other's number 1 (Chris on a whole other league ofc), where their decisions were heavily influenced by each other, where they shared every big moment with each other.

But that is not what we got. And that is not what we have, for as much as they want to twist it that way.

And they made that even more obvious once Tommy came into play. Once they had Buck leaving his sister's wedding momentarily because he wanted to share that moment with Tommy (who, also, put Buck as his priority the second the emergency was over). Once they had Buck going home to his boyfriend in 710, instead of almost moving in with the Diazes to try to fix Eddie's mess. Once they showed us how Tommy takes care of him in a way no one else will, will put Buck as a priority even when they are not together (yet), will feel Buck's pain as if it were his own.

I feel like this got very long, and that my thoughts are all over the place lol. But to sum it up:

I do not think Buddie endgame is corroborated in the show, nor do I think it would be as amazing as they think it would be. Mostly because we've had Eddie looking about done with Buck several times this season (and in a no-cute way, I'll say), and mostly because after all they've done with Bucktommy, how significant they've made them so far? Yeah... I don't know if they could ever achieve that again without people thinking: Oh, but this is just a copy of Buck and Tommy. Meh.

Sorry for the long ass answer hehe. I was answering this ask shortly before the power outage, so it was on my mind most of the day (whenever I wasn't worried sick lmao)

#bucktommy #tevan #anti buddie #anon ❣️

49 notes · View notes

ava-starrs-girlfriend · 10 days ago

Text

Trial by Storm

Werewolf!Bob/Reader

Summary: You have another encounter with the oracle and a fight for your life against a stranger.

Word count: 5.7k

*Trigger* Warnings: descriptions of violence and murder (two child/minor deaths, a betrayal of a peer, family annihilation, corporate assassination, a vampire with no desire for aftercare of three victims), so lots of blood mentions. Attempted and successful non/dubiously-consensual vampire feeding. A brief description of a house full of people being set on fire.

A/N: Really leaned into some of the horror of the genre. People doing awful things to other people. I can write a summary of the chapter and link it here if anyone wants, upon Dont read if you arent good with the tw's my friends. Send me an ask and i will give a more detailed (but not totally detailed ofc) sumamry of the chapter!!! Be good to yourselves!!!!

Previous part

Next part

~~*~~

After your conversation with Lena on the beach, you went toward the workshop to wait for Ava.

The trail still didnt like how your magic clashed with the established magic. As if there was only so much to lend itself to Ava or to you.

She warped in front of you before you could reach the door. "Good talk?"

You nodded but before you could explain, she turned away and went inside the building. "Good. Lots to do."

Maybe it had been a lot for just one person, but now with you there, things got done far faster than she expected.

It wasnt even noon before you finished the last task.

"Anything else?"

She sighed. "No." She surveyed the work you'd done, her hands on her hips.

"Are we going to get to eat before or-"

"Sure, the witches eat before the hungry moon. That seems fair," she rolled her eyes. "You just had breakfast."

"Maybe you're in a bad mood because I didnt see you eat anything."

"Its part of my ritual," she snapped. She winced at her own tone and composed herself, waving an apology toward you. "Sorry."

You shrugged. At least her bad mood wasn't a mystery.

Mostly, this particular new moon was for her and her magic anyway. She didnt have much else for you to do, but insisted on your company.

So you sat in the workshop, trying to decide how you'd make your own first charm of protection. Ava had shown you many different styles, and what kind materials were used.

You had something special in your mind's eye. A simple twisting of twigs that you'd seen over the doorway of your Grandmother's home. She'd always said it was just decoration, but you knew better now. It was a spell to keep danger and evil out.

So you began braiding willow fronds together, tucking in this and that.

You glanced outside as a breeze caught the open door and made it creak wider open, and dropped the braid as you stood, the chair you'd been sitting on now tumbled back onto the floor.

In the doorway was the man from the mirror, the oracle.

"Do you really trust these people?" He asked, and turned so you could see Ava lifting her hands, her eyes closed as she murmured to herself. "They're all dangerous. To you, to your future."

No words formed in your mouth, your throat constricted.

"Guard yourself. Have you?"

He reached forward, and suddenly you weren't standing in the workshop.

This was an alleyway. Red bricks on either side, opening up to a street. Various posters and papers were stuck on the walls, mostly torn up and unreadable.

You looked down and watched as Bucky crouched over something between the alley wall and dumpster he was hiding behind. You heard cars on the street, and could have seen them if you could look anywhere else.

He moved.

It wasn't something.

It was someone.

A young boy, couldn't have been older than seven or eight. His neck and shirt were drenched in red. In blood.

Bucky glanced behind him, his eyes wild, toward where you were standing. His face was covered in blood. So were his hands.

He ran past you, leaving the boy still and cold.

As you turned to follow him, you were somewhere completely different. A bar, or tavern, you werent sure. It was dimly lit but full of people and conversation. Rough wooden beams ran across the ceiling, and if it werent for the electric lighting and phone hung on the wall with a coin slot, you'd have guessed it was a scene from centuries ago. You looked around and spotted another familiar face.

Alex was watching from the booth. He had his eyes on everyone in the tavern, and waited.

He made his move when two young men left through a side door.

You couldnt help but follow, the oracle pushing you to watch.

By the time you were outside, the first young man was collapsed on the ground behind a crate, his neck bruised, eyes wide open and terrified.

The other was begging for his life.

You just barely caught the words Alex was speaking, and they were of disgust. He called the young man and his partner witches; filthy and theives.

Before you could stomach your reaction to the murders, you saw Bucky again. He had three young women around him in the inn bedroom, an old tv on a stand in the corner. The curtains were drawn and the door was closed, but you could hear laughter and music from somewhere else. The three women wore gowns as if they had been at a dance, their necks and shoulders exposed. They wanted his attention. He looked full, but still hungry. You shuddered as he drank from each of them, each one worse than the one before. You'd never seen him feed, just drinking blood from glasses. These girls didnt acknowledge the pain of their companions, simply eager to be touched.

When he left the room, each of his victims still bleeding, their expressions warming to horror and pain, their hands grasping their skin, unable to cry for help as they realized what had happened. You knew they wouldnt last long, fading as their bodies gave up without the blood they hadnt given permission to be drunk.

The scene changed again. Ava stood in the middle of a massive room full of people. She looked younger, maybe by ten years or so. She looked terrified, then resolved, as the lights in the room flickered and dimmed, causing the others in the room to panic. The lights went fully out. You could catch glimpses of Ava moving through the confused crowd, even in the darkness.

The lights came back on a moment later, and people cried out that personal belongings and valuables had been stolen in the darkness. You watched Ava leave, a glance over her shoulder, a bag on the other full of stolen things. She wore a proud smile as you disappeared.

The vision spun until you saw Lena standing alone. She held a knife in one hand, a length of rope in the other. There was a forest around her, snow on the bare branches and under her boots.

Her hands were shaking, but you didnt think it was because of the cold.

Someone jogged toward her, stopping when they grew close. Their eyes landed on the knife, and before they could glance back up at Lena's face to ask what was going on, she'd already moved to attack.

The stranger had no chance. There was more blood here than there was at the previous memories you were being shown.

You werent able to look away, shocked as you watched Lena string up the stranger, muttering as she dragged them through the white snow now stained with crimson blood. Lena arrived at a stone house, the front yard filled with hunters gathered around a fire, warming their hands.

She was praised for the kill, apparently a shape-shifting witch. She glowed with pride as she was complimented by other hunters.

Your stomach was already in knots when you were finally shown Bob.

He was in his wolf form, unmistakable to you even though you'd only really seen it once.

He was stalking prey.

His prey? A family at a campground. A father, mother, and a son, oblivious to the threat in the woods. They were sitting at a table, making lunch. A fire was still warm in front of their tent.

You blinked and nearly collapsed, unable to scream as you looked around the campground a second later. You would never be able to describe that scene.

The wolf lunged for you, as if knowing you were there.

You fell back and landed upright on your feet at another scene. Alex lighting a fire in dry strawbales, the flames catching quickly on the dry wooden walls of a house.

There were terrible screams from inside the house and Alex just laughed. It served them right, for being murderers and monsters and thieves. He was unseen as people ran out of the house on fire, but didnt get far as the collapsed. He nudged one with his foot before walking away, into the shadows.

Out of the shadows came Ava, moving through glass walkways and upscale offices.

She wore a suit and held a folder, as if she belonged. She looked in on a group of businessmen in a conference room, and you watched in horror as she walked through the door and, with thin, materialized shadows as knives, killed every single one of them. She left no trace as she disappeared, the lights of the room off.

These visions had gone on far too long, and you wanted to beg for them to stop.

"One more," you heard the oracle say.

You didnt want to see any more.

"I promise," you heard a familiar, gentle voice say.

No.

"It'll be the best thing to ever happen to you."

No.

Out of the darkness came a stone fireplace with a calm fire.

Bob was sitting on the floor in front of a kid, maybe mid teens. The kid looked nervous, like he wasn't sure about something.

"You've seen how cool it is, right?" Bob laughed at him. A cold laugh. He leaned forward and punched the kid's arm. A little too hard. "You wont have anyone else hurt you ever again. And you'll have me."

"Promise?"

"Promise. We'll be brothers. Dont you want family?"

The kid nodded.

A second later, hours had passed. The fired had died out, and so had any warmth. The room was dark and the kid was lying on his side on the floor, tears staining his cheeks, dried blood making his hair stick to the floorboards.

Bob stood at his feet, his hands on his hips. He looked over the body once, and turned and left him behind, no remorse, no guilt about what he had done, or tried to do. It just didnt work.

Finally, you were back at the workshop.

"These are the people you're trusting," the oracle's honeyed voice said. "Everyone who loves a monster is just as much one. Do you really want that?"

He was gone, and your knees gave out, your voice finally letting out the screams of shock and horror. Your hands hit the rough floor as you fell, trying to keep yourself from falling too hard.

You didnt have the strength to stand again.

You crawled to the door but before you could call for Ava's help, you threw up on the grass. She was already running toward you.

A second later, your head was in Ava's lap, her fingers carefully pulling back your hair. She checked your pulse, light touches on your neck.

"What happened?"

You didnt know how to answer. You closed your eyes, greeted with the images of some of the cruelest acts each of these new friends had committed.

"Tell me," she said softly. "Let me help."

~*~

Long after the peak of the moon's route through the sky, you were able to stand again.

"Why didnt you tell me about the oracle before?"

"I told... I told Bob."

"He's not a witch."

"So?"

"Oracles dont attack," Ava explained. "This is wrong."

"Right," you groaned as a headache throbbed.

You only told her the minimum. You didnt know how you felt about the memories, so just telling her that you'd seen each of the people in the family do horrible things.

You leaned back. "You think it's an attack, that it was wrong. But you dont know what I saw."

"We've all done horrible things."

"Ok, yeah. Killing a room of businessmen with magic is horrible. But it was untraceable."

Ava pulled away like your words had stung her. "What?"

"And stealing from an entire crowd? Looked fun."

"Wait-"

"Do you know what Bucky's done? And Alex, and Lena?" You asked. That was it, you knew how you felt.

You felt betrayed. You felt disgusted, and heartbroken.

Your voice broke as you asked, "What Bob has done?"

"Stop."

"He had no remorse."

"Thats not true," Ava insisted. "Whatever you saw, it's not true."

You hated the tears rolling down your cheeks. These people didnt have a right to be grieved. They'd lied. They were dangerous. "How do you know?"

"Because thats not what they do."

"Who?"

"Oracles."

You laughed, looking up at the ceiling, wiping the tears off your face. "You're not one."

"But ive known many. And they may be tricky, but they cant-" she stopped herself, eyes flicking over your face.

"Cant what?"

She shook her head, getting up from her kneeling position and turning to the workbench. "Bob was right."

That was the last thing you wanted to hear. You scoffed, rolling your eyes, ignoring the squeeze of your heart.

"This is someone forcing magic," her fingers floated over different jars, full of dried herbs. "I'll show you what really happened, at least in the crooked visions you saw of me. I cant do the same for the others, they'll have to tell you themselves. But let me show you what really happened."

"What, so different fake truths can be planted?" You asked, your voice low as you stood to face her. "No. Just tell me. And let me decide."

"It would be better if-"

"Just tell me, Ava," you interrupted.

A thunder crash made both of you jump and turn your attention to the window.

A furious thunderstorm had started outside, and you could barely see ten feet through the sheets of rain.

Before you could turn to face her again, she put her hand on your mouth and you fell against her.

The large room, full of stalls and shops. It was like a convention merchandise exchange. The ceiling was low and aisles crowded.

You found Ava weaving through the crowd, her bag in front of her, hands holding it tightly. It was empty.

Lights flickered as she stopped in front of a stall, fascinated by the items on display.

She chatted with the seller, smiling as she listened, and after discussion, handed them a slip of paper and took the item that best suited the exchange.

You followed her through the market, watching as she traded and bought items, filling her bag. No one cried out for stolen items, the lights never fully turned off. They did flicker each time she got excited or intrigued by something.

You followed her through the entrance and now walked behind her as she, in a suit, walked the hallways of the high-profile office.

She knocked on a conference room door and entered a meeting, the men at the table turning to greet her as she entered. They all wore various broaches on their lapels. All of them were magic identifiers- each of these men practiced witchcraft.

She evidently was from the company's lawyer group and had to tell the men that their project had to be severely adjusted to be accepted to go ahead. They were all disappointed, but agreed to the changes and thanked her for their time.

You startled out of the vision, stepping away from Ava as you got ready to argue about not giving Ava the permission to force her way into your mind like that.

"Which feels true?" She asked.

"What?"

"Which of the visions feel true?" She repeated. "When have your feelings let you down? What have I taught you?"

What *had* she taught you? And what had you already known, just needed practice on?

Intuition. Detail searching. Finding the flaws in the visions.

But you didnt want to believe something blindly again.

"When did you get a law degree?"

"I was a paralegal for a couple years," she answered. "Made a lot of money."

"As a paralegal?" You didnt believe it.

"Yeah."

But then again, there was something about the company, the project, the men in the conference room. They knew what she was. She knew what they were.

So so did you.

"What is the- the not-oracle trying to get out of... whatever it's doing?" You asked, finally.

"There's the question," she beamed, proud. The room lit up and sun shone through the window.

You followed the light out to see that the rain had stopped. But there was fog that hid the sun again.

"An improvement," Ava decided. "Come on, let's go up to the house so we can get the rest of this sorted out."

"I dont know if I can look at them," you admitted. "How can any of those... any of those moments be different?"

"You had to see mine to start believing me, no?"

You shrugged.

"Give them a chance."

You wanted to.

So you nodded, and followed her up the trail, back to the main cabin.

You felt more eyes and presences around you than you had before. But maybe it was just the weight of the afternoon, the emotional toll of energy experiencing the amount of visions you'd been out through.

Bob was close by.

You didnt know if you could look at him yet.

You hadnt expected to miss him so much, and it had only been part of a day since he had gone. But you werent sure you'd ever see him the same way, or if you'd only pick out the danger lurking behind his dorky smile and easy presence.

"Do you know who the Oracle was?" Ava asked as she held the door open for you.

"You saw an oracle?" Alex asked.

You shivered when you saw him.

"Bob knew him. Didn't... didnt like him."

Alex hummed. "Probably John."

"We dont know that," Ava rolled her eyes.

"Who else does Bob not like?" Bucky's voice came from your right.

You were *not* ready for this.

"And who do you see, Bucky?" You asked, wanting to pick a fight and see if he would takd the bait rather than see what could possibly be the truth of his visions.

He didnt answer. You glanced around the room to find that everyone else was looking at you. Even Lena, who was up in the loft, leaning on the railing.

"What?" Your anger raised your voice.

"I... see you," Bucky finally said, quietly.

"You do?" Lena asked, at the same time Ava said, "I do, too."

"Me, too." Alex added.

"So do I..." Lena confirmed.

"But-" you laughed and gestured to yourself. "I'm not an oracle. I- I'd never seen any of you in my life before I came here."

It was true.

You had seen the cabins, and the lake, and the trails, but the only person who had ever been with you had been faceless or always dodge your gaze. Faceless in a way you couldnt ever remember when you woke, in that you couldnt place where you'd met them.

And then you'd met Bob, and the pieces fell into place one by one.

"Thats not how it works," Bucky started.

"You all seem to know a lot about something you arent."

"We've all been in this a lot longer than you," Lena spoke up. She'd come down the stairs behind the kitchen and joined the group. She didnt look anything like the Lena you'd seen in the vision.

"Why are you being so defensive?" Bucky asked, approaching you.

"The oracle showed visions of some of our past, changing it to be some of... of the worst things we could have done," Ava explained. She glanced at you before continuing, "And they were quite convincing."

Now Bucky wouldnt meet your eyes. Like he had plenty of ideas of what those could be.

"Like what?" Alex asked.

You looked at Lena first. "You... betrayed a friend. In a snowy forest. Someone you knew. They were, um, a little taller than you, a friend. And you... brought them back to cheers and praise. But there was... stained snow. With blood."

"Was it a fight?" She asked.

"Barely. They had no time to react."

Without being able to show her, it was hard to describe. Without your description, it felt impossible for her to explain.

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're saying you saw me kill someone, let alone a friend, let alone in a forest during winter time?" She scoffed. "Ive never done that. Ive never killed *anyone*."

You looked to Alex. "Have you?"

He tried to keep eye contact with you, but finally looked down, his shoulders dropping with shame. "I have."

That didnt make this any easier.

So you looked to Bucky, who almost laughed.

"Of course i have. But... not since before cars were invented. So, almost a century and a half ago."

"How old *are* you??" Lena looked over the vampire, frowning. "You said-"

"Not important. Does that help?" He asked you.

"I mean..." the fact that he had nearly laughed about having killed people wasn't what you'd wanted to hear, but it didnt sound recent. It wasnt surprising in another way, due to the fact that he'd told you about seeing friends become desperate for blood, forgetting not to drain someone completely. Maybe he'd been talking about himself in those stories.

He certainly wasnt proud of it then.

So back to Alex.

A timer went off.

"That would be dinner," Bucky said, stepping back as if to go attend to whatever the timer was for.

"We'll... we'll talk later," you told Alex.

He nodded. "Anything you want to know."

Dinner was stiff that night, especially without Bob at the head of the table, leading conversation or dispelling the tension.

But you didnt know what to make of his past, either.

He'd told you his story. That he'd been turned as a teen, and hunted with his pack. Hunted people. Hurt them.

But he didnt tell you he'd tried to turn someone; tried to make his own pack. Killing? Bob?

And leaving someone behind, with no remorse? Letting the body and fire grow cold?

No. That didn't feel right. That couldnt be true.

Could it?

~*~

Out of all the people who lived at the cabin, the one you wanted answers from most was just out of reach.

You knew Bob was nearby. On the property. Usually even close by, but you could never spot him.

You wanted nothing more than to chase after him, trying to use your future vision to see where he had gone. Where you might find him.

But it would be dangerous, especially if he was in his wolf form.

He'd said he was able to recognize people as the wolf, but he also said he couldnt promise he'd always be safe to be near.

So you stayed where it was sure, where it was known. Safe.

At least, you expected it to be.

You were taking a break from the office job you'd somehow retained, taking a walk behind the smaller cabins of personal residence. There wasnt exactly an official trail or path, but Bob had shown you a small pond near a spring, with a creek that flowed down to the lake. A weeping willow at its banks had become your private place of solace.

As much space as there was in the main cabin, it was hard to find somewhere there wasnt another person. And you were trying to clear mind, to process everything, to see the truth, to see the best path forward.

"My, my, my," you heard a deep, unfamiliar voice on your walk toward this place of solitude. You froze, looking around in the trees for the stranger.

"They werent kidding, you *are* gorgeous."

You thrust an elbow back, trying to catch the stranger off guard.

He just laughed and stepped back, out of reach.

He looked vaguely familiar, maybe from one of the photos back in the main cabin. Definitely a vampire, even if his dark skin wasn't stark white like Bucky's, he was pale. His eyes had the same intense charm about them that Bucky's had.

You'd finally just about come to peace with Bucky's strangeness and offputting stillness.

This guy, as much as he was literally dead, had much more energy. Life.

He was feeding off of people, live people, and often.

"Hey," he said, smiling, but threatening. "Why are you out here by yourself?"

"Who are you?"

"Came to visit a friend. Caught a whiff of you and *ooh*," he winked. "Just had to stop and take a look."

He looked you over, from head to toe, his eyes lingering in places you didnt want him to.

"I'm not offering a snack," you told him.

He smiled and stepped forward. "Honey, i dont usually ask."

You knew his movements before he made them, however swiftly. So you thrust your hands forward, pulling the air behind you into a gust of wind, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying back.

There was a dull thud when he hit a tree, but, as he sat on the ground, he laughed.

"Ok, ok! We can play before I get my dinner," he said, and then moved again with speed toward you.

You dodged him at first, trying to send cutting winds toward him, rolling your hands out and letting air follow your arms toward the stranger.

He was faster, and it took too much time for the wind to respond to your commands. You hadnt practiced enough while you were truly under threat, heart racing, your mind barely able to keep up with how to pull the air to your will.

With that slip of the moment, he was over you, your back against the ground.

He had you pinned, your hands above your head, unable to move to suggest anything to the wind.

He laughed again, low and thrilling. He had won.

"That was fun, honey," he said. "Shame we wont do it again- oof!"

Out of nowhere came a light brown blur, and you sat up immediately, getting ready to keep fighting.

But the blur was a wolf.

The wolf.

Bob.

"Bob!" You called his name and he stopped before he could lock his jaw on the throat of the stranger, his claws already digging into his chest.

"Shouldnt hesitate for your little crush, wolf," the stranger said, moving to push Bob off, but then Bucky's presence just as suddenly appeared.

Bob growled at the stranger and Bucky, but got off of the intruder, looping in a wide arc back to you, keeping his eyes on the two vampires, and keeping you in his sight, too.

When he was finally within a few feet, Bucky spoke.

He first addressed his friend with a hard slap to the back of the head. "You *idiot.*"

"I told you i was coming!"

"Sam! You know the rules!"

"Who's enforcing them when the big bad wolf is literally a wolf?" Bucky's friend, Sam, rolled his eyes. "Not what i'd call intimidating."

"He was about to rip your throat out," you said, your arms crossed across your chest.

"Whatever."

"You know the rules, Sam," Bucky glared at his friend, and looked at you, gaze softening. He knew your confidence in him was shaken once again. This was not helping. "Are you ok?"

You nodded. "Fine. Shaken up, but fine."

"Ok. I'll make it up to you," he said, then looked at the wolf.

You were still trying to learn how to tell a wolf's emotion from YouTube videos, but you were pretty sure Bob was furious.

So Bucky didnt say anything, just grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him away as they walked away. You didnt like how Sam's eyes checked you out one more time as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

Bob didnt, either, firmly putting himself between you and the vampires.

Once they were out of sight, he turned to face you.

"Hi, Bob," you said, smiling.

He still had a lot of questions to answer, but you'd let him answer later. He wasnt exactly in a position to do any talking right then.

"You ok?"

He huffed.

"I was going to the pond you showed me," you explained, and pointed with your thumb over your shoulder. "Wanna come with?"

He just looked at you, and you werent sure if he would follow when you turned away.

But you heard the pawsteps behind you a moment later, trotting along behind you, watching your back.

The pond was even more refreshing after the fight you'd endured. As you sat at the edge of the water, you groaned as the exhaustion and exertion hit you.

"You should've seen it," you told him as he stood, maintaining a few feet of distance. "Ava will be so proud of me. ... Although I forgot how to get him off of me when... but," you glanced over at him. "You took care of it."

He huffed again.

"Thank you," you said, looking into those wolf eyes looking for the human ones.

He looked away, over the pond.

"I'd really like to talk to you, you know," you said, watching him scan the area. "I- the oracle showed me... a lot of stuff. And I'm having a hard time figuring out what's real from it. If anything. And I want to talk to you about other stuff, too..."

You sighed as he seemed distracted by a leaf landing on the water. Was it even worth trying to tell him, to get him to be back as a human, so you could have a real conversation?

Maybe not. You leaned back and looked up at the sky through the leaves of the willow tree.

What felt like only a moment later, you opened your eyes to see the light had changed in the area- the sun was lower than you thought.

You sat up, the wolf immediately standing, removing his chin from your hip where he'd been resting on you.

"Sorry. Didnt mean to startle you," you told him. You wanted to reach out and pet his dense fur, but you also didnt want to test his understanding. "I need to get back to the cabin."

He didnt make much noise as he followed you back, once again watching your back.

As soon as the cabins were in sight, you stopped hearing his pawsteps. Looking over your shoulder, he was nowhere to be seen.

It was nice while it lasted.

You returned to your laptop, responding to any emails you missed and wrapping up work for the day.

At six, there was a knock on your door.

You had the recollection of your fight with the stranger earlier, and instead of your usual response of "yep, its open!", you asked, "who is it?"

"Lena," you heard.

You got up from the couch and opened the door.

Lena it was.

"Hey," you said.

"Good work on the fight earlier, Sam was impressed."

"Are we... cool with Sam?" You frowned.

She rolled her eyes. "Hell no. But he is here for dinner, or, through dinner. He's a friend of Bucky's."

"I gathered."

"Its gonna be weird," she sighed as you closed and locked your door.

You walked with her up to the main cabin.

"Just, be careful about inviting him into anything or anywhere. If youre not sure, just dont answer," she said, and led you inside.

"Yelena, you make me sound like a villain!" Sam laughed, already sitting at the table. He had the decency not to sit at the head of the table.

"You're annoying," Lena snapped.

"He's a guest," Alex said, warmer than you expected. "And I've kicked his ass more times than either of us can count, so no threat to us, dear."

You shrugged. "Ok. I still dont like it."

"Like what, honey?" Sam asked.

"I dont like you being here, at this table," you answered.

The grin was wiped off his face in an instant. "Ok, you-" he choked. His eyes widened, and he looked at Bucky, who was growing more and more amused.

"Bucky-!" Sam's voice was tight, like something was closing around his throat. He gestured at you, then Bucky, then you again.

"Ok, what is happening?" Lena asked.

Bucky explained, "His invitation inside this home of living souls was threatened."

Lena turned to you. "You can do that?"

"I- i dont... how could I do that?"

Bucky shrugged, his chin in his hand as he watched his friend walk toward the door, exasperated. "Dunno, actually. Its been a while since I've seen anyone do it."

"Why is he leaving?"

"He needs to be re-invited."

"But what did I say? And what did whatever i say have to do with the fact that this place is owned by, oh, yanno, Bob, and not me?"

"You're important to Bob," Ava's habit of coming close to people before announcing yourself stopped startling you days ago, but made Lena yelp in surprise. "The house recognizes that. Respects your say."

"Should I... invite him back in?" You asked, as you all turned to look at Sam, who was standing outside, his hands on his hips, waiting.

"Honestly, you might want to eat before having him come back inside," Bucky suggested, his eyes glancing at the family-style supper Alex made.

"Mm, that is true," Lena said, and sat at her place. "He was very weird last time he was here. Like i told you," she gestured to you with her knife, and began to cut into the chicken.

"I'll go keep him company," Bucky said, and lifted the two blood glasses from the table.

Alex's eyes followed the vampire as he left.

"What?"

"I would have loved to see your fight, my friend," Alex said, turning to you. "What was it like?"

"Pretty great, although not the best," you said, and recounted the afternoon with them.

"Ok, we can work on those things," Lena said, her mouth full.

After everyone who ate food was finished, you went to the door to address Bucky and Sam.

"Before anything," you looked at Sam. "You have got to promise to follow the rules. Dont lie. Especially, dont attack me or anyone from this family ever again."

"I promise on my grave," Sam said.

"Fuck that," Bucky rolled his eyes. "You dont have a grave. You burried me. Swear on mine."

Sam glanced between you and Bucky, then nodded, looking at you. For the first time, he looked serious. "I promise on Bucky's grave."

You checked Bucky's reaction to the promise, and then nodded. "Fine. You're allowed inside this cabin."

"Thank you," Sam said.

Bucky followed you back inside, and Sam followed after him, closing the door behind him.

"I have another question for you, actually," you turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"What did you mean by "they"? Who in particular do you mean?"

~~*~~

You're through!!!! Sam surprise!!!! Yay!!!!! Proud of you. Lol.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) @foreverchangingmind @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @imthatone-annoyingfriend @mandoalorian @melancholiast-clair @qardasngan @imaginecrushes

46 notes · View notes

pitlanepeach · 2 months ago

Text

From Eden | Chapter Six (6/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety. Mentions of mental health medication. Sexual content. Francesca has a lot of anxiety but is being very brave about it.

Notes — Some time skips, which I’ve tried to make as clear as possible. This chapter (and the final 2) are a lot longer, so grab a tea and a snack. Also: my race calender/fic timeline isn’t perfect. Just don’t focus on it too much and it’s fine. lol

It wasn’t a dramatic goodbye.

There were no tears, no desperate clinging (however much Francesca secretly wanted to). Just the low hum of the kettle in the kitchen, still steaming from their morning tea, and Henry sulking under the couch because his new treat dispenser (Oscar) was leaving.

His duffle bag sat by the door — not even fully zipped — and Francesca stood barefoot in the hoodie she’d claimed as her own, her hands swallowed by the sleeves.

“You’ve got everything?” she asked.

He nodded. “I triple-checked. Twice.”

“Sounds excessive.” She teased, though the words came out quiet and unsure.

“Sounds like me,” he grinned, stepping closer, his hands slipping under her arms to rest at the small of her back. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but didn’t move from where she’d tucked herself against his chest. “Just… it’s been so nice. Having you here. Being with you for real.”

Oscar’s chin rested lightly on her head. “Yeah,” he said, after a pause.

Francesca’s fingers curled in the fabric of his t-shirt. “Do you want me to walk you out?”

He shook his head. “No. Stay here. It’s cold.” He leaned back slightly to meet her eyes. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” she echoed. Then, quieter, “you’ll come back, right?”

Oscar let out a breath, soft and sure. “Of course I’ll come back. I already miss you.”

“You haven’t even left yet.”

“Exactly. Tragic.”

She laughed, and he kissed her. A steady, soft press of lips that lingered a moment longer than it needed to, a goodbye without having to say the words, really.

When he pulled back, his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth like it was second nature now. “I’m only going to be an hour away,” he reminded. “Text me. Or call. Whenever you want.”

She nodded. “Okay. I will.”

“I like it when you bother me,” he added, as if she didn’t already know.

“I like being heard,” she said, a little wry. He was ridiculous. Who liked being bothered?

Another kiss, this one to her forehead.

She huffed out a breath, her cheeks flushing red.

And then he was throwing his bag over his shoulder and opening the door, glancing back one last time.

Francesca stayed where she was, fingers curled into the hem of her sleeve, watching until the door clicked shut behind him.

Henry mewled in despair.

“Yeah.” Francesca whispered. She stared at the front-door. “I think I know how you feel.”

—

TWO DAYS LATER

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar

Francesca

osc

would u still want me if i was ginger

Oscar

I have nothing against ginger people

Francesca

🤨

did u date a ginger b4 me

Oscar

No I’ve never dated a ginger girl

Francesca

you’ve dated a ginger guy??????!

Oscar

Stop

I’m in a meeting

Francesca

ok sorry

i might dye my hair

Oscar

Whatever makes you happy

Francesca

ok <3

— two hours later —

katie talked me out of it

Oscar

Thank god.

Francesca

😾

ur mean

Oscar

You’re gorgeous just the way you are.

Turns out they don’t need me for anything else this week. I’m going to borrow a car and drive back to you. That ok?

Francesca

yay yay yay

of course it’s ok duh

also i have a question.

Oscar

What is it baby

Francesca

do u wanna take me on a date?

Oscar

…

Of course I do

Do you want me to take you on a date?

Francesca

yes

somewhere like… quiet

maybe not too far from the flat

if that’s ok.

Oscar

I’ll make it happen

Proud of you. 👍🏻

Francesca

ew why r u using the dad emoji.

Oscar

👍🏻

Francesca

oscar

Oscar

👍🏻

Francesca

you’re good at making me laugh

thank u

i got a bit anxious overthinking the date thing

Oscar

I know

Go make yourself a cup of tea and eat one of the pastries I got you

I’ll take care of everything.

Francesca

god i want to kiss u so hard rn

Oscar

👍🏻

Francesca

fuck off

—

iMessage — Katie & Francesca

Katie

Have you managed to get the outline finished? I’m getting pressure from the team at H.C.

Francesca

yes it’s been done for 2 days

im scared to send it to u

Katie

I need it.

They’re annoying me with their emails Francesca

Do this for me

I hate emails. You know this

Francesca

im worried it’s not going to be good enough

and they’re going to hate it

Katie

How about this.

I like reading. I love romance.

Send it to me. I’ll read it.

I will be brutally honest with you - no holding back.

Francesca

i would rather you be the one to tell me that it’s terrible actually

Katie

Send it.

Francesca

*word document*

—

iMessage — Oscar & Francesca

Oscar

About to leave Woking

Do I need to go to Tesco for anything on my way back?

Francesca

i would like some cans of sprite

and also there’s this book i need for the video i want to film tomorrow

they sell it in tesco apparently

*screenshot of book cover*

Oscar

I’ll try my best to find it

Do you have dinner planned already?

Francesca

i didn’t know u were coming back tonight rmbr🤨

Oscar

Yes but what were you going to eat?

Francesca

uhhhhh i have some instant noodles in the cupboard

probably that

Oscar

I’ll bring food back for us

I’ll probably get there around 7

Francesca

im being very casual about this ‘u wanting to come back here so soon’ thing

but i might bite u or smth when u actually do get here.

fyi

Oscar

I’m sure you weren’t this strange before I made you my gf🤨

Francesca

no i was

just hid it better

do u want me to stop

sorry

Oscar

Don’t stop.

Francesca

😼

Oscar

Freak.

Can’t wait to see you

Actually leaving now. Call me if u need me. I’ll answer on the Bluetooth

Francesca

❤️❤️❤️

—

iMessage — Katie & Francesca

Katie

It’s really bloody good

Not perfect. Very real

That’s what makes it so good

They’re going to love it.

Can I send it?

Francesca

yeah. send it.

love u

Katie

Love u twice

—

iMessage — Oscar & Francesca

Oscar

Is this the right one?

*picture of oscar’s hand holding a book*

Francesca

yesssssssssssssssss

thanku

Oscar

Cool

Are you okay with lasagna?

Francesca

yesssss please

that sounds so good

with garlic bread though

Oscar

Of course babe

Francesca

hurry up and get back here

want to smooch you

Oscar

Don’t make me blush in Tesco

Francesca

ooooooooooo ur so handsome

oooooooooo i wanna kiss u so bad

oooooooooooooo ur my boyfriendddddd

Oscar

You’re impossible.

—

The door swung open before Oscar even had the chance to knock properly.

Francesca stood in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy pink dressing gown covered in little hearts — fucking cute, Oscar thought — her hair a little mussed, her expression soft and sleepy. Hard to believe this was the same woman who’d been threatening to bite him an hour ago.

Her eyes darted straight to the bag in his hand.

“Book first,” she said, grabbing it from him. “Boyfriend second.”

Oscar blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” she said, digging through the Tesco bag not unlike the way a raccoon would approach a bin. When she eventually found the paperback — slightly curled at the corners due to the fact that he’d piled the family sized lasagna on top of it — she held it up triumphantly. “Thank you. Best boyfriend award goes to you.”

He stepped into the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. “Okay. What happened to wanting to smooch me, huh?”

Francesca, cradling the book like a newborn, looked up at him with a small, crooked smile. The way she held herself around him had already changed — looser, lighter — but there was still a flicker of nervousness in her eyes that made something tender unfurl in his chest.

“Oh, that’s still very much on the table.”

Then she launched herself at him.

She wasn’t particularly heavy, but Oscar still stumbled back a step, letting out a surprised laugh as she wrapped herself around him like an overexcited octopus. Her arms looped around his neck, her legs around his waist, and he buried a grin into her hair, heart thudding a little too hard in his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” he murmured into her shoulder.

“I missed you,” she mumbled, clinging tighter. “It felt like you were gone forever. I nearly forgot what you looked like.”

Oscar hummed. “I was gone for two days. And we FaceTimed twice.”

“Same thing.” She pouted.

He kissed her cheek. Then again, a little closer to her mouth. “I missed you too.”

“Okay,” she said, peeling herself off of him just enough to look at his face, though her arms stayed loosely around his neck. “I’m hungry. Ravenous. I’ve been glued to my laptop all day. I posted the Taylor video and it’s already getting such a great response. Comments are so sweet and—” She stopped herself abruptly, biting her lip. “Sorry. I’ll shut up. You’re probably exhausted.”

Oscar shook his head, eyes gentle. “Don’t do that.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“I want to hear about it,” he said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me everything.”

And then, without any real warning, he lifted her up fully off of the ground. Francesca let out a delighted squeak, arms tightening around his neck. He carried her into the kitchen, her dressing gown trailing behind them like a little pink cape, and settled her carefully on the counter. She beamed at him, legs swinging slightly.

He touched her thigh gently, grounding. “I’ll sort dinner. You talk. Start from the beginning. And don’t think I forgot — tell me what Harper Collins said to Katie too.”

Francesca looked momentarily flustered, but her smile was soft. “Okay. So, I woke up super early. Couldn’t sleep. Ended up doing this last-minute edit on the Taylor video because I thought the voiceover sounded weird and it was annoying me—”

Oscar opened the oven and slid the lasagna in, listening as she spoke. He added the garlic bread to a tray and popped it on the top shelf, wiping his hands on a tea towel as she continued.

“—and then eventually, at like five, I posted it, and it took off way faster than usual stuff. I thought it might do well, but not like… this well. People are already posting clips on TikTok and, like, videos of them talking about me analysis too.”

He pulled out a bag of pre-washed salad and gave it a little shake.

Francesca pulled a face. “No thanks.”

Oscar laughed. “It’s baby leaf salad. It tastes like nothing.”

“It’s sad green sogginess in a bag. I’m not eating that.”

Still grinning, he put the salad aside without argument and leaned back against the counter, gesturing for her to continue.

“Okay. And then Katie called,” she went on, fingers tugging at the edge of her sleeve. His gaze zeroed in on her hands without meaning to. Slightly red, a few new dark purple bruises near her wrist. He blinked and averted her gaze before she could notice where his attention had fallen. “She said she sent the outline to Harper Collins. And they liked it. A lot, apparently. There’s going to be another meeting next week. It’s not, like, a done deal or anything but… it’s probably going to happen.”

Oscar’s chest swelled with something deep and proud. “That’s massive, baby.”

“I know,” she said, in a whisper, like she still couldn’t believe it herself. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it’ll have been a dream.”

He stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “Nah. It’s real. You did that.”

She smiled into the kiss. “You’re annoyingly supportive for somebody who has no real interest in books.”

“You’ve watched every race since we started talking,” he said, resting a hand on her hip. “Even though I know you hate it. Seems like we’re even.”

She nudged his side with her knee and leaned forward to rest her head against his shoulder, quiet for a moment.

“I really missed you.”

Oscar turned and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Yeah. I missed you too.”

They stayed like that for a beat — her legs swinging gently off the counter, his hand warm against her side, the quiet sounds of the oven in the background. Then she tilted her head, nudging her nose against his jaw.

“How was your simming?”

He let out a soft, amused breath. “Decent, actually. They’ve been saying nice things lately — about how I’m handling the car, learning fast. It’s been a bit surreal.”

She smiled. “I’m not surprised. Although maybe I’m biased, since I think that you’re the best driver in the world.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but he looked suspiciously fond. “I have my moments.”

She gave him a measuring look. “What do they mean, though? Like… when they say you’re doing well — how do they measure that? Is it because you don’t crash a lot?”

He looked briefly thoughtful, then leaned his hip against the counter beside her. “Well, part of it is just about the data — lap times, feedback. But I think it’s also about how I’ve adapted. Rookie seasons are usually tough.”

“Rookie?” she asked, brows knitting slightly. “That’s like… you mean you’re in your first year?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. First year in F1.”

She blinked at him, clearly surprised. “Oh. Wow. Really? But you’re so good.”

His ears went a little pink, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess. I—uh, they’ve been saying I might win something. Rookie of the Year, maybe. Because I already have the podiums in Japan and Qatar.”

“Wait,” she said, brows lifting. “Okay. Podium. That’s when you got handed the trophy with Lando and the other guy, right? With the champagne?”

“Yeah. When I came third,” he said, trying not to sound too proud. “In Suzuka. And second in Qatar.”

“I didn’t realise Japan was your first podium.” Suddenly, she was so glad that she’d sat and watched the entire race.

He gave a small, almost shy smile and turned back to the oven to check the lasagna. “Thanks.”

She was still looking at him, trying to piece it all together. “I still can’t believe this is your first year, though.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve been racing for a long time, just not in F1. Started in go-karts when I was six. Moved through the junior formulas — Formula 4, 3, 2.”

She gave a slow nod, processing. “Like levels in a video game.”

He chuckled, setting a timer on his phone for the garlic bread. “Exactly like that.”

She swung her legs idly from the counter. “So how’d you get into McLaren, then? They’re a, uh, good team… right?” She attempted.

That made his smile falter just slightly, like he was choosing his words. “Bit of a weird one, actually. I was with Alpine before. They had me signed as a reserve driver — like, waiting in the wings in case someone got sick or injured.”

She nodded along. “Okay. So what happened?”

“Well… they were supposed to offer me a seat for this year, but they didn’t. Or, they sort of tried, but it was messy. Public. I wasn’t even properly informed about it, and they kind of announced me without confirming things with me first.”

Francesca’s face twisted. “Wait — what?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing over at her with a wry smile. “They just… assumed I’d go along with it. But I’d already been talking to McLaren, because I wasn’t getting answers from Alpine. And McLaren offered me a proper seat. Real deal. They wanted me.”

“So you picked them,” she said.

“Yeah. I signed with McLaren. And then Alpine’s team principal — Otmar — lost it. Tried to sue me.”

She blinked at him. “Wait. What? Like — actual legal action?”

He nodded, looking faintly amused. “Yeah. They took it to the Contract Recognition Board, tried to argue I was theirs and McLaren had no claim. But it didn’t go anywhere. The CRB ruled I was free to go. McLaren had the real contract. That was that.”

She stared at him, lips parted in disbelief. “You had a team try to drag you through court because you didn’t want to drive for them?”

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, though the muscle in his jaw ticked slightly. “Yeah. It was stressful. It sucked, honestly, especially because it was all happening during the first few races of the season. But McLaren were amazing through all of it. They backed me.”

Francesca looked at him, a little in awe. “That’s… insane. No offence, but you’re kind of underselling this. You survived a motorsport custody battle and won.”

He laughed, properly. “It does sound much more dramatic when you put it like that.”

“Because it is dramatic,” she said, nudging his knee with her foot. “God. People online always talk about the politics in F1 but I didn’t realise it was that petty.”

“It can be,” he admitted. “But it worked out. Mclaren’s my home now.” He said.

She smiled at him.

He moved to the other side of the kitchen, pulling open drawers and cabinets, trying to familiarise himself with the space.

She cleared her throat. “Um.”

Oscar looked over. “Yeah?”

She fidgeted slightly, fingers picking at the edge of her dressing gown sleeve. “I, uh… I like your helmet, by the way.”

Oscar looked up from where he was rustling around in a drawer for a spatula. “My — what?”

“Your race helmet,” she clarified quickly, already pink in the cheeks. “The design. The colours. I think it’s cool.”

Oscar paused, blinked once, and then that slow, boyish smirk spread across his face. “Is this…” he started, crossing the small kitchen toward her, “is this like that TikTok trend? The one where girls admit they’re into guys who wear masks and helmets?”

Her eyes went comically large, and then she groaned loudly and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God.”

“No, no, come on,” he said, grinning as he stepped closer and nudged her knee with his hip. “You like my helmet, huh?”

“I liked it before you made it weird,” she muttered into her palms.

“You like me better with the visor down?” he teased, voice low and amused. “Does it take me look all scary and mysterious?”

She peeked out from between her fingers, glaring at him. “It makes you quiet. That’s the appeal.”

He laughed, light and happy. “Rude.”

“I was trying to be nice,” she mumbled. “I see lots of pictures of you. You look… cool. Really cool. Like you know exactly what you’re doing, even though you say that you’re still learning.”

That softened something in him instantly. His teasing grin faded into something smaller, more genuine.

“Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot.”

She shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “It’s just a helmet.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, nudging her leg again, gentler this time. “It’s a big part of the job. You wear one every race, every test. And the design — that’s personal. You pick it. You make it yours. Kind of the only part of the whole thing that’s really yours, you know?”

“I thought that,” she mumbled through her fingers. “Before you made it weird.”

“I didn’t say anything! You’re the one who—”

“Oscar.”

He grinned and leaned forward, nosing her hands out of the way. “Hey,” he said, soft. “Thank you. I like it too. It’s custom painted, you know. I’ve had different designs through the years but the current one, the colours, the patterns, it feels like me.”

She met his eyes again, visibly trying to recover her dignity. “It’s… really nice.” She glanced at her bookshelf, where she kept all of her trinkets. “It’d be cool to have a mini one. To keep there.” She told him. “On my shelf.”

He kissed her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

—

liked by hattiepiastri, stephbroher, and 41,987 others

bookishgoldie last week

view all comments

user17 ahhhhhh f1 + booktube (my worlds are colliding)

user8 i am SO excited for your next video pls upload soon

katiebirdx my godson is so beautiful

bookishgoldie isn’t he😍

—

The room was quiet, dark except for the soft golden spill of the hallway light that Francesca had insisted on leaving on. The bedsheets were warm and a little tangled, kicked down around Oscar’s shins. Francesca was curled up against his chest, her ear pressed over the slow rhythm of his heartbeat, one leg slung lazily over his hips.

It was the first night they’d shared her bed. The couch had been fine — cramped, but fine — and she’d liked the way he hadn’t minded, hadn’t pushed. But this… this felt easier than she thought it would. Softer.

His hand moved slowly up and down her back, tracing the hem of her t-shirt with absent-minded comfort.

“I like your bed,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

She smiled against his skin. “It’s my bed. Of course you do. I also have impeccable taste in blankets.”

He chuckled, low in his chest. “Mmm. Can’t argue with that.”

For a long stretch of moments, there was only silence, shared breaths, and the occasional shift of limbs, adjusting to new closeness. Then Francesca tilted her head just slightly, her cheek still pressed against him.

“Do you want to… I don’t know. Brainstorm date ideas?” she asked softly. “I was thinking about it again earlier.”

Oscar blinked his eyes open, a little surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet, a little shy. “Just… you know. Not all at once. Just ideas. Things we could do. If I felt up to it.”

His hand stilled on her back for a second, then resumed its slow movements. “I’d love that,” he said. “No pressure. We can keep it all imaginary if that helps.”

She nodded against him. “Imaginary dates are safer.”

He smiled. “Alright. Imaginary date number one: picnic in the park. I bring sandwiches that are way too elaborate because I’m trying to impress you. You bring crisps and get mad when I try to steal them.”

She snorted. “Realistic.”

“Imaginary date number two,” he continued, warming to the game, “I take you to a little museum, rent the entire place out for just us. We look at weird 18th century art and pretend to care about it.”

“That sounds amazing, actually.”

“We leave early because it’s so boring and end up eating fast food in the car.”

“You would be the one to get bored first,” she teased.

“Probably.”

She shifted slightly, snuggling even closer, nose brushing along the edge of his collarbone. “I think I could do a museum. If it was just us.”

Oscar’s heart did something slow and fond in his chest. “If that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”

She smiled, sleepy and small. “That’s very boyfriend of you.”

He kissed her hair. “I am your boyfriend.”

“Mm. I like that.”

They lay in silence for a few more moments. Then, in a whisper so quiet he barely caught it, she said, “Thanks.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead and didn’t move them for a long while. “There’s never a rush,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, ‘Cesca.”

She let out a soft breath. ‘Cesca. Nobody had ever called her that. She liked it.

Then, after a moment, she told him, “I love the beach. I haven’t seen the sea in a long time. Forever, it feels like.”

His thumb rubbed slow circles into her hipbone through the thin fabric of her sleep shorts. “Okay, baby,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll go.”

She nodded against his chest, and he felt it more than he saw it.

“Okay,” he repeated, this time with a little smile, a little certainty, “but for now, go to sleep.”

“Only if you keep tickling me like that,” she mumbled.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Deal.”

She melted further into him, her breathing evening out as his hand continued its gentle rhythm.

—

The sun had barely started to rise when Oscar stirred, warm and grounded beneath the Francesca’s weight. She was breathing steadily, her cheek smushed against his chest, legs tangled with his. Her hand, as always, had found the hem of his shirt in her sleep and was fisted there. Soon, all of his shirts would have pull-marks and creases in the front — he couldn’t even force himself to pretend to be bothered by the idea.

He didn’t want to move. But he had an idea.

He leaned down, brushing his nose against her hair, inhaling that sleepy mix of raspberry shampoo and his aftershave that made his heart clench. “Francesca,” he murmured.

She made a soft, displeased sound and burrowed further into him.

He kissed her temple. “Baby, wake up.”

“Mmnnno,” she groaned. “Go away.”

Oscar huffed a quiet laugh and nuzzled behind her ear. “Do you trust me?” He asked quietly.

Still half-asleep, she didn’t even hesitate. “‘Course I do.”

“Good.”

In a practiced motion, he sat up, pulling her with him. She slumped into his chest, blinking slowly.

“What’re you doing?” she mumbled.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed one of his hoodies from the floor and gently tugged it over her head. She whined in protest but didn’t resist, letting him guide her arms through the sleeves. It was far too big on her, hanging down past her thighs, but it would keep her warm, and that’s what mattered.

“Where do you keep your flat keys?” he asked.

She blinked up at him blearily. “My bag. Front pocket.”

He found them easily before coming back, bending down and, without warning, scooped her up into his arms.

She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oscar!”

“I’m not giving you time to overthink,” he told her.

“This is kidnapping,” she said through a yawn. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his scent. Then she nipped at the skin above his collarbone. “Don’t put me down.”

He snorted, not even wincing at the sharp pain of her fangs against his skin. “Not kidnapping if you don’t fight me.”

Outside, the morning air was crisp and biting. She shivered, instinctively pressing herself closer into his side, her face still tucked into the crook of his neck. He paused for just a moment, uncertainty flickering through him. Was he pushing her too far? Was this too much, too fast? But she hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t protested. She’d only held on tighter, quiet and pliant, when he’d whispered a soft “be good” to Henry and locked the flat door behind them.

So he settled her into the passenger seat of the sleek, absurdly expensive car (one of the McLaren courtesy models, perk of the job), and buckled her in. She blinked at the dashboard, then at him.

“This is a spaceship.”

Oscar leaned down to kiss her cheek before closing her door and walking around the car to slide behind into the drivers side.

She didn’t ask questions. She wanted to. The anxiety was curling quietly in her chest, a cold thread of apprehension weaving through her ribs. But she knew asking would make it worse. Knew that the need to control every part of her day was one of the reasons she hadn’t done anything like this in years.

Before even starting the engine, he had one of his big hands on her thigh, his grip tight and grounding and exactly what she hadn’t even realised she needed.

“I trust you,” she said again, barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicked to hers, warm, steady, and he squeezed her thigh in three quick motions. “I know.”

The drive was quiet.

She kept her eyes closed for most of it, focusing on the rhythm of his breathing, the soft hum of the car, the weight of his hand on her leg. When the roads started to widen, when the buildings gave way to trees and hills, she could smell salt on the air and feel the shift in the wind through the cracked window.

Her heart beat like a drum against her ribs.

It was too much.

The world. The movement. The not-knowing.

But she didn’t panic. She let it rise. Let it crest. Let it fall.

Just kept breathing.

When he finally slowed the car, she opened her eyes. The light had shifted, gone golden — soft and hazy with the rise of early morning sun. She blinked, disoriented and heavy with sleep, as he pulled into a small gravel lot nestled against a grassy hill. And when he eased the car into park, she turned her head to look out the window and… froze.

The sea.

Endless. Expansive. Glittering beneath the sunlight.

And just like that, the ringing in her ears stopped. The ache in her chest loosened. She could hear gulls crying overhead. The steady hush of waves meeting the shore. The quiet, constant pull of tide.

“Hey,” Oscar said gently, not looking away from her. “We don’t have to get out of the car. We can just sit here. I just—”

She turned to face him fully, her eyes wide and already brimming with tears. He hesitated.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you not having seen the sea in so long,” he said softly. “Not when you clearly love it so much.”

The tears slipped free.

Francesca covered her face with both hands and sobbed.

Not loud. Not panicked.

Just quietly. Fully. Overwhelmed.

Oscar leaned across the console, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her onto his lap. She curled up into him.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

“Don’t be,” he whispered. “You’re okay. You’re so brave, baby. So good. I’m here.”

She clung to his hoodie like a lifeline, breathing him in.

And for the first time in years, she let herself be small in someone else’s care.

They stayed like that for a long time. Not speaking. Just existing.

When she was ready, when her breathing steadied and her hands stopped shaking, she pulled back and looked out at the water again.

“It’s so blue,” she whispered.

He smiled. “It is.”

“I forgot how it sounded.”

“Now you can remember.”

She turned to look at him, her face blotchy and red and beautiful. “You really didn’t have to do this. I- I might’ve freaked out on you. Made a scene.”

“You can make as many scenes as you want,” he said again. “But I will always try to give you what I think you need, yeah? Always.”

Francesca reached up and touched his cheek, brushing her thumb along the edge of his jaw.

“I- you know, Osc.” she whispered.

Oscar’s heart stopped. Then surged.

He leaned in, rested his forehead against hers.

“Yeah. I know.” he whispered back. “I know.”

With the sea as witness, she leaned up and brushed her lips against his jaw.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

Oscar was in Mexico.

Francesca and Katie were in her flat, the race coverage playing at a low volume on the TV as they chased Henry around the living room with a feather toy that had arrived two days ago — a surprise Amazon delivery tied with a note in Oscar’s handwriting, “for the little bastard”.

Francesca had laughed for ten minutes straight when she opened it. Katie had filmed the whole thing and, after stealing his number from Francesca’s phone, had sent it to Oscar, along with a voice note that simply said, “I don’t think it was that funny.”

Now, Henry was a blur of zoomies, paws skidding on the hardwood as he launched himself under the sofa to hide from the feathered menace. Francesca collapsed backward against the cushions, breathless and flushed. Katie flopped down beside her.

On the TV, the camera cut to a live shot of Oscar standing in the paddock. His race suit was half-zipped, arms folded casually as he chatted to his engineer, sun beating down on the brim of his cap. He was grinning at something, head tipped slightly to the side.

Francesca went quiet. Just… watching. Soaking him in through the screen like it might bring him closer.

Katie nudged her with a toe. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I just— I get it. Why they put up with long flights and stupid time zones and overpriced airport water. I’d do it. For him.”

Katie’s face softened. “You don’t have to prove anything, you know. You being here, letting him in, the fact you’re even saying that stuff out loud — that’s a lot already.”

“I know,” Francesca whispered. “I just think… he makes me brave.”

The feather toy squeaked as Henry pounced again, launching himself at Katie’s leg with the precision of a tiny, sharp-clawed assassin. She screamed, jerking her leg away and nearly spilling the tea she’d balanced on the arm of the sofa.

“Bastard!” she shouted, glaring at the cat now crouched smugly by the TV stand, tail swishing.

“Shit,” Katie murmured, genuinely impressed as she leaned forward. “He’s good, then.”

“The best,” Francesca replied without hesitation.

The footage shifted to Oscar on the podium in Japan, then in Qatar, smile boyish and eyes squinting beneath the bright lights as champagne sprayed from either side. Francesca felt her heart swell and ache at the same time.

“He’s going to win an award,” she added softly. “Rookie of the Year. From the FIA — the people who run the whole thing. He keeps trying to act like it’s not a big deal, but it is. There��s a gala and everything.”

Katie glanced over, eyebrow raised. “He tell you that?”

“I… looked it up,” Francesca admitted, shrugging with a sheepish smile. “The night he told me he might win. I couldn’t sleep, so I just kept Googling stuff. The voting, the dress code, past winners…”

“You’re obsessed.” Katie giggled.

“Not obsessed,” she said, nudging Katie with her foot. “Just… proud. And maybe a little bit obsessed.”

Katie laughed. “Okay, but like, in a really soft girlfriend way. Not a weird clipboard-and-red-string-stalker way.”

Francesca flushed. “I’m just trying to understand it all. His world. Because he makes so much space for mine.”

Katie was quiet for a moment. Then, “He’s very fucking lucky to have you.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Francesca said quietly.

The camera cut to him again. He ducked his head.

“He doesn’t really know how to be the centre of attention. Which is crazy, considering the job he’s chosen.” Francesca laughed.

Katie tilted her head. “Sounds like he’s found the right person to help balance all that out, huh.”

Francesca didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, curled up in the corner of the sofa, the TV screen casting soft flashes of light across her face.

Then, almost to herself, “I think I want to go to the gala with him. If he gets the award.”

Katie blinked. “I— Uh. Wow. That’s… big. Seriously?”

Francesca nodded, tucking her knees closer to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them. “I want to be there. I want to see him get it, hug him, tell him how proud of him I am.”

It came out calmly. Almost too calmly. Because inside, her heart was thudding like it had suddenly remembered all the reasons why that was a bad idea.

First, she’d have to travel to even get there — multiple planes, cars, etc. The venue would be huge. People would be watching. She’d have to wear something elegant, maybe heels — God, the idea of heels made her stomach flip. There’d be lights and flashing cameras and probably hounds of press. She could already feel the too-tight air in her chest, her body doing that thing where it anticipated danger before there even was any.

Katie hesitated, and Francesca braced — because she knew what was coming.

“Are you sure?” her friend asked softly. “I mean… that’s a lot, Fran.”

Francesca’s throat tightened almost immediately. She looked down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve instead of the skin that was itching to be scratched and tugged and twisted.

“I know,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I know it’s a lot. But it’s not like it’s next week or anything. There’s time. Months, even. And—”

She paused, squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then forced herself to breathe. To make the next words come out like they were calm and considered, instead of shaky and sitting way too close to fear.

“And it’ll take a lot of therapy. Like, probably multiple sessions just to deal with the dress shopping part. And definitely a higher dose of medication than I’m on right now. But… I want to do it. Not even just for him. For me.”

Katie’s expression softened instantly — because of course it did. She loved her. Francesca knew that. But the worry didn’t leave her eyes, didn’t waver. It was still there, settled in the tight line of her mouth, the way her fingers drummed absently against her knee.

“I know,” Katie said, voice low. “And I see that. How hard you’re trying. How far you’ve come. But… you also mask it really well. You always have. And I know what it looks like when you burn out. When you go too hard and then crash so badly it takes you weeks to feel even remotely human again.”

Francesca chewed on her bottom lip.

It was the truth, and it stung. But it wasn’t unfair.

“I don’t want that for you,” Katie added gently. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this, just because you like him, or because you want to prove you can.”

Francesca looked over at the TV, at the basically-muted coverage still looping behind them. A slow-motion shot of Oscar stepping into his car, pulling on his helmet, caught in profile — calm and sharp.

“I know I’ve done that before,” she said, her voice soft. “Made myself sick just to prove something. But this… this feels different.”

Katie was quiet.

“I want to be someone who shows up, you know?” Francesca continued, her voice shaking despite her best efforts. “I want to be there when they call his name. I want to experience the joy with him.” Her hands clenched briefly, and then she forced herself to loosen them. “I don’t want to live in this safe little box forever. I want more.”

Katie’s eyes were glossy now, but she smiled too. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. God, I can’t believe those words just came out of your mouth. I’m so bloody proud of you.”

Francesca exhaled, letting herself fall sideways against Katie’s shoulder, their heads leaning together.

“You’re gonna look hot as fuck,” Katie said after a beat.

Francesca laughed — a real laugh, bubbling up unexpectedly.

She didn’t think it would ever truly go away — the debilitating fear, the constant, clawing need to be surrounded by safety and warmth. That wasn’t how agoraphobia worked. It could get better, sure. There would be progress, steps forward, days where the world felt a little less sharp around the edges. But would it ever vanish completely?

Probably not.

Still, she could learn how to live with it. How to manage the spikes of panic, the silent spirals. How to catch herself before the fall.

Oscar had shown her that it was possible — that the world didn’t have to stay small and suffocating forever. That the sea was still hers if she wanted it. That safety could exist outside the four walls of her flat.

He’d shown her what it meant to be cared for without conditions, to be seen and still held gently. If she asked for the world, he’d put it in her hands. No hesitation. No doubt.

She reached for her tea and took a sip. Her hands still trembled.

But she held it steady.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar

Francesca

gonna walk to a café

i’m scared lol

His reply came almost instantly, despite the time difference.

Oscar

u got this baby

text me when you’re there

proud of you already 🧡

She stared at the screen for a moment, clutching the phone to her chest. Then, with a shaky breath, she pulled on her coat, slid her flat keys into her pocket, and stepped out of her building.

It hit her all at once — the cold air, the stretch of sky overhead, the noise of the street. Her pulse jumped. Her brain started whispering all the familiar taunts — what if you can’t breathe? What if you freeze? What if everyone sees you fall apart?

She stopped. Planted her feet. Breathed in.

What do you see? her therapist had said once, when she’d asked how to stop dissociating when things got scary. Don’t run from the world around you. Notice it.

So Francesca noticed.

The glint of morning sun on parked cars. The little cloud her breath made in the air. A dog straining at its lead, ears perked. A crisp packet doing a sad little tumble across the pavement. A window-box full of drooping flowers that someone hadn’t remembered to water.

Her heart still raced, but her feet kept moving.

By the time she reached the café, her fingers were frozen and her stomach was doing that slow, swooping panic thing it did — but then she spotted Katie by the window, already waving.

Francesca pushed through the door. The bell jingled above her head. The warmth and scent of coffee hit her like a hug.

Katie was up in a flash, wrapping her in a real one. “You did it,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

Francesca didn’t trust herself to speak just yet. Her eyes were hot and blurry with tears, but she nodded, and let herself lean into Katie’s warmth.

They sat by the window. Ordered muffins and flat whites, Francesca’s with oat milk.

Francesca’s hands trembled around the mug at first. But Katie didn’t mention it — just kept talking, light and breezy, about some ridiculous email thread she’d been stuck in that morning.

And slowly, Francesca started to relax. Her fingers stilled. Her chest loosened. She took a bite of her muffin and actually tasted it — lemon and poppy seed, bright and soft.

Out on the street, life moved around her. A child in a school uniform trailed a parent, kicking a pebble. A bus drove by, and the windows slowly got misty from inside. Someone laughed across the room.

And Francesca realised, quietly, achingly, that the world could still be hers, in any way she wanted it.

They didn’t stay long, maybe an hour and a half, but by the time Francesca got back to her front door, her legs felt like lead.

Katie had walked her home, not hovering but close enough that it didn’t feel like she was alone. They didn’t talk much after leaving the café — just a few quiet murmurs about Henry and whether they’d both want to have a pizza night this week — but Katie squeezed her hand before heading off.

Inside, Francesca shut the door behind her and let her back hit it, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor.

Her hands were cold. Her face was flushed. Her heart was still a little loud. But…

She’d done it.

She fished out her phone and typed, thumbs slower than usual, deliberate.

—

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar

Francesca

i did it

it was cold. i should’ve worn gloves

but the muffin was good

It took less than a minute before Oscar replied.

Oscar

What flavour muffin did you get baby

Francesca

lemon and poppyseed

i wanted chocolate but they’d sold out

Oscar

How dare they

I’ll UberEats a chocolate muffin to the flat

So proud of you baby

Francesca

—

She really didn’t mean to write the whole thing.

At first, it was just a paragraph — a single paragraph that came to her in the shower and refused to leave her alone. Then it became a scene, and then a chapter, and then, somehow, fourteen days later…

“I think I blacked out,” she said, eyes wide, cradling a mug of tea. “I opened a blank word document and now I have… 82,000 words.”

Katie just stared at her. “I— What?”

“I finished the draft. Of the thing. The book.” Francesca said slowly. “Like, the whole thing. Beginning, middle, end. There’s an actual story in there. Characters. Pacing. A climax. I have no idea how it happened.”

Katie slowly lowered the spoon she’d been stirring her coffee with, mouth parted. “Francesca. Babe. That’s… that’s bananas. You wrote a whole book in two weeks?”

“I didn’t try to,” she said, almost sheepishly. “It just kind of… poured out. I couldn’t stop. It felt like if I did, I’d forget how to do it.”

Katie got up from the kitchen table and crossed to her, putting both hands gently on her shoulders. “That’s amazing. It’s also extremely unhinged, but in a way that I deeply respect.”

Francesca laughed — properly laughed — and it felt so surprising in her own mouth that she covered it with one hand, like it might escape again if she wasn’t careful. “I think it might be crap.”

“It probably isn’t,” Katie said with a smile. “You’re just your own worst critic.”

Later on, when Katie was gone and the sun had started to set, she sent a photo to Oscar — her laptop open on the coffee table, the word count highlighted in red.

—

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar

Francesca

author gf vibe.

Oscar

So many words

No explanation

Francesca

i kinda finished writing the book

Oscar

I think you mean started writing it

Two weeks ago.

Francesca

i guess i found my groove

i also think i have carpal tunnel now

my hands are very sore

Oscar

You’re crazy. I can’t wait to read it, baby

—

liked by oscarpiastri, flonorris, and 64,529 others

bookishgoldie hi. posted a vid on youtube and it’s pretty special to me. go give it a watch ❤️ love ya’ll

view all comments

user64 YOU’RE WRITING A BOOK?!!!!!

user52 i really appreciate u being so open about your mental health. it helps SO MANY PEOPLE

—

Her camera was rolling, the soft ring light casting a gentle glow over Francesca’s face. She stared at the blinking red dot for a long moment, gathering herself.

“Hi,” she said, finally, her voice still a little scratchy from nerves. “Um. It’s been a while. I missed last weeks upload. Sorry about that.”

She gave a sheepish little smile, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her dressing gown had been swapped out for a black hoodie, soft and oversized — not hers, technically, but she didn’t think anyone would notice. Unless they looked close enough to see the little orange swoop on the left shoulder.

“I’ve been… working. A lot.” A pause. “And not just on my usual content. I’ve been working on myself, too. I’ve made some really big progress with my mental health. Not linear. Not easy. But… real. Lots of therapy. I kinda, like, actually leave the flat now.” Her voice caught slightly, but she kept going. “I’m still scared most of the time, but I’m learning how to deal with that in a healthy way.”

She let out a long breath, then reached down, holding up a printed stack of pages — thick, with a title page on top. “Anyway. I wrote a book.”

A beat. A smile. That dazed, giddy kind that always came when she said it aloud.

“I know. Wild. It just kind of… spilled out of me. And I’m still in shock. But it’s happening. It’s a romance, obviously.” Her smile twitched into something shyer. “I really enjoyed writing it, which is probably why I managed to do it so fast. I had some good inspiration.”

She bit her lip, trying and failing not to blush, then looked off camera briefly. “I’ll be sharing more soon,” she said, regaining her footing. “It’s still early days — editing, cover design, all the terrifying fun stuff. But it’s coming. And I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

There was a pause. Then, quieter, “Thank you for sticking with me. Even when I disappear sometimes. Even when I get scared to do this. It means more to me than you know.”

She reached out to stop the recording — then hesitated.

“Oh — and no, this hoodie isn’t mine. I stole it. No follow-up questions.”

Click.

—

Top Comments:

@litwitch420

the way you casually drop “I wrote a book” like that isn’t the most iconic thing you’ve ever done. proud of you, bestie.

@hannahsbookshelf

I don’t even care what the book is about. I’m buying ten copies. One for me, nine for the girl who couldn’t leave the house but still kept trying

@crymewithcoffee

not Francesca writing a book, going to therapy, AND soft-launching in the same video… multitasking queen.

@thisissochaotic

“i leave the flat now” I’M SOBBINGGGG you don’t understand how proud I am. been here since the ‘flop eyeliner tutorial’ days and this is the growth arc of the century.

@traumabrat98

Been battling agoraphobia for years and this gives me hope. Thank you.

@henryhasfans

I’m only here for Henry tbh but good for you I guess (jk I’m so proud of you I’m crying and I’d die for you)

@softestheartsclub

Your face when you talked about “the boy” 😭 you glowed. I don’t even need to meet him — if he made you write a whole book and start living again?? he’s a keeper.

@pidgeinajar

idk who needs to hear this but francesca wearing Someone Else’s hoodie while announcing her debut novel and mental health glow-up is PEAK soft girl renaissance

—

The front door clicked open with a soft thunk, and before Francesca could even reach it, Oscar was already inside, dropping his bag beside the shoe rack and wrapping her up in a hug so tight her feet left the ground.

“Hi,” she murmured into the side of his neck, her grin buried in his neck. “Welcome back.”

“Hi,” he said, kissing the side of her head, voice low and tired and happy. “Missed you.”

There were flowers in his hand — some daisies, a few sunflowers, wildly uncoordinated colours like he'd grabbed whatever looked brightest at the airport. A few petals had fallen off in transit. Still, they were perfect.

Francesca reached for them, heart too full. “These are tragic and I love them.”

Oscar gave her a sheepish smile. “Thought they looked happy.”

Before she could respond, Katie stepped out from the kitchen holding three glasses of Prosecco, eyebrows shooting up.

“Oh my god, you’re real,” Katie said, walking toward them with a glass of Prosecco in each hand, the third awkwardly balanced between her elbow and her ribs. They were celebrating the completion of Francesca’s first draft. “I was starting to think you were just one of Francesca’s very elaborate delusions. Like the time she thought the pigeon outside her window was trying to communicate with her through Morse code.”

“I— that was one time,” Francesca groaned, her voice muffled against Oscar’s shoulder. She didn’t move away from him, though — fingers curled into the hem of his t-shirt like muscle memory, like she needed to know he was still there. Still real.

Oscar’s arm stayed wrapped around her waist, steady and warm.

He glanced between the two women, visibly entertained. “Hi,” he said, smile crooked. “Francesca’s told me a lot about you.”

Katie handed over his glass, eyes scanning his face with barely disguised curiosity. She didn’t say anything immediately — just sipped her drink and narrowed her eyes slightly, like she was assessing a very expensive, very complicated piece of IKEA furniture.

Oscar didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, though his hand did tighten ever so slightly at Francesca’s waist.

“She better have,” Katie finally said, tone light but edged. “I’m very important to her.”

Francesca groaned again. “Katie.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Oscar said, a little too quickly, already half-grinning. “I get it. Honestly… I like knowing you two are so close.”

Katie raised a brow, as if surprised by his easy sincerity.

“I mean it,” he added, glancing down at Francesca, then back up. “You’re important to her. And I’m really glad that there’s someone else who sees her the way I do.”

Katie’s expression softened, just a bit.

“Well,” she said, after a beat, “good answer.”

Oscar smiled. “Thanks. Felt like a test.”

“Oh, it was.” Katie clinked her glass against his. “And you’re not done yet. But… you’re doing alright so far.”

Francesca laughed into his chest. “You’re both so annoying.”

“You love us,” Katie shot back, giving Francesca a quick, affectionate pat on the arm as she breezed past. “Now come on, there’s cake, and I’m not slicing it until everyone’s in the kitchen.”

Like she hadn’t just casually dropped the big L word.

Like she hadn’t just implied that.

Oh my god.

Francesca’s brain stalled, cheeks warming as she blinked rapidly up at Oscar, who, mercifully, didn’t seem to be reacting with any kind of alarm.

Instead, he watched Katie retreat into the kitchen, then leaned down to murmur near her ear, “She’s intense. I like her.”

Francesca huffed a quiet laugh, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Told you she’d be like this.”

He smiled, warm and genuine, eyes soft as they met hers. “Yeah. She loves you,” he added, like it was the simplest truth in the world.

Francesca’s throat tightened unexpectedly. It hit her somewhere deep, that quiet reassurance. That he wasn’t threatened by the friendship she shared with Katie, or overwhelmed by the depth wrapped around it. That he saw the weight of it and respected it.

“I’m lucky,” she said, voice a little rough.

Oscar’s thumb brushed her knuckles. “You’re loved.”

She rose onto her toes and kissed him. Just a press of her mouth to his, gentle and real. Something in her saying thank you without needing the words.

Oscar stilled for a beat, surprised by her initiating it, maybe, and then kissed her back with a soft hum in his throat, his hand cupping the back of her neck. It was brief, sweet, but lingered in the same way that it always did with them.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were warm and her eyes a little too shiny.

Oscar’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “Hi again.”

She laughed, the sound muffled as she dropped her forehead against his chest. “Hi.”

From the kitchen, Katie’s voice rang out. “If you two are done making out, the cake is getting impatient!”

Francesca snorted into Oscar’s shirt.

He just smiled and whispered, “Come on. Let’s go celebrate.”

—

It was late by the time Katie left, the last crumbs of cake still on their dirty plates piled up in the sink. Francesca had smiled so much her cheeks were aching, and Oscar hadn’t stopped touching her all evening. Little things like his hand at the small of her back, arm around her waist, kisses on her knuckles whenever he could.

Now, the flat was quiet again. Just the two of them.

She stood in the doorway to her bedroom, brushing her teeth with one hand, the other lazily twisting the hem of Oscar’s shirt. He was already in bed, hair slightly damp from the shower he’d taken, propped up against the pillows, scrolling absently through something on his phone. Shirtless.

She watched him for a second.

Noticed the strong slope of his shoulders, the thickness of his neck, the way his chest rose and fell in that even, sleepy rhythm. He looked up when he felt her staring.

“Hi, beautiful girl.” he said.

She grinned at him around her toothbrush, cheeks pink.

As soon as she’d rinsed her mouth out in the sink, she padded over to the bed on bare feet, curling up beside him under the duvet, slotting her body into the space he immediately opened for her.

“You’re so warm,” she mumbled against his skin, her fingers curling lightly at his side, nails digging into his skin.

“So are you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch feather-light. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, eyes half-lidded. “Just… full of cake. And happiness.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a beat. Just looked at her, his gaze soft, reverent in the dim lamplight. “I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled, shy, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. “You brought me flowers.”

“Half-crushed ones, yeah,” he chuckled.

“They were perfect,” she whispered.

Their lips met, slow and soft. No rush, just heat, rising in degrees, like a pot of water on an open flame. Simmering, simmering.

His hand slid down to her hip, not demanding, just there, grounding. Her fingers fanned out across his chest, slow and steady.

“Is this okay?” he asked against her mouth.

She nodded, then leaned in to kiss him again, more insistently. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

He shifted them gently, giving her room to roll onto her back, then hovered above her, foreheads nearly touching. His hands explored with care; the curve of her waist, the dip just beneath her ribs. He stared at every movement his hand made, like he was trying to memorise every inch of her body.

“You tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured. “You tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to stop, though.”

He kissed her again, her mouth, her neck, the hollow beneath her ear, and her body arched instinctively into him.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her (his) shirt, resting warm and still against her bare stomach, waiting. She nodded once, more sure about this than she’d ever been about anything, and he peeled it off with the same gentleness that he reserved only for her.

When she tried to cover herself, out of habit more than fear, he caught her hands gently.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful, ‘Cesca.”

She flushed. “You always say that. Call me that. Beautiful.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He kissed his way down her chest, slow and careful, taking care to notice every little reaction she gave him. Every time her breath caught, he paused. Every time she arched up to meet him, he smiled into her skin.

Her legs parted to welcome him without needing to be asked. The weight of him above her, around her, was a certain kind of comfort. And when he finally slid into her, it wasn’t shocking or overwhelming or intrusive.

It was right.

She let out a shaky exhale, fingers digging into his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed.

Oscar stilled, forehead resting against hers. “Okay?”

She opened her eyes. Nodded.

And then he moved.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t even really about sex. It was about them being together, like this. About breathing the same air, pressing close enough that the fear didn’t stand a chance. He held her hand the whole time, fingers interlaced, their bodies shifting in the slowest, most perfect rhythm.

She let the thrill of sensations roll over her, the heat, the fullness, the sharp pulse of her heart softening into something sweeter. Safe. Loved.

When she came, it surprised her. Gentle and deep and unlike anything she’d felt before. Her breath caught in her throat, a tear slipping down her temple as Oscar murmured her name, again and again, grounding her in the present.

He followed soon after, with a deep grunt and a tremble that echoed down to his toes. And when it was over, he didn’t move. Just kissed her. Tucked her hair back. Pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you,” he whispered, like he hadn’t meant to say it yet, but couldn’t not.

She blinked up at him, wide-eyed. Her chest ached, in the best way.

“I love you too,” she said softly, voice trembling but sure.

Later, they curled around each other, her head resting on his chest, one leg slung loosely over his. The sheets were tangled around their hips, warm with the quiet hum of leftover heat between them. His hand moved in lazy circles on her bare back, soothing and unthinking.

Francesca let herself melt into it. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat — her new favourite sound.

Her voice came soft, nearly lost in the hush of the room. “Can you take me back to the sea tomorrow morning?”

Oscar’s fingers paused for a second. Just a second. Then he resumed the gentle motion, even slower now. He tilted his head so his lips brushed her hair. “Of course I can.”

—

Oscar was sleeping, one arm draped around her waist, his breath warm and even against the back of her neck.

Francesca reached carefully for her phone on the nightstand, trying not to wake him. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a second, heart still fluttering with something so tender and unreal she could barely believe it had happened.

But it had.

They’d said it.

She opened her messages, scrolled to Katie’s name.

—

iMessage — Katie & Francesca

Katie

we said the L word

he said it first

and i said it back

katie. i think i’m in love with this man. like properly. like forever.

—

Oscar shifted behind her, murmuring something incoherent, and nuzzled into her shoulder with a content sigh. Her heart ached in the best way.

—

Katie

SHUT THE FUCK UP

Are you still breathing

Francesca

i would follow this man into war

im a new woman. i am reborn.

we. had. SEX.

like actual sex. not metaphorical holding-hands-and-weeping sex.

REAL. NAKED. BODY-TO-BODY. SEX.

and it was so good i think i saw god.

i am speaking to you as a ghost. i have perished. i have transcended.

i am levitating in the corner of my bedroom.

Katie

I’m not afraid to block you.

…

Is he… big?

Francesca

NO. MINE. BACK OFF HARLOT.

Katie

Jesus Christ

It was that good huh

Francesca

I. Transcended.

—

Francesca’s hand was tucked securely in Oscar’s. The world was still quiet, save for the cry of gulls and the rhythmic crash of the waves.

Oscar nudged her gently. “You look happy.”

“I am,” she said honestly. “It’s like my brain is breathing. I’m not… scared.”

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you think you’d ever want to live somewhere like this? Near the water?”

She glanced sideways at him, brows raising slightly. “Like… move?”

He shrugged, but the question lingered in the air. “Maybe. Someday.”

Francesca didn’t answer right away. They kept walking. The breeze picked up, tugging her hair, and he watched as she closed her eyes for a second, just breathing in the salty sea air.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, my flat is my safety net. My bubble. But this… this doesn’t feel scary. Not with you.” She paused, then added, “I think… it would be possible. Maybe with my therapist on speed dial.”

Oscar smiled. “I could make that happen.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “You- I mean, is that something you want? To live near the water?”

“I think it’d be nice.” He said, noncommittal, but honest.

“If I ever did leave my flat behind… it would have to be for something really, really good. Somewhere Henry would be able to call home for the rest of his life. Somewhere I could always rely on to feel secure.”

Oscar stopped walking. Tugged her closer until she was pressed against his chest.

“Baby,” he murmured.

She looked up at him, squinting against the morning light. “And I’d want to be with someone who makes me happy, as often as possible. Not always, but… often.”

He leaned down and kissed her, salt on their lips, sunlight on their skin.

“Okay,” he said, smiling against her mouth. “I’ll work on that.”

When they started walking again, her hand found his once more, thumb tracing the back of his knuckles.

Oscar was quiet. Thinking.

Not in the way that meant worry, more like… turning over puzzle pieces.

“I think you’d like Monaco,” he said eventually, voice soft and a little far-off. “It’s warm all year. Sunny. You could leave the windows open and let the air in, not just light.”

She glanced at him. “That’s a big change from London, huh.” She said, quietly.

“Maybe,” he said, not even bothering to deny it. “It’s small, too. The whole country. You wouldn’t ever feel lost in it. Everything’s within reach. You can walk almost everywhere. I know all the quiet spots.”

Francesca blinked. “You… you want me to live in Monaco?”

“I want you with me,” he said, simply. “And I want you to feel safe somewhere that we can both call home forever. I think it could be a good place for you. No pressure, obviously. Just—” He glanced at her. “I think about it sometimes. You, there. Henry too. Able to watch the water from a balcony.”

She was quiet.

“You’d be busy,” she said after a moment, her voice low. “With racing. And everything else. I’d be on my own a lot.”

Oscar didn’t pretend otherwise. He gave a small, thoughtful nod, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Yeah. But I’d come home to you. Every time. And… you wouldn’t really be alone. You’d never be far from someone you know.” He hesitated, then added, “The girls— I mean, if you wanted to know them.”

She turned her head slightly to look at him. “The girls… You mean the WAGs?”

Oscar’s nose scrunched a little, bashful. “They’re all nice. Some of them travel with us, but not all of them.”

Francesca hummed, then looked back out toward the water. A gull wheeled overhead, shrieking. The waves were starting to turn silver at the edges now, sun climbing higher.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that, Osc.” Her words were barely more than a whisper. “I— It excites me, though. The idea of making somewhere our home. And I do like the idea of being able to see the water from my window. Or a balcony, like you said.”

He didn’t push. Didn’t try to convince her. Just reached for her hand and tangled their fingers again. “Want to pick up pastries on the way home?” He asked.

She looked at him incredulously. “Uh. Yeah. When have you ever known me to say no to a pastry?”

He rolled his eyes at her, and then he kissed her.

Just because he could.

—

iMessage — Francesca & Katie

Francesca

hypothetically. in the future.

if one were to move to monaco. like monaco monaco. the fancy boat people place.

would that be a terrible decision or just like. a very bold rebrand.

asking for a friend (me)

also oscar told me he’d wait forever if it meant i’d be happy and i almost fainted like a victorian man seeing ankle for the first time.

Katie

When you say “in the future”

Do you mean 5 years or 5 weeks because those are very different things fran

Francesca

I HAVEN’T EVEN MET HIS FAMILY YET

he hasn’t met MY family yet

i’m still trying to mentally prepare for him being in the same room as my sister

we’re not there yet

we’re like. emotionally there. but logistically? spiritually?? maybe not. idk.

Katie

Answer my question you scoundrel.

Francesca

I DONT KNOW

maybe 5 months

maybe a year

maybe never

but also maybe i’ll wake up tomorrow and pack a suitcase and just see what happens

is this what love does??? it makes you consider international relocation???

Katie

It absolutely does.

And also you’re unwell. Deeply. Fundamentally.

But in like. A beautiful way.

Pls continue

Francesca

his eyes are so brown.

like unfairly brown.

like melted chocolate mmmmmm yummy

Katie

I’m gonna need you to calm down before you start a fire in your PHONE

What is this?? Shakespeare meets horny tumblr??

Pull yourself together girl

Francesca

i can’t

he said “baby, you’re all I want” last night and i saw god

like my brain blue-screened

if he blinks at me too lovingly again i’m going to dissolve into mist

Katie

ok nope. i'm out.

i’ve reached my francesca-in-love limit for the day

you’re talking like a victorian poet who just discovered lust and it’s deeply upsetting me

Francesca

LMAO

wait no come back

i haven’t even gotten to the part where he called me a good girl

Katie

🔇

this is me putting you on mute.

tell oscar to pay my therapy bills

Francesca

lol x

i’ll invoice him in kisses.

CHAPTER SEVEN

489 notes · View notes