#there's no right answer here - these are all tough to save yourself from

[missmeinyourbones]

we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes. 

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by. 

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room. 

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two. 

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists. 

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt. 

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily. 

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor. 

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs. 

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him. 

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything. 

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most. 

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you. 

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself. 

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up. 

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.  

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame. 

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites. 

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch. 

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known. 

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours. 

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes. 

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you. 

[miserable-sarah]

I Care 18+

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: NSFW, smut, 18+, fingering, oral (F), mentions of blood, bad language, unprotected sex, praising. Requested: Heyyy, idk of ur requests are open but if they are can u please write a dean Winchester x ex girlfriend smut who is a hunter and who dean is still not over. Sam and Dean rescue her from a vampire nest and dean is angry and worried after her and she's all like "stop acting like you care" and he says something like "I'll show u how much I care" + angst + kinda enemies x lovers + dark dean? + marking ; ( set in early seasons llke;1,2,3) A/N: I did make a few changes, let me know if you enjoy it! Thanks!

~

You've been hunting down this nest of vampires for a while. It was a big nest, bigger than you've ever seen. It's a hard job alone but you're confident enough in yourself to do it.

Well at least that's what you thought, you see you went into the nest killing almost all of the vampires that were there. You somehow missed calculated the amount. You got taken down and now you're tied up with no way out. You are dreading this, you have no one coming to save you. You're not scared, you're angry. you're mad that they caught you, and mad that you can't get out by yourself. You don't want to be turned into a vampire or have all of your blood drained from your body. So this sucks. You can hear the vamps talking about something they're too quiet to make anything out.

"Hey! Are you guys gonna do anything with me or?" You ask getting annoyed, you'd rather just die now. They just ignore you of course. So you start singing at the top of your lungs to annoy them, they have "super hearing", you know it bothers them. You continue for a couple minutes until someone, you're assuming the head vamp, comes over to you right in your face.

"Shut up!" He yells in your face "I'll kill you right now!" Just as you were about to say something, you hear a commotion. The head vampire cuts your stomach making you wince, then he leaves without saying a word.

"Aw come on, don't leave me here." You say in a stale tone. "We were having fun." you add. After a couple minutes, you don't hear anything.

"Well, well, look at who we have here."

"Oh, fucking kill me." You mumble to yourself.

"Couldn't handle the nest?" Dean smirks at you. You don't say a word just ignore him. "A thank you would be nice."

"Dean, leave her alone." Sam says to him, Sam comes over to you and unties you.

"Thank you, Sam." You smile at him. You glare at Dean.

"Are you alright?" Dean drops his tough guy act.

"Fine." You say sternly, you walk away from the boys trying to leave the building. You however, weren't fine. You were bleeding and had no idea.

"You're bleeding pretty bad." Dean says to you.

"It's fine, it's nothin-" You look down and see what he's talking about. You're covered in blood. You lift up your shirt and see a huge cut on your stomach. "Oh no." You feel dizzy and then Dean's arms around you as you fall.

~

You wake up in a motel room, not unusual.

"Dean?" You say softly looking around the room.

"Hey, you okay?" He answers, he sits next to you placing his hand on your back.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks." You mumble. You stand up even though your stomach is in pain.

"You should relax for at least a few more hours."

"Nah, I'm good." You say looking around for your things.

"Y/n, I'm serious." Dean says to you in a frustrated tone.

"Dean, I don't care. I'm fine."

"Y/n! Sit down!" He gets angry with you.

"No!" You yell, you have to hold back a wince. He's right you are hurt but you're not going to sit in a room with your ex boyfriend because you're hurt. You can recover somewhere else.

"You're hurt. Something can happen to you!"

"Oh and now you care?" You roll your eyes. "Stop acting like you care."

That was it for Dean. He stood up and got right in your face. "You don't think I care, huh?" He chuckled at you. "I'll show you how much I care." He said with promise. Dean smashes his lips on yours, at first it took you by surprise but you came around to it very quickly. You kiss back but then pull away.

"Dean what are you doing?" You say trying to push him away but he doesn't budge. "We can't, I mean we broke up. It's been months-"

Dean has been on your mind since you two broke up. It was over something stupid, literally so stupid you don't even remember what it was about. You were in love with Dean, well you still are. He treated you like a princess, but like a bad ass princess. He was your safe place and you were his. When you broke up it just so happened to also be a really bad time in his life and he needed to leave. So he did, you two never got to fix what was broken.

"Stop talking." Dean interrupts you. You go to say something else, Dean cuts you off by kissing you, again. This time you immediately kiss back. You slide his jacket off and tug at his shirt. He breaks the kiss to lift his shirt off. Your hands run down his muscular body. You almost moan in excitement.

Dean carefully took off your shirt, trying not to hurt you. He unclipped your bra and tossed across the room. His hands gently massaged your breasts, you let out a little whine. You've been so needy for him it's pathetic. Dean picks you up effortlessly and drops you on the bed. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them off your body, you can feel yourself getting wet with anticipation. Dean hovers over your body he kisses you softly, then your neck, down to your chest, then down your stomach and all the way to your panty line.

"Dean, please" You beg quietly. You hear Dean chuckling.

"Patience sweethheart." He says as he slowly takes off your panties. He kisses up your legs to thighs incredibly slowly. You groan in frustration Dean ignores your frustration.

"Please!" You beg louder.

"Look at how wet you are." He smiles at you "All for me?" He smirks.

"Yes" You moan softly.

Dean finally enters a finger in you, you moan in relief. He watches your face making sure you're enjoying it, he enters another finger and thrusts them deep curving his fingers to make sure he hits your g-spot. You moan louder at the feeling, it's been months since you've been with Dean, well anyone for that matter. Dean always knew what to do to please you though, he just knew your body so well.

"You like that baby?" He asks, you nod and moan "Words" He says

"Yes, Dean." You say softly.

"Good girl." He smirks at you. Dean dips his head between your thighs, you feel his tongue directly on your clit.

"Oh my god." You let your head hit the bed and close your eyes. Dean continues to pump his fingers in and out of you while his tongue dances around your clit. It feels so amazing. You start to buck your hips, he puts his arm around your hips to hold you down.

He adds a third finger stretching you out for him. You moan and whine, it feels good but you want him. All of him.

"Dean, please" You pant. He ignores you, he keeps sucking and licking your clit. "please." you whimper. He still doesn't listen. Your legs are shaking and you try to squeeze your thighs together but Dean won't let you. Your moans become more desperate. "Feels so good" He keeps going he can tell your close by the way you're squeezing his fingers.

Your buck your hips up, you let out a loud moan, your vision goes blurry and you see stars. Dean slowly pulls his fingers out, you look down at him out of breath. He licks his lips then smiles at you.

"You taste good." He slowly crawls up to your face and kisses you. You kiss back and pull him closer. You reach your hand down his stomach and realize he's taken off his jeans. You palm him through his boxers, he lets out a groan. Dean takes your hand and puts it down his boxers you take his invitation and pump his cock slowly. Dean kisses and bites your neck. You pull your hand out and pull his boxers down springing him free. He moans at your movements.

You tried moving to get on top of Dean but he stopped you. "You're hurt. Let me take care of you." he says kissing your forehead. He lightly brushes his hands down your body to your legs, he places them around his waist. He lines himsef up with you and slowly enters you. You and Dean let out a loud moan. "You feel so good." He says through his teeth. "So nice and tight."

"You're so big." You arch your back.

"I've missed you." He says he leans down and kisses you, you kiss back. He rests his forehead on yours, in this moment everything feels right. It feels like everything is going to be okay. You've missed this feeling.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me." Dean praises "Such a good girl." His words make you weak.

"You feel so good." you moan. Dean switches positions he leans up and places your legs on his shoulders, deepening his thrusts. You moan louder, so does he. His grunts and groans are getting more frequent.

"Damn baby, I've missed this pussy." He brings his fingers to your clit and starts rubbing "I can't believe this is all mine. Only mine."

"Yes, all yours."

"I know." He mumbles. Dean continues to rub your clit causing your legs to shake. You whimper and try to move around. "I know baby, I know." He coos at you. "Feels so good, huh?" You nod. "Words." He reminds you.

"Y-yes." You stutter "So good." He's so focused on pleasing you, his hair is messy, his body is glistening, his grunts and groans are filling the room along with your moans. You can feel your whole body shaking, your walls are clenching around him.

"Damn baby you're squeezing me so tight." Dean moans. His thrusts get deeper and faster. "Are you going to cum for me?"

"Yes" You moan "Feels so good."

"I know, you feel so good too." He groans. "I'm not going to last long with you squeezing me like that."

"I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead baby, cum for me." His fingers rub faster on your sensitive clit, with every thrust he hits your g-spot, his words are ringing through your head. Your body starts twitching, your legs shaking, you close your eyes tight, you try to scream but nothing comes out. Dean helps you ride out your orgasm, soon after you feel him fill you up. He lightly presses his body on yours and catches his breath.

You wrap your arms around Dean and hold him. He kisses your shoulder a few times before rolling off you. "Uh, let me clean you up." He says awkwardly. Dean gets up and grabs some clean towels he cleans you up then cleans himself up. "I'll change your bandage too."

"Dean." You grab his arm. "Just come lay down."

"But-"

"Please." You cut him off. He nods and lays down next to you, you move yourself so you're laying your head on his chest. "I've missed you." You look up at him.

"Me too." He says softly "Sorry-"

"Dean. It's okay. I know you had to go." You cut him off. "I'm sorry I never got to apologize."

"I know." He pulls you a little closer to him.

You're not sure what will happen next, you're hopeful it'll work out between you two. You both have a lot of love for each other, if it's meant to be it will be. But for right now all you want to do is enjoy your night with Dean Winchester.

[sports-on-sundays]

I’m sorry Ik request are closed but o really need a part 2 of Lando and Oscar

one for two / LN4 & OP81 / Part 2

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - The drama ensues. Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Picks up straight after where part 1 left off. Takes place from Monaco GP 2024 to Spanish GP 2024. Short time frame, but a lot happens.

Warnings: mention of vomiting, crying, "I'll kill you" joke, swearing, very slight innuendo, if I missed anything let me know

Requested?: Yes, by this anon, everyone who answered in the poll in a way, and by @gracielukey

Author's Note: part 3!!!

“Wait, Y/n, one second-” you hear behind you as a hand wraps itself around your arm. You look back to see Oscar Piastri beaming at you with a smile worth a ton of gold on his face. He’s out of his race suit and now back in regular street clothes: a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and an expensive black watch on his wrist. “I still haven’t given you your birthday gift yet.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right.

Earlier, when both McLaren boys had snatched each of your hands, pulling you in separate directions, both thoroughly excited to show you whatever gift they’ve gotten for you for your birthday, which just so happens to be today, the Monaco Grand Prix, you had shook them both off and waved them on to go do their PR duties.

For once in your life, as someone who is in marketing in McLaren, you got to do a fraction of your actual job concerning the two drivers, and not play the part of both their dramatic love interest.

Yet here you are again, looking back at a handsome Australian boy with earnest brown eyes, waiting for you to come with him so you can see your present.

You sigh, smiling. “Alright, Oscar. Show me this present of mine.”

He leads you to his driver’s room, where he holds the door for you to follow him in, and gently shuts it.

You have a jolting memory of the last time you were led into a driver’s room and the door was shut behind you, and the driver was saying he had something for you. It had been Lando’s driver’s room in Miami, after he won the race, and, well, you’ll never forget what the gift he had for you had been.

Lando’s kiss.

Though it didn’t really change anything at all, it seemed to change absolutely everything.

And now, just standing here, watching Oscar rummage around in his piles and bags of contained mess, you can’t help yourself from blushing as the memory floods back to you.

Oscar snaps you out of your dreams, though, when he straightens, holding up a small box that fits in his palm and a white envelope, and says, “Here… Don’t know if it’s your type of thing, but…”

“Jewelry?” you raise your eyebrows, eyeing the box.

He nods. “I don’t see you wearing jewelry a whole ton, but I thought you might really like this, regardless.”

You smile. “Usually I save it for special occasions, but I like wearing jewelry. Now, let’s see this card here…” He hands it to you, and you open it up. Oscar watches you intently as you begin reading his not-too-messy, not-too-neat handwriting.

Dear Y/n,

I just want to take this opportunity to say how much I appreciate you. You, as a person. Everything about you, I love. Your teasing, your jokes, your playfulness. Your hard work and dedication. You’re so understanding and kind. I love how gentle you are, yet also tough. You’re the perfect balance, for me and for anyone. You have the softest, most beautiful, caring heart, but a tough skin, too, and you can hold your own. You’re so strong and capable, too. I admire you in so many ways.

I love being with you. Time spent with you is my favorite time. Whether we’re just laying or sitting somewhere together, basking in each other’s silence and simply company, or going out somewhere, exploring someplace, and experiencing something together. I love it. I adore it. I love being with you.

Sometimes, I think about when we were little kids. I think about how we’d sit together and whine about how hard it is to be an older sibling, or how this or that rule by our parents was stupid. I remember playing with you, exploring. Even then, Y/n, we were forming a bond, and I think it’s beautiful. I hope we stay like this forever. Together.

I just want to be with you.

I remember as I got older and I moved, I missed you so much. So, so much. We stayed in touch, but you don’t know how much was missing without you always by my side. It’s like in a way you complete me.

I’m so glad that fate and time and whatever else all worked together that today, right now, you can be with me, on your twenty-third birthday. Twenty-three years, Y/n, I’ve known you. You’ve been my best friend. Somehow, we always keep running into each other. Like as if time and space and the universe knows we’re meant to be with each other, for each other, and it won’t let us be separated for too long. Like me and you have a magnet.

I love it, Y/n, and I hope you do, too.

I also love how beautiful you are. Your stunning eyes when they look straight into mine. The way you look over your shoulder and wink teasingly. The way your eyebrows scrunch together when you’re working hard or trying to figure something out. The way you flip your hair, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you laugh, and the way your touch feels; I love every single little ‘way’ about you. You are it, everything I want. I don’t know what you feel, but I know that for years, I knew it.

I knew I’m supposed to be with you.

If you don’t think so, that’s okay. But just know what I know. Because for years I was terrified to say it, but now, I know.

I know this, Y/n:

I love you. I always have, and I always will.

Yours truly, Oscar Jack Piastri 5/26/24

As you read the last words, you feel a lump forming in your throat as you softly gasp, “Oscar…”

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit over the top,” he says right away with a slightly nervous chuckle. “I don’t mean to seem sappy. I should have just left it at ‘happy birthday’...”

“No, no-”

“I just had a lot to say, I guess,” Oscar mutters, glancing down. “A lot to say, to make up for the years of staying silent.”

“Oh, Oscar, stop!” you laugh, your voice cracking as you suddenly throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. You feel your eyes begin to water as you squeeze them shut tightly and bury your head in his shoulder, murmuring, “This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever read, Osc… You’re going to make me cry…”

As you hug him, it’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He wraps his arms around you back, his hand slowly, absently beginning to rub your back.

You sniff a bit, whispering close to his ear, “That’s just about the most beautiful thing I’ve read… Oscar, I- I, um… I-” love you, too, your brain screams, begging your lips to form the words. You love him, Y/n. You know you do. Just say the words. Just say them.

But you finish with, “I- Thank you so much, Oscar. Thank you.”

He nods, resting his cheek on your head for a few seconds, before murmuring, “Why don’t you open the gift now?”

You nod, slowly leaning away. You mop up your eyes with your hands before taking the box. You slowly open it and gasp when you see a sparkling green gemstone inside, attached to a golden chain. “Oscar…” you breathe. “It’s beautiful…” You slowly begin taking it out of the box.

“Emerald, for May, on a gold necklace chain.”

You stop taking it out of the box to freeze and look up in surprise, eyes wide. “Real emerald? Real gold?!”

“Yes,” Oscar chuckles. “Yes, Y/n. It’s a real emerald on a real gold chain.”

Your jaw drops as you blubber, “Oscar… Oh my God, Oscar… you didn’t have to…”

“I think you’ve forgotten I can afford it. And I would spend any amount of money, if it was for you. But do you like it?”

“What do you mean?!” you exclaim. “What sort of question is that? Of course I like it! I love it!”

At that, the young McLaren driver immediately beams. “Here- want me to put it on you?” You nod vigorously, so Oscar takes the necklace gently from your hands and reaches around your neck to clasp it on you. You feel his soft hands briefly brush the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, before he takes them away and leans back to view you. “It looks lovely on you. Compliments your features.”

“You really think so?”

He grins with a soft chuckle. “Y/n, I know so.”

Once you’re done sitting with Oscar for a bit after that, just being with him, you exit his driver’s room into the hallway with a tired but contented sigh. You tuck Oscar’s note and the box the necklace came in into your pants pocket, about to get going and continue on with your life, when, once again, you’re interrupted.

You suddenly feel two strong arms wrapping around you from behind as the scent of Lando’s cologne fills your nostrils. He leans close to your ear, rocking you a bit, before murmuring in a gentle, concerned voice, “Hey, Y/n… How are you?”

You smile softly, feeling his warmth against your back. “I’m alright,” you sigh, your head still slightly in the clouds about Oscar’s note and gift.

Lando unwraps his arms from around you and gently guides you by your shoulders to turn around and face him. “What were you doing, hm?” he suddenly asks softly.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“In Oscar’s driver’s room. I saw you leave.” His tone is in no way accusatory. Just genuinely concerned.

“Nothing,” you frown, licking your lips. “Why do you care?”

He crosses his arms, the concern mostly falling off his face now as he says simply, reaching up to drag his thumb under your eye, “Because of this.” He holds up his thumb to show the chalky smeared mascara on it. “And because of the redness around your eyes. Are you okay?” The concern comes flooding back as he lifts his other hand to gently touch your cheek. “Did something happen? Did Oscar do something? Y/n, you know you can tell me. You know you can trust me.”

But you can’t help yourself but chuckle. In a way, it’s sweet how caring and worried Lando is acting, looking out for you like that. But also kind of funny that Lando thinks Oscar Piastri even has the capacity to do you any harm, at least not on purpose. So you say, “No, no, Lando! Don’t worry! I’m not upset! Those were happy tears!”

Lando doesn’t look much less concerned, though. “What made you so happy?” he asks carefully.

You sigh, figuring there’s no reason to not tell Lando, at least partially the truth. “Oscar just gave me a super sweet birthday gift is all.”

“Oh,” Lando nods slowly. “What was it?”

You smile and point at the necklace hanging around your neck, resting perfectly in the middle of your chest. “This…”

“Oh,” Lando says again, this time more impressed, looking down at it. “That… It looks beautiful on you.”

You smile wider. “Thanks.”

But then the British man swallows. “I know you’re probably tired and wanting to get back to your hotel room, but I have a gift for you, too.”

“Just make sure it’s not a kiss this time,” you softly tease. “I don’t think my heart can take it right now.”

“No, no, of course not. I actually bought you something for your birthday!” the Brit chuckles, his hand naturally falling to the small of your back as he leads you to his driver’s room. He keeps the door hanging open, though, and you’re sure that’s intentional, to give you more of a sense of reassurance. You appreciate it. “Alright!” he says, clapping his hands together. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” You shrug and obey, doing so. You feel him place some light, small item in your hand, before he says, “Alright! Open!”

You chuckle as you open your eyes, teasing, “What was the point of having me close my eyes?”

“So it was a surprise! Now look at what I got you, for God’s sake, Y/n!” he rolls his eyes jokingly.

You look down at the little card in your hand, shaped like a credit card. You bring it to your face and study it, until your eyes widen when you recognize what it is. “Lando, is this…?”

He grins broader as he sees the sparkle in your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. It is.”

“You didn’t have to!” you laugh. A gift card for a free weekend to a luxury spa. You’ve often told Lando how nice it’d be to have a spa day, just relaxing and letting the weight off your shoulders.

But you weren’t expecting it as a birthday gift! And you definitely weren't expecting some expensive luxurious place, and for a whole weekend!

“And,” he smiles, reaching in his pocket to pull out a second, identical card which he places in your hand, too, “A second one, because I figured it’d be no fun alone, so you could bring one of your girl friends or something.”

You throw your arms around Lando and peck his cheek, which is a lot more of an easy thing to do with Lando than it is with Oscar. Oscar, you’re more emotionally connected with. But physically and romantically, you’re a lot more connected to Lando. Lando giggles as you exclaim, “How’d you even think to do this?”

He shrugs. “You talk about it. And you work constantly, so damn hard, you deserve a break. You don’t get enough credit for all you do. Take a weekend to just relax and enjoy, hm?”

You smile and shut your eyes, nuzzling your face into his neck, loving the sentiment, loving the gift, and loving Lando’s attitude in recognizing how hard you do work.

It feels so good to simply be appreciated.

The day after the Monaco Grand Prix, that Monday, Oscar texts you, asking you if you'd like the meet up before you have to go back to the U.K.

You're leaving tomorrow, so it had to be a yes.

Now you sit next to Oscar in his car, in the parking lot, as you buckle your seat belt and Oscar absently drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

Finally you break the silence with, "So, what's the plan, Stan?"

"Um..." Oscar begins, and just by one quick glance, you can see the deep thought written across his face as he looks forward out the windshield.

And you're right. The Aussie's thoughts are raging, about only one thing. And that thing, of course, being you.

He bites his lip, feeling a pang of slight desperation, but mostly just indescision.

He thought the nice note he wrote you for your birthday would've... given more of a reaction. Or maybe the necklace would've pulled at your heartstrings a little more. Just... Just a hug felt wrong to Oscar.

Why doesn't she love me back?

I whisper of a thought in his mind responds, Maybe it's got to do with Lando. Maybe she just simply doesn't love you because she loves Lando more.

He swallows a lump in his throat, pushing that thought out of his mind with, No, Oscar. She said she's got nothing more with Lando than she's got with you. You need to trust her. You know you love her. Therefore, trust her.

Of course, naturally, Oscar has no idea that he really shouldn't trust you.

Prompted by his thoughts, Oscar suddenly asks you, ignoring your own question, "Did Lando get you anything for your birthday? Just asking, because, you know, he had said he had something...?"

"Oh, yeah!" you exclaim. Oscar can't help but recognize the way your face lights up at the mention of merely Lando's name. You continue, "He got me a free weekend to a spa for two people!"

"Oh. You're going to a spa with him?" Oscar says slightly absently.

You laugh. "No, he suggested probably one of my friends. Lando would've told me if he wanted to go."

"Ah, right. Of course."

"Oscar?" you suddenly say, concerned, leaning closer. You place your hand on top of Oscar's drumming fingers on the wheel, forcing the nervous movement to stop. "Is something wrong?"

"Hmmm..." he sighs. Oscar, you've just got to make a move. A real move. Lando is loud, impulsive, fun. He wouldn't second guess.

Maybe you should take a hint from Lando.

Maybe she just needs to see, feel, experience me.

That doesn't sound right.

That doesn't sound like me.

Oscar closes his eyes, leaning back, entwining his fingers around your hand.

I'm not Lando Norris. So is that it?

That's it. I'm just not Lando Norris.

But despite the proclamation in his head, he snaps himself out of it. "Just... thinking back on the race. Sorry."

"Are you sure you're okay, Osc?" you lean in, more concerned.

It's like Oscar can feel his heart being squeezed, warmed. And another, louder, sudden thought enters his mind:

You won't let her go, Oscar, and you know that. You'll fight for her. You'll change for her.

You'll never be Lando Norris, but maybe you've just got to quit overthinking and start acting.

"Alright!" he says, a quite sudden smile appearing on his face as he squeezes your hand. "Yeah, I'm sure." He smiles, bringing your hand to his mouth to gently kiss the back of it.

He doesn't really see the blush on your cheeks when he does that.

He lets go of your hand and says, "Alrighty, let's go. I've got somewhere to bring you."

When you get to the destination, you laugh. "Oscar, it's just a park! You made it seem like you had this big thing planned."

"Oh," he smiles a bit. "Well, sorry. Do you have something against parks?"

"No- I'm just saying-"

"Yes, sure, whatever." He suddenly snatches your hand as he says, "Let's just go for a nice walk."

It's not common for Oscar to just take your hand like that, so confidently. Lando? Sure, all the time. But not really Oscar...

But you kind of like it.

As you walk, you just chat, until you're sure you've walked the entirety of Monaco before Oscar finally gestures to a lone bench in a solitary area, and you sit down together, hands still latched.

But you let go of his, saying with a chuckle, "I just... You know, my hands are sweaty."

"Oh, sure, of course. Mine probably are, too," he responds, running a hand through his hair.

You watch him intently as he does this, and reply a few seconds too late, "Oh, no, no, they're not! I like your hands."

And you immediately blush at the fact you actually just told Oscar Piastri that.

But he looks over with that little crooked teasing smile of his and says, "Do you?"

You grin back and shrug. "Hell yeah."

"Hm. I'll keep that in mind, then."

That makes your mind immediately wander to what he could mean, and you feel bad for what you immediately think of.

Regardless, your face flushes.

And then Oscar makes the decision that he's wanted to make for months, and probably years. His twinkling eye meets yours as he says, "You like my hands? Well I like your lips."

Your breath catches and butterflies well up in your stomach as Oscar leans in closer. His hand gently cups your chin as he looks you straight in your eyes, his softening by the second.

In the exact moment that he should just lean in and kiss you, he hesitates and asks, "Is it okay if I-"

"Oscar! Yes!" you say without thinking.

Yeah, yeah. There you go again. Not thinking again, in the exact moments that you should think about it the most.

Oscar leans in, his head tilting to the side slightly as his soft lips meet yours. Your head spins as he strokes your cheek.

It's not too long and not too short. He pulls away, gazing warmly into your eyes.

There was something different about Oscar's kiss. Lando kissed you and kept kissing you, as if he couldn't get enough. Oscar stopped as soon as he knew it was the perfect time for both of you to pull away. Lando's kiss was hungry, Oscar's wasn't really. He enjoyed it, but...

You don't know.

Oscar's more romantic.

You feel simply by the way he looks at you...

You feel like a jewel. You feel beautiful.

Physically, Lando's kiss was probably better. But emotionally, Oscar's...?

You never knew Oscar could be this romantic. But, to be honest with yourself, Lando's kiss was hotter. Sexier.

God, you loved both.

You groan, falling into Oscar, throwing your arms around him.

Y/n! Y/n! You're comparing the kissing styles of the two guys you kissed without the other knowing!

They both think you're theirs!

"Are you okay?" Oscar immediately asks. "Listen, I'm sorry- Oh, God, listen-"

"No! Oscar, thank you..." you blurt shakily, leaning back to look at him.

"Uh... you're welcome..." He falters, before saying, "So... does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?"

Oh, God.

"Oh, uh, I don't think I'm ready for that- uh-" you begin nervously.

"Right," comes the brown eyed boy's curt response.

Oscar Piastri's vague clean scent fills your nostrils. Or perhaps it's the clean hotel sheets you lay in next to him. His soft touch massages your hand as you hum a song.

You know all the words, but you forgot the tune.

In another reality, he would kiss you and hold you and call you his. You would say without a fragment of a doubt that you are his girlfriend.

Like an arrow to your heart, his voice asks you once more: "Does this mean you want to be my girlfriend?"

You're leaning against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat, British voice speaking but saying nothing, and you begin, "Oh, uh, I-"

You wake up with a start, gasping. The last thing you remember of your dream was laying with Lando, about to tell him you love him.

What the hell, Y/n?

“What’s up?” you ask as you answer your vibrating cellphone.

Lando Norris on the other end responds, “Nothing much. What’s up with you.”

“Dunno. Just packing up to get ready to be leaving Monaco. But why’d you call?”

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lando suddenly says. “Why’re you leaving Monaco so early? Come on, now!”

You sigh with a little smile, rolling your eyes as you throw another shirt in your suitcase. “Lando, this country is uber expensive. There’s no way I’m staying here any longer than I have to. The hotel price is ridiculous, and the rest of the team is leaving, anyway.”

Lando tsks before saying, “Come on, now. You won’t have to pay for a hotel room for extra days, you know. You can stay at my place, duh.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, Lando. You really want me to stay in Monaco.”

“Of course I do. But you know I’d let you stay at my place anytime.”

“Mmmhm. I know…”

“So? What do you say?” Lando asks.

You hesitate, before saying, "Lan, I already told the team I'd be leaving on the plane with them..."

“For God’s sake, Y/n, then tell them you’re not, check out of that damn hotel room, and c’mere!”

“Come where?!” you ask in slight exasperation.

“Where do you think? My flat!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do that, jeez. Text me your address. But God, why are you getting so worked up about this?”

There’s more silence before the Monaco resident says softer, “I just really want to see you, is all.”

You raise your eyebrows and say softer as you zip up your suitcase. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Not good enough for you, princess?” he teases.

“No,” you breathe, a slight smile forming on your face as warmth spreads across it. “No, that’s perfectly, one hundred percent, all the way, good enough for me.”

“Good.” You can hear the grin in Lando’s voice. “Then I’ll see you in a bit, you beauty.”

When you arrive at his flat and he opens the door, Lando wraps his arms around you, patting your back, before letting you go. “Hey, wanna come to the living room?”

“Sure,” you nod, taking in the rooms you go through as he leads you to the living space. You’ve never been in Lando’s flat before, but you have to say, it is thoroughly impressive. Soon, you’re in the living room, and the two of you plop down on the couch together. You sink into it and lean back, saying, “This is comfy.”

Lando just takes your hand and says, “Thanks.”

But you look up at him with a soft teasing smile. “So, are you going to tell me why on earth you suddenly got so clingy? You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in three years! Just as a reminder, it was just two days ago.”

But Lando smirks, shrugging, and says teasingly, “Maybe I’m just a little obsessed…?”

“Obsessed?” you smile wider, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Oh, don’t flatter me.”

“Aw, why not? You’re cute when you’re blushing…”

“Lando, stop,” you snort, then add, “We’re supposed to be friends. I don’t think friends say this kind of shit to each other.”

“I like the way you say, ‘we’re supposed to be,’” the race car driver begins.

“Lando! We are friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be!” you respond firmer, but deep down, you have your doubts. Your extreme doubts. Because being with Lando, it never feels like a friendship anymore, and you both know everyday you get closer and closer to finally just admitting you’re dating.

And the only reason why you haven’t yet is because of the certain someone in the way. Oscar Piastri, the sweet Australian boy from your childhood and teenage dreams.

Who kissed you like he meant it yesterday at around this time.

You feel your stomach lurch at the thought.

How can I so shamelessly act like this with Lando, when I know twenty-four hours ago I kissed Oscar back?

You jump when Lando says, almost as if he could hear your thoughts, “Is something wrong?"

You look up in slight surprise, eyes wide. “Uh- of course not. Why do you ask?"

But Lando's frown deepens. "Y/n, stop that. You know I know you're lying. I can see it on your face when something is bothering you."

You bite your lip. "Nothing is."

Lando heaves a big sigh before suddenly pulling you into his lap.

You flinch and lean away in extreme embarrassment, "Lando, what-"

"Just let me hug you, hm? You always say you're fine when you're not and I just want to help you. Let me at least hug you."

You sigh deeply and slowly let yourself lean into him. He strokes your hairline gently, and begins rambling. Lando Rambling, but in a gentle whisper.

You swallow back the huge lump in your throat, and despite your squeezed shut eyes and your raging mind, it's nice.

Until Lando is gently shaking you, and your eyes flutter open as you realize you had fallen into a calm, dreamless sleep against him. You feel his soft, nearly heavenly chuckle vibrating in your ear before you lean your head off his chest slowly. "Rise and shine, princess. You went right to sleep."

You yawn. "Shit, sorry about that..."

But Lando beams. "It's okay. It was cute. And do you feel a bit better now?"

You sigh and nod. "Yeah. I do, actually."

"Good," he grins, eyes twinkling, and leans in to give you a kiss on your cheek. "You probably just needed a nice big long nap."

You sigh.

If only it was as simple as that, Lando.

When I'm with Oscar, he seems like the obvious choice. But then I'm with Lando and he's so sweet and caring and loving and understanding and lighthearted and fun and handsome and perfect and-

And then he seems like the obvious choice.

Oh, Oscar. I couldn't stand to break your heart of gold, though.

And suddenly you freeze as Lando seems to read your mind for a second time, his voice saying softly near your ear, "Is it okay if I call Oscar?"

You snap your head back to meet Lando's eyes. "What reason have you got to call Oscar...?"

“So he can come over.”

You stare at him like he’s the craziest man alive. “Come again?”

“So he can come over and join us, Y/n. But you heard me the first time.”

“What’s your problem?” you asked quite bluntly.

“What’s yours?”

You stare at Lando, completely at a loss for words. Feeling slightly called out, to be honest. You breath deeply, before, with much effort, finally forming the sentence under Lando’s expectant gaze, “Lando, you know that Oscar thinks we’re dating. Even though we’re obviously not. If Oscar shows up… Lando, there’s too much drama you don’t know about. That wouldn’t-”

Lando raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, and says, “I know more than you think I do.”

You swallow, anxiously licking your lips. “Why do you want Osc over?”

“I’ve got some things to talk about with you. And him. With the two of you.”

Your face scrunches up as you ask hopefully, “About work?”

“Nope,” Lando says sternly as he opens his phone, scrolling his contacts, looking for Oscar’s.

You’re starting to get nervous. Real nervous. “Lando, please,” you begin, your voice laced with a certain amount of fear as you take the man’s hand. “Lando, what are you trying to do? Why? Lando, I… I’m not ready… Can you talk to me first?”

Lando looks up at you. “You clearly know what I’m doing, then, otherwise you wouldn’t be so panicked.”

“Of course I do…” you breathe. How the hell did it come to this?

Why did I think Lando was stupider than this? To not see the writing on the wall? To not see what’s clear as day?

Lando leans in closer, wrapping both his hands around yours. He stares you straight in your eyes. Everything about his actions is gentle, but his voice is painfully stern as he begins nearly whispering, “Y/n. I’m sick of this, and Oscar is, too. And you’ve had enough of this, too, whether you think you have or you haven't. I understand to a certain degree what’s been going on, but I don’t think Oscar has allowed himself to. We need to, the three of us, talk this over and figure this out. Pretending isn’t going to do you any good any longer, Y/n. And I think me and Oscar can both agree on the fact that we just want the best for you, yeah? So I know this is hard, but if you wait any longer, the situation will just get worse and worse. And now I’ve figured you out, so let’s just deal with this together, the three of us, and be honest. Okay?”

You hesitate as your eyes start to water.

You feel like you want to throw up.

I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted it to come to this. I just wanted it to work itself out on it’s own. I didn’t want Lando or Oscar to know. I wanted to figure it out alone.

“Lando,” you sniff, your voice cracking. Lando leans over to one of the end tables to grab a tissue, which he uses to wipe a tear rolling down your cheek. As you continue to cry, he hands the tissue to you and begins holding your hand as you use the other to rest your heavy head against it.

You sit there together for a while as you just cry, working through the emotions of the last months. Once you’re finally done, Lando says gently, “It might not get any easier, but please, Y/n. If you’re honest with me and Oscar, I hope you know that we’ll always be ready to help you and be there for you.”

“I know that…” you sniff. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose either of you, Lando. I can’t stand to imagine losing either of you.”

Lando nods slowly, and murmurs, “I can’t speak for Oscar, but just so you know, whatever happens, no matter what, you’ll always be my friend. And I’ll always be there for you. M’kay?”

You nod slowly, wiping your eyes one last time, those words providing just enough comfort for the time being.

“Alright,” Lando says, gently patting your hand. “Can I call Oscar? I’m sure I’ll be able to convince him to come over.”

“Yeah,” you smile weakly. “Unless he’s still sleeping.”

Lando nods and grins as he picks up his phone again to call Oscar Piastri.

When Lando goes to open the door, you follow close behind him, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. When he does open it, a surprised Oscar immediately sees you behind him and exclaims your name in shock. "Why are you here?"

"I invited her, too," Lando replies confidently, as if this is all completely normal, looking Oscar straight in his sweet brown eyes.

"Ah," Oscar nods slowly. "I can see that." He smiles awkwardly at you as Lando brings him in. He mostly just looks thoroughly confused, but doesn't take his eyes off you for a second.

Soon, you're all seated around Lando's dining room table, you and Oscar on one side, facing a lone Lando on the other side, feeling like you're about to be interrogated.

While Lando doesn't ask, 'Where were you at the time of the murder?' he does say, "I think we've all got some thing to be honest about. Oscar, I mentioned it on the phone to you, but I think all three of us have got some... stuff to discuss."

Neither you or Oscar say anything. You're too nervous to speak, and Oscar's too confused.

Lando sighs, seeing neither you or Oscar have nothing much to say, and says, "Alright, then." He slaps his palms down on the table. "Oscar, you and Y/n... You'd like to date her, yeah?"

Immediately Oscar's eyes widen, and his hand tightens around his cellphone in his hand as his pale cheeks redden. "I- What sort of-"

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Oscar admits carefully, but sort of bluntly.

"I'd like to date Y/n, too."

Oscar stares at Lando. His grip on his phone tightens slightly, but that's the only sign of a reaction his body shows as he says softer, "Well, of course."

Lando's gaze averts to you.

You sigh. The awkwardness in the air is making it stuffy and hard to breathe. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut.

"Y/n?" Lando prompts.

Your words get caught in your throat, and instead comes out a weak cough.

Apparently Oscar takes it as a sob, because immediately his hand is on your back, and he's leaning close, saying softly, "Y/n. Are you okay?"

As you bury your face in your hands and nod, you don't catch the dirty look Oscar throws Lando, and Lando's effort to ignore it. Once you've caught your breath, you barely get out, "I love you both."

Oscar's hand slips off your back as Lando reaches across the table to take your hand in his.

"I- you-" Oscar begins, before his eyes turn on Lando. "You knew about this, Lando? You knew?" You can feel the stress and, frankly, anger, radiating off of him as Oscar says, turning to you, "Y/n, I told you if you loved Lando, you could let me go. I would've taken it..." He runs a hand through his hair. "I would've. Y/n, I swear I would've. Why'd you have to play with my heartstrings? Why'd you do that, Y/n? Why'd you do that to m-"

"Oscar, stop!" Lando suddenly snaps, standing up. "Don't you see the state she's in? This is harder for her than it is for you!"

"Just stop fighting," you barely whisper.

Neither men hear you as Lando grabs Oscar's wrist and tells you sternly, "Y/n, you just stay here. I'm gonna go talk with Oscar alone, if that's fine."

But Lando doesn't wait for your input before he tugs Oscar out of the room and slams the door behind him. You suppose it wouldn't matter much anyway. It's not like you would have any idea what to say, anyway, if you'd have been given the chance.

You stare ahead in a strange mixture of regret and dread. Fear of past decisions and fear of future decisions, too.

After the door slams, unbeknownst to you, Lando immediately shoves Oscar against the wall and snaps, "What the hell, man?"

A long breath exits Oscar's lungs as he stares back into Lando's hazel eyes. "What?" he sighs.

"Don't you see she's in distress? Give the girl a break-"

"I need to give her a break? Lando, I kissed her. Do you think I would've fucking done that if I knew she was seeing you? We can both say it was all friendships all along, but we also both know this's bullshit." Oscar gulps before muttering, "She's a fucking cheater."

"No, she's not!" Lando suddenly defends. "You just don't understand."

"Yeah! Clearly I don't," Oscar says gruffly.

"So are you going to let me explain what I think went on?"

"Why don't we hear it straight from her? You could very well be biased."

"Do you think she wants to say it? Oscar," Lando sighs. "Won't you just listen to me?"

Lando watches as the Australian bites his lip, before saying, "Have you kissed?"

"Once."

"Same..." Oscar hesitates once more before asking, "So it's just the 'friend' thing? She's in love with both of us so she's been convincing herself she can stay both our friends forever."

"Well... right. And neither of us knew that was going on, and... Yeah, you know."

"How'd you find out?"

"It became too obvious. But Oscar, you've had your suspicions before the beginning."

Oscar sighs, staring down. "Right. So. She denied it because she loved us both."

"That's what I'm reckoning."

"What did she think she'd accomplish? Why did she think letting that happen would do any good? We both thought she was single. And technically, she was, but not really, because, we- you- I- you- you know..." Oscar trails off before dragging his hand across his face and leaving it over his eyes. "Oh, God."

"It's complicated," Lando nearly whispers.

"You... You can say that again..." Oscar breathes, his voice cracking as his other hand goes to his face, his pointer and middle finger pressing hard into his temple.

"Oscar?" Lando suddenly asks, his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Shit... I don't know..."

"Oscar, are you-"

"No- I mean, I am, but-"

Oscar is interrupted by Lando's arms suddenly wrapping around him in a hug and Lando murmuring, "Now both of you are crying?"

Oscar, despite himself, finds his face falling into Lando's shoulder as he begins, his voice just slightly hoarse, "I'm not crying, by the way. It's just... Lando, I've been in love with her for years; I swear, probably a decade by now. And I've known her literally my whole life. A part of me just always expected she'd always be there and I'd always just... that I'd always have enough time to wake up one morning and ask her out. I should have done it quite literally years ago. But I didn't and that's why we're here now, me feeling as if I have more of a right to her love, though really, I'm not worthy of her at all." Oscar lets out a shakily breath before adding, "I regret it so, so much, Lando."

Lando's arms around him tighten. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Osc, I just want her to be happy. But I know her dating me isn't the solution. Because she'd be devastated to date me but not you, and vise versa. She's head over heels for us both."

Oscar gulps. "Well, then what the hell do you suggest?" He leans away from Lando, wiping at his eyes with his thumb.

"Oh, Oscar," Lando sighs deeply. "I don't fucking know."

After that, the two stand in silent contemplation, worrying, pondering. Feeling. Emotion. Passion. Pain.

Before Lando finally says carefully, as if walking on eggshells, "...What if we both dated her...? Just kept doing what we've been doing, but the other one knows about it, so she doesn't have to feel guilty about it, but we both still... you know, get to date her?"

Oscar bites his lip. "Couldn't that get complicated?"

"Of course it could..." Lando trails off, before picking up more positively, "But sometimes the easier way isn't the right way, Oscar. We both know it'd make her happier to date us both. And we both know we'd both be happier if we could date her, yeah?"

Oscar's silent, considering, his eyes slightly glazed over, despite the battle that's going on inside his mind.

"Osc...? Osc, please, mate. I think it's the best shot we've got. It'd mean the world to me-"

"Yeah," Oscar suddenly interrupts with a nod, leaning off the hallway's wall. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. We can try that Lando," he says curtly, almost hollowly as he suddenly reaches for the door handle back to the dining room where you sit.

But right before his hand meets the knob, Lando snatches it away in his own, pulling Oscar to face him again.

Oscar can't help but feel awkward at how close his face is to the other Formula 1 driver's, and averts his eyes to the floor because of this.

But Lando responds simply, "Oscar, look at me. In my eyes."

Oscar sighs and looks up, meeting the strong eyes of Lando Norris. "What?" he barely whispers.

"Thank you so much, okay?" Lando murmurs, squeezing Oscar's hand.

To Oscar, everything seems wrong. Why is he standing with his teammate, his rival, this close, holding hands, with such intense eye contact? This should be just him and you. Lando shouldn't be a part of this.

How was he so stupid to let Lando ruin it all?

Oscar, just try to trust Lando? Maybe he's right? You can conform for now, but don't conform with malice. Only allow yourself to feel anger towards Lando after it all falls apart because of him.

"'Kay," Oscar mutters back.

"And, listen, Oscar. I hope you know you can trust me. I care about you, too. So much. I like you so much. So, please. Just be real with me. M'kay?"

"Of course... Can we go back and see Y/n now?" Oscar mumbles, feeling slightly uncomfortable at Lando's extreme sincerity.

Alright, maybe more than just slightly uncomfortable.

"Sure," Lando nods, and the two men come walking back in.

They sit down, and once they've finished explaining to you their idea, you ask, "So, you're saying we all date? The three of us, together?"

"Yeah," Lando responds with a smile at the same time as Oscar responding, "Well, sort of-"

Both your pairs of eyes turn to Oscar. He swallows and adds, "I mean, yeah. Of course. Just sounds weird to me, for three people to be dating, but it's just because I'm not used to it, you know? It's good. It's fine."

"Oscar, are you sure you're okay with that idea?" you venture.

But there's no way Oscar's going to say anything but a convincing, "Of course!" after the way he saw your eyes immediately light up in hope when Lando explained his idea of the three of you dating.

So you nod, taking that answer, but just ask one more tentative question, "So, you two... you're okay with... you.. you know..."

Before Oscar's brain can even completely comprehend what you're asking, Lando throws his arm around Oscar's shoulders and exclaims, "Of course, Y/n! Me and Osc get on great! Plus, he's not so bad himself-"

And in that moment, you witness Lando lean into kiss Oscar's cheek just as Oscar turns to look at Lando to speak and-

Lando ends up pecking Oscar on his lips.

Oscar's eyes practically pop out of his head, and Lando, to be honest, looks somewhat surprised himself. But you're sure Oscar's brains are about to begin running out his bright red ears as his whole face goes fire hydrant red. "Oh..." he just manages, his hand dragging over his lip.

Lando laughs slightly awkwardly, deciding to pretend he meant to do that. He gives the other driver a pat on his shoulder before saying, "You know, Y/n, you know how flustered Oscar can get with you? Imagine how bad it could be with me. You know, me being so hot and sexy and-"

You giggle nervously and interrupt, "Yeah, yeah, Lando. I get what you're saying."

As the visit at Lando's flat goes on that day, you and Lando loosen up a fair amount at the whole prospect of the three of you dating, but Oscar doesn't seem to budge. Oscar ends up leaving early, so before you go to bed that night, you stop to bring up your nervous concern to Lando: "Lando, I just don't know if Oscar wants to do this... I mean, he doesn't seem comfortable... I just... I think he really doesn't like the idea of dating another guy... I mean, maybe he's- you know, he's not- He doesn't have those feelings for men-"

"Oh, gosh, Y/n, don't worry about that," Lando reassures you and himself, quite honestly. "He'll come around. Oscar just needs time." He adds with a tease, "I mean, who can resist me?"

"You're suggesting you're so hot you can turn straight men gay?" you ask, completely unimpressed, crossing your arms.

"No, no! Trust me, Y/n, Oscar Piastri is not a straight man to even begin with."

"But-"

"Shh. You're probably just tired. Go on, you're eyes are shutting on themselves. Just lean on me."

"But Lando-"

He pecks your lips and murmurs close to your ear, "I've got you here, Y/n. Leave all your worries for tomorrow morning, and until then, I'll deal with the rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure," Lando comments, yawning himself as you sigh, resigned, and snuggle into his chest.

You're practically out cold within minutes, which leaves Lando time to sit alone with his thoughts, stroking your hair, worrying and thinking.

What if she's right? What if this just isn't going to work with Oscar?

I thought maybe he'd be more open.

Oh, God. I don't want to hurt either of them, one bit. I love Y/n. I know I do, and I have for so long now.

And Oscar? I'm so fond of him.

Ah, here I go again. Fuck me and my distracted, wandering, boyish heart.

Just like with Carlos. Just like with Daniel.

I don't know I feel it until in one moment, one instance, they smile in a certain way or say a certain joke or do a certain thing in a certain way and-

And suddenly I'm mad in love with yet another person.

Oh, Lando Norris. If only you could date everyone in the world you ever loved.

Then I'd be dating a lot more than just two people. And on the first day of dating two people, it's already a mess.

And it's all my fault.

I guess I'll just have to be the one who fixes it all, then, too.

"Oh, uh, good morning!" you chuckle as you see both Lando's and Oscar's heads turn almost in unison when you enter the room in McLaren HQ. "When did you two arrive in the U.K.?"

"Yesterd-"

"This morning!" Lando beams, throwing his arms around you.

"Oh, alright," you chuckle again. "It's so nice to see both of you..." You smile awkwardly as Lando pulls away and Oscar pats your shoulder when a sudden thought comes into your head.

Is this something the three of us should keep a secret?

Strangely (and stupidly) enough, you forgot to discuss that.

"Hey, uh, it's great you're both here right now. I've got to talk to you about, uhm- some of the media plans we have for you regarding Canada... Let's talk in the hall; don't want to disturb people working in here."

Lando raises his eyebrows as Oscar takes on a perplexed look. Once you're out in the hall together, you lean close and are about to speak when Lando interrupts with a smirk, "So, anyway. What about those... 'media plans' 'regarding Canada'...?"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you grin, realizing how much in just a little over a week away you missed Lando.

Oscar suddenly gently takes your hand by your side and says, "Oh, come on, Lando. Y/n, what did you want to say to us."

And you suddenly realized how much you missed Oscar, too, in only a little over a week.

"Well," you start, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "About this... relationship... Should we... you know, keep it a secret?"

"I... think so," Oscar says carefully, squeezing your hand. "Imagine the media's response. And the fans: the fans would be unbearable."

Lando crosses his arms and whines, "So you're saying I can't even show my affection for you two? Oscar, we're always on camera."

Did Lando just say you two? you can't help but suddenly wonder.

"Maybe you are, but there's ways of avoiding it," Oscar comments, not seeming to hear.

Hm. Maybe I heard wrong.

Because deep down inside, despite your secret desires, you know that Lando and Oscar just agreed to this for you, and have no specific liking for each other.

And that's the thing that's making you nervous that this whole thing has no chance of working out.

"Boys. I agree with Oscar," you sigh. "Lando, I work in marketing and public image type stuff. If anyone knows about this, it's me. And I agree with Osc. It'll do us no good to make this public. Let's just keep it on the down-low."

"Can we at least make a compromise?" Lando ventures.

"Go on," you sigh.

"We can at least still keep acting like we're mad in love with you," Lando laughs. "Because we've been doing that this whole time. Just no one has to know about the dating. I mean, it'll seem off if that suddenly stops."

You bite your lip but murmur, "Fair enough."

Lando grins and comments, "I gotta meeting now. See you two later," giving each your shoulders a pat.

Once Lando is gone, you turn to Oscar and murmur, letting go of his hand to touch his arm gently "Hey, Oscar. Are you alright?"

Your childhood best friend looks to you, a smile immediately forming on his face. But his eyes remain a bit hollow, a bit sad. "Of course I'm alright. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know... You haven't seemed yourself today, I guess is all."

Of course she says that, Oscar thinks. She's the one that knows me best, anyway.

"I don't? Well, I'm fine... I'm sorry if I don't seem it," Oscar responds, attempting to brighten his smile. "Anyways, I've got to be off, too, actually," he says, checking his expensive watch. He leans in to peck your lips as his hand brushes your waist, before waving and offering, "Catch you later, lovely!"

The combination of his affectionate gestures and him calling you 'lovely' kind of makes your head spin.

You lay next to Lando, absently stroking his cheek and chin, feeling his facial hair, as he holds you close, tracing sweet words with his gentle fingers into your back.

You sigh, completely contented in the practically perfect moment. You're in Spain, and it's Saturday night- the Spanish Grand Prix is tomorrow. You ended up taking the last Grand Prix weekend in Canada off, for your spa weekend. Either way, before the race tomorrow, Lando invited you for some snuggles in his hotel room, and there's no way you could say no to that.

So here you are.

But suddenly Lando whispers, "Do you think I should invite Oscar?"

Your heavy eyes seem to immediately open and sharpen at this suggestion. You take a moment to ponder his question, before asking one of your own instead of answering his: "Lando, do you like Oscar?"

"Y/n, of course I like Osc-"

"No, no, Lando. I mean... you know..." you begin carefully, "Do you like Oscar the way you like me?"

There's silence in the room as the air conditioner becomes deafeningly loud suddenly. You can hear a long, slow sigh escape from Lando's lips, into the air, before he slowly says, "Oh, Y/n. I've liked lots of people the way I've liked you in the past."

You smile a little. "I know. You're Lando Norris, for God's sake. Of course you have. But today, right now, in this moment, do you like Oscar the same way you like me?"

Lando presses his forehead into your shoulder before uttering quieter, "If I did, it wouldn't matter."

"Why not?" you prod.

"Because, Y/n, there's no way he likes me in the same way he likes you."

You sigh slowly, feeling a slight pang at hearing those words. You wrap your arms around Lando and pull him closer to you. "What do you like about Oscar...?" you whisper.

"Oh, fuck me, Y/n. Everything. His stupid sense of humour, the way he laughs at all my jokes, the way he looks at me with those brown eyes, the little birth marks all over him, how polite and calm and cool-headed and cooperative and agreeable and smart and sensible and friendly and genuinely good he is. His voice, too! His mentality. Don't fucking tell anyone this, or I will kill you, but I even like the way he's a little bit taller than me. I love his stupid hair and his big smile. His hands... I love them. I love everything about him. I love him, and it's like it all just hit me. I don't know, Y/n. I just don't know."

You lean in and peck his lips before whispering, "Oh, Lando Norris. I love him, too, for all the same reasons. And I love you, too."

"The thing is, Y/n," he barely whispers, "that he'll never, ever love me back."

That feels like a stab to your heart.

You can't imagine how it feels to Lando.

You cuddle him so close, and you hold each other so close, that you can feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Lando," you whisper. "I wish it could all just work out."

"Me, too, Y/n.

"Me too."

"Heyyy, Osc!" you grin, knocking on his open driver's room door. "You feeling good for the race?"

He smiles to see you in the door. "Yeah, I am. Come on in. Thanks for coming to see me, Y/n."

"Of course. It's a treat to see your handsome face."

He beams wider but rolls his eyes, "Oh, yeah?"

"Of course!" you giggle a bit.

"Well, do I get my pre-race hug, then?"

You grin and throw your arms around him, giving him a big kiss on his cheek, "You'll also be getting a post-race hug, too, when you win it!"

"Well, I guess that's always the goal, but we'll see about that." He leans back to look at you, gazing so warmly, so intensely for just a second, into your eyes, before looking away. He opens his mouth to say something, but then quickly closes it.

"What is it, Oscar?" you prod.

"I just wanted to say I love you."

You grin. "Don't ever hesitate to say that again. You don't need to, because I love you, too. And you and Lando better stay safe out there on the track today for me, okay?"

"Oh, alright, and the rest of the grid can all die; they don't matter," he teases.

"Oh, shut it, you!" you laugh, exiting his driver's room with a wave, "Go on and get ready for your race now!"

"Bye!" he laughs.

"Bye, bye, Osc!"

You lay on the bed in Lando's hotel room where you laid just last night, but this time, there's two people laying with you rather than just one.

Oscar is fast asleep on your right side, his right arm draped over your body and his head resting against your shoulder. Lando is on your left, still awake, gently rubbing your left hand absently as he runs his hand through his messy curls.

"Do you think Osc-"

"Ah-" Lando exclaims softly with a little flinch. "I thought you were sleeping already!" he laughs a bit.

You nod, waiting a few seconds before reasking your question, "Do you think Oscar is feeling better about the whole thing?"

"Oh, God, Y/n, I don't know. I think he's just kind of rolling with the punches," Lando sighs deeply. "He just wants you. He'll do anything to have you. Even sleep in the same bed as me."

"Oh... right..." you sigh, wrapping your arm around the sleeping Oscar, pulling him closer to you as you rest your head in the little nook between Lando's cheek and shoulder.

You shut your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep, but your thoughts are raging, just like Lando's.

Why can't it all just be right? Why does it have to be so difficult? Is this the right thing? Should we give up on it?

Why can't the three of us just be right for each other?

This whole mess is all your fault, Y/n.

Your uncertain heart pounds in your ears, faster and faster, making you nearly go insane.

[icyg4l]

PAC: How Does Your Higher Self Define Womanhood?

Hello, beautiful people. Today marks the last post of the Women’s History Month series & one of two posts made today! I am excited to continue to create content for you guys. And I am even more grateful for the support I have received as of lately. Because of this, I will continue to post creative tarot readings. So, without further ado, please pick your pile.

Left-to-Right: (1-4)

Pile 1: Pile One, your story reminds me of the Miss Congeniality plot. Basically, Sandra Bullock plays a detective that goes undercover as a beauty pageant contestant. At first, she rejects the ideas of what it means to be a “girly girl” but eventually conforms to the standards. She viewed femininity as a sign of weakness and did not like being around other women because she felt that she had to prove herself to be tough. But she gained respect for the girls who worked in these pageants as she worked undercover because she began to acknowledge the hard work it takes to be in the pageants. By the end, she is closer to her womanhood. You have a similar story. I doubt that you’re a detective reading this but I feel as though you may have the tendency to thoroughly investigate any piece of information. To your higher self, womanhood means constantly being on the search for answers to placate the inner child wounds that lie within you. I feel like when you were younger, you may have been an outcast or a tomboy, maybe both. Because of this, you have set a lifelong quest to figure out what being a woman means to you whether it is intentional or not. Your higher self wants you to know that being a woman comes with all types of trauma, but remembering that you do not have to face it alone. You do not have to carry the burdens alone. You see, women are conditioned to be demure for the sake of keeping the peace but that’s not what works for you. Embrace the messy parts of yourself because if you don’t, life will get boring. Part of your mission is being aware of your multifaceted nature; reject conformity, embrace the abnormal, babe.

Cards Used: The Sun, 4 of Cups, 4 of Swords, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, The Magician, 5 of Cups, 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords.

Signs: Aquarius, Libra, Leo, Sagittarius.

extras: money getter. cash grabs. “low hanging fruit.” airhead. wallpaper. phineas and ferb. “sharon.” beetles. s.o.s. by rihanna. “tinge of an accent.” sweet. mirrors. coconut trees. hawaii. stubborn. radioactive.

Pile 2: Pile Two, there is a similar vibe that you have to Pile One, except I don’t think that you have problems with accepting your femininity. I think that you have problems with how masculines function in society. I am sensing a Lori Harvey type of energy here. This is likely related to the way that you operate when it comes to love. People tend to want to possess you so that they can show you off like a trophy. But your higher self wants you to know the difference between users and the genuine thing. I feel like you’ve developed this flighty persona to protect yourself from harm. While experiencing the many tribulations of womanhood, you have adopted the “flights over feelings” type of mindset. How has that been working out for you? No, really. Is it actually working or have you convinced yourself that it has. As a woman, your higher self thinks that womanhood is finding love in a loveless world. This isn’t necessarily about romance, but it’s just a mindset that you should adopt. It will save you from falling victim to the cycles of toxicity that plague society. It’s a cold world out here, babe but it doesn’t mean that you have to be as cold as the world. Part of your mission is forgiving yourself and those who hurt you so that you can see the beauty in the world. With this newfound sight of beauty, there comes true inner power.

Cards Used: The Devil, 7 of Discs (RX), 8 of Wands, The Hierophant, 3 of Swords, 3 of Cups, 10 of Discs, The Star, 10 of Cups (RX).

Signs: Capricorn, Cancer, Scorpio, Virgo.

extras: two can play that game. all about love by bell hooks. renegade. open arms. country music lover. tony montana. archer (2009). “logan.” phoenix rising. “marcus.” ashy. corny. cerebellum. stupendous.

Pile 3: Pile Three, your higher self defines womanhood as something that is both sweet and sour. It is something that she takes for granted but it is also something that she takes pride in. It’s a strength but also a weakness. I feel like I am talking to someone who has an ingenue/youthful spirit. I channeled the character Darla from The Little Rascals but I also channeled Charlotte from Princess and the Frog. You seem to be very in tune with your inner child and there is nothing wrong with that. Your inner child is heavily protected by the teenaged version of yourself, which seems very angry. These different versions of yourself often clash with one another, which can lead to bouts of depression and confusion. Your higher self is a woman who pours into herself through movement and self-expression. You need to channel these negative energies into creativity or else you will be stifled by your own thoughts. You honestly need to get out of your head. Your higher self feels as though there is a flip side to every coin that you get. For example, if you are having period pains, it may hurt but at least you’re not pregnant! Looking on the brighter side of life is how you can be closer to your higher self.

Cards Used: 5 of Swords, 6 of Swords, Page of Swords, Justice, 4 of Cups, Ace of Cups, Ace of Discs, 5 of Wands, The Hanged Man.

Signs: Leo, Pisces, Aries, Gemini.

extras: janet jackson. “i’m da man.” we will rock you. parties. diva. elle magazine. shapely. “how’d you figure?” honest answers only. maya angelou. glorilla. lola bunny. fatigue. body aches. deodorant. small bowls. annual. prayers. mark on the cheek. boot camp. “your highness.” shredded cheese. livelihood.

Pile 4: And last but not least, Pile Four. I feel like you are well sought after in the most lusty way possible. This has its perks, but lately, you feel like it has more cons than anything. I feel like you’re someone who always seems to feel isolated because of this. As a result, your higher self views womanhood as foreign. The amount of power that you hold as a woman is beyond explanation. There are so many ways that you can present yourself, Pile Four. I don’t think you have realized your true potential. Yes, you have gone through trauma because people assumed that you could handle the weight of the world but this means nothing to your spirit. Wake up! Don’t you realize how unique you are? Pile Four, womanhood can really only be defined by you, not by anyone else. The prioritization of yourself will help you make a name for yourself. You could be in your 20s, tired and just wanting a change. Well, your higher self wants you to know that change will come once you begin to change the narrative yourself. If you believe something about yourself that was told to you by someone else, then it means that you’re easily moldable. Being a woman means rising to the top even through the facings of opposition. You are a fighter. So the question is: when are you going to jump in the ring and fight for your sense of self, Pile Four.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups, Queen of Wands, 3 of Discs, Knight of Discs, Ten of Swords, 4 of Discs, The Hermit, Queen of Swords, 9 of Discs.

Signs: Gemini, Pisces, Cancer, Virgo.

extras: “tart.” “fresh out the shower.” burgundy. melons. net worth. SWer. dollar bills. illegal documents. molly. friendless. stoned. be your own boss. cake baker. sister, sister. wiseman. silly goose. fall. saturn.

[star-girl69]

Guilty Pleasure

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: after weeks full of stress and homework, all you want to do is have a nice evening with your girlfriend. but it’s hard to let yourself do that when she’s working herself to death to prepare for hockey championships.

a/n: wow i’m a genius… based off of this ask!! i hope you all enjoy!! STREAM TOUGH BY LANA AND QUAVO‼️‼️‼️

a few notes:

shoutout to my wonderful sister wife @lovinpelova read her kk fic it’s amazing ILY AND OUR WIFE 🫶

and rip to laila’s ability to go live 💔💔

Guilty Pleasure - Chappell Roan

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, i don’t know anything about college please spare me, college scares me, i’m scared, anyways, texting if that triggers y’all, the tiniest bit of angst, y/n is kinda like insecure and all self deprecating LOL, umm a little bit of kissing, hurt/comfort!!!!!!!! kinda!!!!, swearing, ending sucks so bad, this sucks, whatever, i think that’s all let me know if i missed anything!!

—-

“Y/N,” your roommate groans into the stillness of your room. Besides for the natural humming of the building, it’s midnight, a school night, and the dorms are mostly silent. “Y/N, please. Turn off the lights and go to bed. You can’t keep studying, babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, standing up from your desk and flicking the light switch on the wall. You hear your roommate, Jackie, let out a sigh of relief.

Immediately, you sit back down, flipping the desk lamp on.

“Ugh, no, babe. That’s not what I meant- you need to sleep.”

“I have to study.”

Jackie had it so easy- you’ve never seen her study for any test, ever, yet she always comes back with 90’s on whatever assignment it is. Not you. No, you work your ass off and get an 80- if you’re lucky.

“You’ve been studying all weekend,” she groans. “You can’t do anything about it now, trust me. Whatever happens, happens. All you can do now is sleep.”

You’re silent, trying to cram just a few more vocab words into your head.

“Y/N, please!”

A pillow hits your head.

“Bitch!” You yell, glaring at her. Maybe you did really think she would be smiling at you, but she’s not. She’s looking at you with real concern in her eyes.

“Babe. I can see the dark circles under your eyes from here.”

And if you’re honest, the words on the pages are starting to blur, you can’t process anything- you know she’s right. You’re not helping yourself at this point, but you’re too scared to just give up and go to bed. What if you stay up for one more minute and it completely saves your ass tomorrow?

“Maybe you should call KK?” Jackie says, tentatively, but you’re not even looking at her anymore. “I won’t even complain that you’re whispering.”

“She’s probably asleep,” you mutter. “She texted me today, they had a really hard practice.”

“Yeah, but she’ll answer if you call. We both know she will.”

“No, I’m not bothering her. I’ll go to bed, okay?”

You meet Jackie’s eyes, and she looks you up and down.

“Okay.”

But she doesn’t settle, not when you’ve flicked the light off. You can see her when your eyes adjust, she doesn’t lay down until she sees you in bed, covers pulled up to your chin.

It’s only when you finally firmly squeeze your eyes shut that you hear the rustling of her settling into bed.

“Goodnight,” she murmurs, concern in her voice.

“Goodnight,” you say back.

She’s right. She’s completely right about everything.

She’s close with KK and the rest of the team you’ve come to known like family just like you. KK would answer you. She always has notifications turned on for you and you for her.

And there’s nothing else you can do about this test tomorrow, you’re confident you’ll at least pass it, but since you’re not doing any sports like almost everyone else at this school, you feel like you should at least have better grades. But you just… don’t.

As you wrap your arms around yourself in the darkness, hoping Jackie’s eyes are closed and she can’t see you, all you can do is think about Caroline.

—-

hockey queen: r u still coming over??

you: yes ofc do u hate me and want me to die????

hockey queen: no ily ❤️

you: ilyt i’m getting food tn btw

hockey queen: ok babe wtvr u want 😍

After days of turning down every invitation to go out, after forcing yourself to stay home and feeling Jackie’s disapproving eyes on you every time you stayed up late- your last class of the week had finished.

It was Friday afternoon, the sky starting to turn a pretty grey that let you know rain was coming. This entire week had felt like a battle in the long war that was college, and you desperately needed a night in with a movie and some takeout to replenish yourself for the next week-long battle.

And you needed that night to be with Caroline. Desperately. Even though you knew she was working herself just as hard, with your workload and her busy hockey schedule these Friday nights were sacred, and weekly.

No one ever skipped a Friday night.

Even when you were under the weather with the most horrible headache you’ve ever been plagued with, Caroline still came over and rubbed you temples, talked to you to distract you in a soft voice and let you drool on her when you finally did fall asleep.

Even when Caroline was so exhausted from a hard practice, and all she had the strength to do was brush her teeth and change into sweats, you let her pass out on top of you and stayed put the rest of the night, rubbing her back, just to make sure she got her rest.

With championships coming up, you’re sure tonight will be another night in which KK is barely functioning, but as long as she’s just there, tangible, you’ll be fine.

That’s what you tell yourself, even as you walk across campus, letting your mind guiltily wander to you just finally stopping for one second, slowing down and confiding in her how fucking exhausted you were.

The rational part of you knew she would understand. But the insecure, childish part of you that was scared you’ll be seen as too needy, too much, overpowered everything else.

You needed whatever bit of Caroline she would give you.

You sighed, kicking a stick on the concrete path away at a particularly vivid fantasy of you absolutely sobbing in her arms. And it’s not like you haven’t cried in front of her before- what scared you about this guilty fantasy was how good it felt, even in this daydream, to let her in.

She works so hard. You can’t dump yourself onto her either.

—-

jacked 💪: do i have the dorm to myself tn??

you: yes 🤗

jacked 💪: inviting sexy boy from econ over

you: use protection ily

jacked 💪: BITCH ilyt

KK and Laila had the cutest apartment that wasn’t too far away, with a really pretty view out onto a street with lots of lights that almost made it feel like new york city.

Unfortunately, the rest of the apartment really did feel like the apartment of two college girls. There was perpetually dishes in the sink, the weirdest posters and inside jokes plastered onto the walls- you didn’t even try to understand them.

Laila likes to joke that she knows when it’s time to clean based on how bad your reaction is when you walk in. She decides they can go a few more days without cleaning. You roll your eyes, eating your takeout at the counter while you wait for your girlfriend to get out of the shower.

When she finally does emerge from her room, her slightly curly hair in its prettiest slightly wet form, dressed in comfy clothes- something immediately squeezes inside of your chest.

Maybe it’s your heart. Or maybe it’s a physical manifesting of nerves and guilt in that’s made its home in your chest. Whatever.

You can see the tiredness on her face when she walks over to where you sit, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek.

You ignore Lalia’s exaggerated gag.

“Come with me,” KK murmurs into your ear, and you don’t need to be told twice, stuffing your keys into your pocket and following her.

“Don’t be too loud!” Laila shouts after you, looking into the fridge to find a snack- you all know that fridge is in desperate need of a restock and a deep clean- “There are other people in this apartment, okay?”

“Shut up!” KK responds, holding onto your arm tightly and shutting the door behind you.

—-

After putting on some random movie from Netflix in the background, you were all too happy to throw yourself onto KK’s comfy bed, smiling when she let out an exaggerated groan, collapsing face down next to you.

“Aw, hard practice?” You fake cooed, and she nodded into her pillows. You played with a damp curl, twisting it between your fingers.

“So many bag skates,” she moaned. “I lost count. I swear I almost died. I saw the gates of Heaven.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yes,” she muttered in agreement, grabbing your hand playing with her hair and pressing it up against her face so she could trap you between her face and the pillow. “Everything hurts.”

The only light came from the flickering movie, and you could barely even hear it as you stared at her face. You press a kiss to her cheek and she smiles, and you sit up even as your own exhausted body screams at you.

She frowns when you take your hand away from her face, but doesn’t seem as bothered anymore when you straddle her legs and softly start to massage her shoulders.

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes falling shut. “Oh, my God, you could become a masseuse.”

You laugh, relishing in how intimate this moment feels, holding onto the feeling in your chest that erupted when she said “I love you” it’s not possible to feel guilt in this moment, shrouded in a haze that might be because of your droopy eyes but you tell yourself it’s because you love this girl so much.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” Caroline says after a second.

“I know,” you say after a long moment. Thinking of those long nights when you wanted to be selfish so bad. When you wanted her all to yourself. “Sorry. I’ve had, like, a lot of homework lately and stuff.”

“But the worst is over now?”

You heart squeezes at the hopeful edge to her tone.

It’s hard to find times when your schedules match. It hurts you, you know it hurts her, and sometimes these Fridays are the only thing that can keep you sane. You might actually end up in a mental hospital.

“Oh, um… I dunno. Hopefully, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, biting back a yawn. “I jus’ miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you say, so quietly it’s almost like a confession. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m about to fall asleep,” you groan, slipping off of her and back onto the bed.

Laying on your side so you’re facing her, you watch as she opens her eyes and smiles at you in that sweet, slightly goofy way you fell in love with.

She reaches out and softly touches your under eyes, where you know there’s noticeable dark circles. She frowns, ever-so-slightly, and the unspoken question is thick in the air.

“Jackie keeps getting all pissed off at me,” you say, breaking the silence, making sure she doesn’t ask that question: “have you been sleeping?” You’re fine. You’re fine. “She thinks I’m studying too much but no matter how many times I tell her I’m studying a pretty normal amount- she won’t let it go.”

“Are you studying a normal amount?”

There’s a slight teasing smile on her face, so you roll your eyes.

“Yes. I stay up a little late, like, once and it’s like it’s the end of the world.”

It’s not just once, and it’s not just a little late, but KK is so tired, you can see it on her face.

She laughs. “Jackie jus’ loves you,” she says after a yawn.

“Too much, maybe.”

She puts her arm around you, tugging you closer to her. “You deserve all the love in the world, baby.”

You smile like a cheesy schoolgirl. “Okay,” you say, pressing a short kiss to her lips. “Go to bed, please. You can barely keep your eyes open and it’s actually kinda scary.”

“Come here,” she groans, pulling you even closer until you’re pressed up right against her.

And before you can even think about what you’re doing, you let out a sigh and press your face into her neck. This might be your favorite place- where you can feel her heartbeat and the way her arm is wrapped around you.

Your chest squeezes when everything fades out for a second, tiredness you didn’t feel until you were in her arms suddenly coming out in the form of a yawn.

“Damn, you’re tired,” she whispers, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You try to mumble “so are you” but it comes out as an incoherent mumble that she chuckles at.

Just as you faintly realize that comforting sensation is her hand in your hair, scratching your head, guilt consumes you. She’s been working so hard at practice- and here she is comforting you? You’re not going to national championships like her. You’re not doing anything important- you’re just tired from getting mediocre grades.

Sluggish, you moan and try to move out of her comfort, something inside of you screaming that you don’t deserve it, but she only mistakes it as you shifting in your sleep and softly shushes you.

And just as you push off sleep enough to try and get out, her breathing evens out. So, you fall asleep press tightly into her arms, feeling so guilty you think it might actually destroy you.

—-

hockey queen: hi baby practice finished early can i come over?

…

hockey queen: are u studying

hockey queen: babe pls i’m bored

hockey queen: ok i’m coming over deal w it

You set your pen down, staring at the scribbles in the margins of your assignment- the actual questions still blank. You sigh, feeling pressure behind your eyes that you try not to let spill.

“Fuck,” you whisper, putting your head into your hands and allowing yourself one guilty moment to wallow in self-pity before you finish this fucking assignment.

It’s still early, but you know you should have done this simple one page of work before tackling the endless pages of review for another test you have tomorrow- now you’re so tired you can barely see, and your hand is cramping.

You softly scrunch your dominant hand into a fist before spreading it out flat, almost wincing at how sore it is. Is it even possible for your hand to be this sore? Covered in smudged ink, you debate going to the bathroom and washing your hands. Maybe you need to walk around, then you can get this one page done.

But all you can think about is that stupid test tomorrow, and maybe you should stay up late again, screw Jackie’s concern, study more-

The first tear that drops onto your paper shocks you a bit. And you feel so stupid for crying in the first place that you start crying more.

Pressing your face into your hands, you’re too tired to try and stop the tears, just letting them fall. Your mind races with thoughts of that stupid test, this stupid assignment- and some rational part of you knows that this is unhealthy- but it’s college, and it kinda feels like everything you do is a precursor for your adult life.

If you can’t juggle tests and homework- how are you going to juggle bills and work? Simple housework?

Someone knocks on the door.

You freeze for a moment, feeling your makeup run streaky down your face, eyes still full of tears and mascara messy-

“Y/N?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck. You know that voice, you know KK’s voice, you can hear her perfectly through the door.

And you’re just stupidly, completely frozen.

Maybe because part of you wants to just run into her arms.

And before you can make up some lie or do anything to get her to go away, she just opens the door, and you quickly turn away.

“Oh. Y/N,” she says, obviously very confused. “I figured you weren’t in here. Did you see my texts?”

“Uh,” you start, and you know immediately that she can hear the sadness in your voice. “No, sorry. I’ve been studying.”

“What happened?” She asks, and you would laugh at the way she looks around the room, almost as if someone is going to jump out. “You’re crying.”

“No,” you fake laugh, standing up. “Give me a second, there’s something in my eye-”

She grabs your wrist.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity and love in her voice makes you cry more.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’m just a little overwhelmed with school, I’ve had some late nights, it’s stupid that I’m crying over this. Seriously, babe, thank you- but it’s not that big of a deal.”

She’s got this kinda heartbroken look on her face, and you love her so much- you feel even more guilty for making her feel like this, for being the cause of the frown on her face, and you just want to go back in time and stop all of this from happening.

“…It is a big deal if it’s making you cry.”

You can’t say anything.

She wipes a few tears from your face. “You look exhausted, baby. I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’ve had a lot going on with school, but I know you, I know you’re tired and I think maybe-”

“I’ve had a few late nights, okay?” You finally meet her eyes, trying to convince her that you’re okay, because you feel so stupid and vulnerable and you can’t stand it when she has that concerned look in her eyes for you. “Like, not even that late. 2 A.M. isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not like it pays off, because my grades are still shit- but, whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine, okay? I’m sorry, I’m just not thinking straight, and- it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“You’re not fuckin’ fine, Y/N. Stop saying that, why are you pushing me away? You can tell me anything, I love you.”

She’s dropped her bag by now, her entire attention focused on you, one arm wrapped around your waist as if you might run away from her and the other softly brushing away the tears that continue to fall.

“I try so hard,” you say after a second. “I study so much. And I… I just can’t get good grades. And I just… I feel so guilty all the time, because I just want to spend time with you and I love you so much but you work so hard and I just don’t want to be another thing for you to deal with.”

And once it’s finally out, not curled up in your chest like a second heart leeching on the very essence of your being, the tears dry up.

Caroline softly smiles.

“What?” You ask, sniffling a bit, one step away from crying again.

“It’s just- how could you ever think that you would be something for me to “deal” with?”

“I dunno,” you say, slightly pouty as she helps you sit down next to her.

“You’re my favorite person in the entire world. I love you more than anything- even hockey, which is saying a lot. You’re never something for me to deal with, and I don’t do anything but smile anytime someone says your name, or you text me, or I get to see you- I’m sorry that it really sucks right now, with my schedule, and that you were feeling like this and I had no idea- but I really fucking love you.”

You smile softly. “You’re sweet,” you murmur, legs intertwining with hers. “I fucking love you too.”

She places her hand on the side of her face and kisses your nose.

“Don’t ever feel guilty for wanting to spend time with me. I’m never too tired for you. Besides, do you know what I think about during practice?”

“What’s right in front of you face?” You quip.

“Well, that, but also you. And, also, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with your grades. Don’t you have like an 89 in each class?”

“It’s not a 90,” you groan.

“Still better than me, I’m like all 85’s. And, you’re literally the only reason I’m passing that one class that I hate who’s name I don’t speak.”

You smile, angling yourself to face her, finding that you can’t think of anything poetic to say to tell her how much she means to you, so you just kiss her. Long and slow, trying to pour as much appreciation and emotion into it as possible.

“Okay, game plan, I help you finish whatever work you have, then have you eaten? I’ll get us food. Then, you’re going to go to sleep early, okay?”

“It’s a plan,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to that one piece of paper, tear stain dried on it.

Her face spurs adorably just at the sight of the homework from her least favorite class. “Oh, you’re gonna love me. Don’t worry, I got the answers from the really smart girl I sit next to.” She takes out her own sheet of homework from her bag on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles on her thigh before proudly handing it to you.

“Hm, I do love you. Just a bit.”

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”

And later that night, with your homework finally done, takeout boxes in the trash bin, and your head on Caroline’s chest- heartbeat in your ears, her lips on the top of you head- it feels impossible to feel guilty about loving her.

—-

Jackie walks in late, groaning to herself about the stupid kid in her study group who asks the most common sense questions- she quickly shuts up when she realizes you’re asleep in your bed.

“Thank God,” she breaths, grateful that she didn’t find you hunched over at the desk again.

She squints into the darkness, quickly realizing there’s two figures on her bed, and the other one is very familiar-

“What did I say?” Jackie mutters to herself. “Insufferably in love with each other.”

Then, she quickly snaps a picture before getting ready for bed herself.

—-

[dolicekiss]

Heyyyy,

could you write a one-shot, where fem reader is James Bond‘s niece and has accidentaly met her uncle in the city, kept following him and this is how she ends up in the casino? Bond realizes this pretty quickly, but can‘t save her from an intrigued Le Chiffre, who kidnaps her. (With Smut?)

Casino & Cash

PAIRING: Le Chiffre x Bond's niece!Female reader

CONTENT WARNING: kidnapping, dubcon, drugging, threatening, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is twenty, Le Chiffre is thirty five), hair pulling, bratty reader, choking, sadistic behavior, mention of blood, praise kink, degrading kink, forced oral (female receiving), forced fucking, knife play.

SYNOPSIS: The last person you expected to crash into was your uncle, in Montenegro, on his own vacation. You were warned to stay away from Bond, as the man was on a dangerous mission but because of your young curiosity, you found yourself following your uncle's trail. It didn't end well because when you entered the Casino, you not only caught your uncle's attention but a specific banker’s too; Le Chiffre.

You hadn't expected to find your own uncle at a store in Montenegro, shoppin for a tuxedo, especially when your own mother had warned you to stay as far as you could from him and his line of work.

Never were your whys and whats answered, only subtle orders left for you to follow.

You were stubborn. Wanted to know more about him, about what he did, just what did he do that was beyond your understanding.

“Listen to me—”

You interrupted him. “I will not. You always ignore us and never even visit us anymore. Mom keeps saying to let you be but we're family, are we not?”

You didn't like just how easily your uncle had abandoned you. Just for the sake of his all secretive, dangerous occupation. It didn't sit right with you. Everyday, your mother would miss her brother and hope that someday he'd visit but James Bond had his own plans, to save the world and rid it of terrorist organizations.

Bond let out a grunt of frustration. As if preparing himself for a game of tough poker wasn't already energy draining, he now had to deal with your stubbornness. “You don't understand. You're only a child, I do not wish you to even have knowledge about all this."

“A child?!” You exclaimed, clearly offended that he'd even thought of you as one. “I am twenty, an adult. You wouldn't know though. Last time you visited, I was only eighteen.”

You recalled back to his short visit. Only entering through the doors of your apartment, discussing a few words with your mother and then leaving after dropping a bar of chocolate on the wooden desk in front of you which he'd claimed was a souvenir brought from Japan.

A bar of chocolate — for an eighteen year old.

It pissed you off just how avoidant your own uncle was.

“Just because I don't visit often doesn't mean I don't keep an eye on my family.” You shook your head at that, staring at him with a pout like some petulant child. Your father had abandoned you when you were only a little girl and when James stepped in to take care of you, your attachment to him grew.

So when he too took off under the name of his dangerous work, you made it your mission to confront the man.

But the last thing you expected was to see him here. Strolling through the mall, coursing through the tuxedos hanging from the metal rod in a luxurious store. Your mother missed him but her reaction was not as extreme as yours.

Before you could utter out another remark of disappointment, your uncle dismissed you by answering a phone call. Then he left, just like that. He once again didn't bother to look back and you suppressed the urge to stomp your foot on the marbled floor in the middle of the mall.

But you weren't gonna sit idle.

So you got to it.

Following him — like a snake slithering after its prey and tracking down its every moment. Subtle or not. Pursuing him lead you to Casino Royale. It took you days to land yourself a place at the Casino Royale, all the opulence and wealth you possessed came in help. Coming from the Bond family, you had access to all the ancestral wealth as well as the money James Bond earned through his work.

Casino Royal was beautiful and glimmering in pure opulence, the type of place you usually avoided as you were not fond of rich scums that looked down upon everyone else and considered the lives of middle class and lower nothing but futile.

Draped in black satin, you made your entrance inside the casino. Quick to grasp the attention of multiple gazes but you focused only on your uncle, capturing his blue eyes.

Found you.

You sent him a short smug grin. Like you'd win, you had found him. Tracked him down no matter how hard he tried to conceal his tracks and not be found but he had forgotten that at the end of the day, you too were his niece and carried his intelligence.

Without knowing what you were stepping into, you moved across the room. In your naivety, you'd laid yourself bare to the lion that possessed the front seat. Le Chiffre watched you move with such grace, your hips almost dislocating with how blissfully you walked over to the table.

To you, you'd won this game of cat and mouse. Unbeknownst to the real danger that your uncle so desperately tried to protect you against. He did everything in his power to keep you concealed but your foolishness and stubbornness had lead you to step right in the lion’s den.

As you stood behind your uncle, you wrapped your arm around his broad shoulders. Everyone watched, but Le Chiffre analyzed the scene unfold before him. Finger tapping against his temple, the sight of you nearly making him lose focus on the game. He was more curious though — a craving to unwrap the mystery that you were.

You were not an agent.

If you were, he would have known.

When your face came next to Bond’s, the gears in his head turned. He tilted his head, stare running over the both of you in scrutiny before his brain snapped.

You were no damn agent.

Nor were you an accomplice.

He registered the similarities between the two of you. You beared a striking resemblance to the man you stood next to, the lips and nose nearly giving away your relationship to him. You were a relative and Le Chiffre’s mind already was coming up with ideas and ways to use you as leverage against his nemesis.

“See, I told you. You can't always escape me, dear uncle.” You whispered in his ear, a small giggle escaping you.

Completely oblivious to the man with the scarred eye who stared at you with heightened curiosity in his one, dark eye. The other still holding some remnants of human emotions.

Le Chiffre also noticed the nervousness that decorated Bond’s face. It was obvious he was sweating at your presence in the Casino, not fond of it at all. Your naivety was going to get you in danger, as he saw how the men in the room eyed you like you were some new piece of meat.

Bond was an egoistic man.

He didn't care about risking a few lives if it meant saving millions others. Sacrificing a few people was a game of chess for him but you.

You were family.

He couldn't possibly risk you.

Especially knowing his sister would unleash hell about you.

The man was in a fucking dilemma. He didn't know what to do, but right now progressing with the game was his ultimate goal and aim so he did. Brushing your small hands off his shoulders.

“Just leave and don't come back here.” He whispered, and you looked at him. His blue eyes held no sarcasm or hesitance. He was serious and the look he gave you caused a chill to dance up your arms.

With a pout of reluctance, you made another grave mistake by ignoring his order and walking away to the bar. Le Chiffre’s gaze followed you and when you plopped down on the velvety chair, you accidentally made eye contact with him.

Appalled at how attractive he was, despite the minor flaw of a scarred eye. His gaze drank you up, every drop of you. From the revealed ankles of yours to the slit in your dress. He found it irritating it that he couldn't peek further into the recess of your inner thighs, the gap closed as you'd tossed your leg over the other.

You were quite young. He could see that too and something primal rose up in his throat which he drowned down with a glass of cognac.

Bond knew things were going to go haywire, especially with the way you'd captured Le Chiffre’s attention. It was good as he could win the game of poker with you distracting him but he couldn't possibly allow himself to include you in all this. Knowing that once you're in, there's no way out. No way to escape the clouds of danger looming above your head.

Everytime Le Chiffre went in with his money, he stole glances from you. Following how your stained lips met the rim of the glass of martini — his own throat beginning to become parched. You weren't oblivious to his gaze but the aura that levitated off the man like a dark cloud of death was a warning enough to not give him any attention.

You only focused on your uncle, Bond’s sparkling blues finding you. Continuing to play the game but also worrying about you and how he'd face his sister if she were to find out her daughter was involved in James’ life threatening games.

You had both the men all over the place.

One with your beauty, other with your blood.

Three glasses of martinis and a reapplied lipstick later, the game had come to an end. It was your uncle who emerged as the winner and you couldn't control your joy. Immediately embracing him in a hug and smiling at him. All the people in the Casino watching you, curious to what your relationship with James Bond was.

“Uncle, you won.”

Le Chiffre heard that.

Oh he did and a small subtle grin passed when he did.

You had to be his niece. You couldn't be his sister, nor wife nor daughter. The man was an agent for god’s sake, he couldn't risk to harbor his own relationships. You had to be someone else's. Le Chiffre’s anger subsided because he had found the right leverage against James Bond.

“Don't call me that.” He said through gritted teeth — shaking his head in disappointment. You blinked your eyes, dumbfounded.

Le Chiffre left the room, after stealing a glance from you. Already making plans to kidnap you and bring you to his knees, use you into James handing over all the money.

Bond had lead you outside to the parking lot, angry and frustrated. You couldn't understand the depth of the situation. You were only cheering for him but you weren't aware that by referring to him as your uncle, you'd stepped into the spotlight of danger and macabre. He pushed you inside the car and slammed the door shut, slipping inside the driver's seat.

“If you're told over and over again to stay the fuck away from me, why won't you listen?” You watched with a blurring vision as he slammed both his hands down on the posh steering wheel of the car. Your body flinched at such an aggressive reaction, succumbing to the leather of the seat you were.

You tried to excuse your behavior. “Uncle, I only wanted to spend time with you—”

“Fuck spending time with me. You're a target now, they'll do anything to get their hands on you.” James was a fucking mess. Perspired forehead and trembling hands, he started the car and began driving. There was only one single thing on his mind, to get you to the airport as fast as he could.

There wasn't even enough time to contact MI6 and call for emergency transportation for you. Le Chiffre had found out and you were not a human anymore — only blackmail material. A threat to both MI6 and James Bond.

The car drive was reckless, tears falling profusely down your cheeks. You couldn't understand what was happening but you were sure that something shady, something past your normal life was going on here. James drove like his life depended on it but then a blast roared through the darkness of the night.

Cutting the silence crisply in between, as the car came to a screeching halt. Its engine roaring out into the void the sky had become. You had no time to register the situation as the car door was slammed open, from both sides, and you two were pulled out. The strange faces moved aside and there emerged a familiar face, the man with the scarred eye.

He scared you.

Just by existing.

Your uncle was knocked over and pushed on his knees by one of the guards while another held you tightly against him. You couldn't give in, not that easily. Turning to the man who held you, you bared your teeth and bit down on his arm. His scream was cut short as he slapped you across the face, sending you straight into the grass by the road.

“She's resilient.” Le Chiffre commented, impressed by your act of rebellion. You were surrounded by guns, by dangerous people but you had the fucking nerve to harm one of his men.

That was attractive.

“Let her go.” Bond gasped out, the side of his head bleeding from the rough handling of Le Chiffre’s men. “Take me, but release her. She's of no use to you.”

Le Chiffre tilted his head. He walked over to where you were, kneeled down on the floor with a gun to your head. You accumulated the spit mixed with blood in your mouth and spat it to the side, glaring up at him through your thick lashes. The man fucking relished in how seemingly daring you were. He was going to enjoy you more than torturing James for his money.

He saw a challenge before him.

Le Chiffre reached for your chin, holding it tightly in his palm. Examining your face for any bruises and other than a busted lip, he found nothing of serious cause. “She's of no use? She's of all the use I need right now.”

Your uncle let out profanities of disagreement at the idea of you getting involved with the disgusting world of these men. He didn't like it — he hated it. He'd kept you seperate from him all these years because you were innocent. Innocent like the people he'd taken up this job to save.

“Fuck you, cunt.” You swore at Le Chiffre, glaring at him. That act of resilience only made you more attractive and he had to claim you.

He released your chin and smirked. “Drug them.”

That was all his guard dogs needed. Punctured with a syringe in your neck, you tried to hold onto your uncle before the void could consume you but you failed.

— ♡ —

You'd regained consciousness, expecting to be chained in some dark basement. But you were in a bedroom, as your hazy vision registered your surroundings. It was a serene room — sleek and modern. Too boring and dull for your taste.

After the cloud of fog dissipated from your brain, you finally scanned your surroundings in depth. You were on a bed, comfortable and soft and the room had a table in the corner then a balcony. You tried to get up but couldn't, feeling weak in the knees and thighs for some reason.

Your forehead was sweaty and your cunt throbbed. All while laying in an air conditioned room. It was quite weird to be feeling this hot and intense when the room was cold and the temperature was low.

You tried to writhe out of the restraints put on your wrist, but it didn't budge. The rope scraping against your skin and bruising it in the process. A soft whimper left you when you squeezed your thighs. Just what the fuck was happening to you? Brain fogging up and sweat oozing out of all your pores, you tried to scream out but couldn't due to a parched throat.

Then the door opened.

You were so occupied with your own messed up situation, you didn't even look up at who had entered the room.

Le Chiffre stared at you, as you squirmed like some worm on the bed. Back arching off once in awhile, lips letting out little huffs and brows furrowed in frustration. He knew what was happening to you, he was the cause of it afterall.

“Feel any indifferent?”

Your head shot up at his voice.

You hated the man already. He'd kidnapped you and your uncle, hurt you both yet — yet he appeared so fucking attractive. There was something terribly wrong with you because all your mind thought about inching closer to the man and getting fucked by him.

He was like an oasis and you were a thirsty woman.

“W-What did you do to me?” You managed to stutter out, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to satiate the hunger of your moist cunt.

You hated how needy you were acting, especially for such an evil man. This was completely against your own morals yet you couldn't help but crave his cock right inside you, to calm down the throbbing of your soaked cunt.

He smiled. “Just a little drug, to make you more pliant.”

Pliant? For what?

You blinked a little. Cheeks flushed and strands sticking fo your forehead. “You fucking asshole. Let me go now.”

Le Chiffre grinned and nodded his head, leaving you completely shocked. He came closer to you, reaching over to untie the knots on your wrist and releasing you. His actions left you puzzled, your blurred gaze looking at him.

“Go.” He said. “Try stepping out this door and you'll get yourself fucked by most of my men here.”

You flinched at his words, not even having enough energy to step out the bed. Le Chiffre ran his finger over your arm, sliding it up and you leaned more into his touch. Desperately trying to get more, to settle the ache in your body.

Le Chiffre chuckled, seeing how desperate you were.

“P-Please. I don't feel good.” You had tears streaming down your face as you reached for his chest, running your fingers all over the expanse of it. You knew deep in your heart that to ache for him like this was wrong, to want him like this was horrible but your body wanted to succumb to this need. This crave and desire.

To you, Le Chiffre appeared ten times more alluring than he did before.

He stood before you, one hand in his pocket as he stared at you. “Yeah? Do you feel hot, mon chéri?”

You nodded your head, getting on your knees on the bed as your hands yearned to touch more of him. Flying up to his nape, freshly done nails grazing over the skin hidden beneath his collar. You stared at him, unbridled need controlling each and every molecule and tissue in your body.

“Want me to fuck you, hm? Tell me, do you want to cum on the cock of the man who has your uncle captive?” You stalled for a moment, not wanting to answer that. Guilt and wanton warring inside you. Your own uncle was somewhere, probably getting tortured and here you were with a saturated cunt aching to be fucked.

By the same man who'd taken you and your uncle captive.

You didn't want to answer.

Fingernails digging into his skin out of complete hatred, your gaze darkened and Le Chiffre only scoffed. You were touching him but also hurting him — a sweet mix which he found delightful. He grabbed both your hands, pinning your wrists down leaving you in need.

“Tell me.”

You shook your head.

He snickered. “Then suffer.”

Before he could sit up and leave, you grabbed him by his face and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was haste and messy, your lips hungrily colliding with his, tongue trying to pry open his mouth. Le Chiffre’s hand went up to your hair as he grabbed it — bunching it in his fist and tugging on the locks.

He tried to push you off him but the way you were kissing him like a starved, mad woman, it made his wall crumble apart.

You whimpered, pushing your body up against his. Trying to feel him, to rub your body all over his. Le Chiffre knew the drug had taken its affect on you but he didn't know you'd be this desperate. Hungrily sucking on his tongue and slurping up his saliva, like you needed him.

He could feel his spit mixed with yours smearing all over his mouth.

When he pulled away, he found you looking back at him with the most vulnerable and submissive look ever. Pants tightening at the mere sight of you looking this messed up, Le Chiffre felt his restraint slip away as he tossed you on the bed.

“Please,” you moaned, parting your legs like some common whore. “use me—ruin me, please.”

Le Chiffre had enough. He didn't waste time, ripping the dress to shreds and tossing its littered pieces everywhere. Cold hands groping you everywhere, acting like numbing gel to your fiery skin. He rid you of your panties too, prying your thighs open and exposing your sweet cunt to him.

The man brought his head down to your thighs, nuzzling it between them. His hands gripping each thigh tightly, fingers dipping into the flesh. “Look at your little hole clenching around nothing but air. How fucking embarrassing and disgusting.”

You responded with a whine, both hands dropping down to grab onto his neatly done hair.

He blowed air on your clit, watching it twitch and he chuckled. You were fucking pathetic and small and weak. All at his mercy and right now he could do whatever he wished to do with you. Humiliate you, hurt you, ruin you, fuck you. Just a doll for him to play with.

In a moment of regained control of your morals, you started to punch at his shoulders to move him away from you. Torn between the desperate chase for pleasure and the despair that awaited you at the end of this debauchery.

Le Chiffre didn't like how you still fought off the effects of the drug.

Releasing your thigh, he grasped both your wrists in a tight hold and pressed them over your stomach. “Enough. Don't fight it unless you want me to call in every guard outside so they can see you like this.”

Your act of defiance fell apart.

He ran his wet tongue over the slit of your cunt and your breath hitched, body twitching and back rising from the mattress. Striking you across your thigh, he pushed it up and bent your knee. Exposing more of your cunt to him. “Stay still.”

“C-Can’t. Feels too good.” You whimpered out, wrists struggling in his hold. You wished to be free, to kick and throw your hands everywhere. A pathetic mess of hopelessness and sin you were, sprawled across the bed for him to unfurl.

He chuckled against your cunt, before closing his lips around your clit. He sucked on it with vigor as you felt his sharp teeth nearly prickle the sensitive bud. Due to the drug, your body's sensitivity and senses had heightened, twitching in his hold everytime he touched you in the slightest.

You stared at him and in return he did the same, his scarred eye only fueling the ache in your abdomen. He was truly a beautiful man, the most attractive man you'd ever seen but his deeds were as ugly as his insides. There he laid before your very legs, using his skilled tongue to pull you into a deeper abyss.

Le Chiffre unwrapped his lips around your clit as his tongue made its way past your wet folds, plunging inside your hole. Tears rolled down your face as you attempted to free yourself from the restraint his hand was around your wrists.

“Wanna hold your hair, please. Just wanna hold it.” You were a sputtering mess and the man found you quite innocent in that very moment but he knew you were also a brat who'd given him a hard time. “You want to hold my hair, hm? You pathetic little whore. Want to hold my hair as I eat your little cunt while my men torture your uncle downstairs?”

Intaking a sharp breath, you didn't know what to do. As if his actions weren't already disgraceful, his words made you feel sick too. You whimpered for him, a simple plea to be freed and Le Chiffre grinned, slowly retracting his hands. The second he did, your fingers found themselves entangled between his dark silky locks. His intimidating eyes swallowing you whole as he continued his ministrations.

You could feel yourself near.

Stomach flipping and twisting into crazy knots, thighs suffering from convulsions. He only admired the view before him — a beauty with flushed, rosette cheeks and perspired forehead staring back at him. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow, a night that was his last. His saliva with a mix of your arousal falling down his chin.

“You taste so good, doll. Fucking delicious against my tongue.” He grunted, fucking you with his rigid tongue.

And you soon reached your own end, back arching off the bed and a high pitched scream tearing through your chest. Your throat parched and dry from all the sounds you'd made. Le Chiffre watched you as you became more of a mess underneath him, your arousal coating his tongue.

He licked you up like a dog, panting and melting in the taste your little body had to offer. Hands holding you down against the bed, he took in the sight of your eyes meeting the back of your skull and your body falling apart.

And when you'd came down from your blissful high, you found the ache in your pussy to only grow more intense. In need of something, something that only Le Chiffre could offer you.

In a few seconds, the man had hastily stripped himself naked. When your blitzed gaze fell lower and you grasped the sheer size of his cock — it dismayed you. In an attempt to run from him, you tried to slid off the soft mattress but Le Chiffre was quick to grasp your legs, tugging you closer to him. Until he was settled between your thighs, both hands holding your knees apart.

“Getting kidnapped and the idea of torture doesn't scare you but the size of my cock does? How fucking ironic.” Le Chiffre chuckled, firmly locking you in place.

He brought his hand upto your mouth. “Spit.”

You shook your head, stubborn. Torn between the ache of your cunt and the guilt about your uncle, you fought an inner battle inside you. Your body craved him but your mind reminded you just who he was, what he'd done to you and your uncle.

Just how evil he was.

He let out a groan of frustration, his fingers entangling in your dark locks as he gripped on the roots. “Fucking spit.”

You whimpered at the harsh tug and gathered saliva in your mouth, before spitting a glob out on his open palm. Le Chiffre hummed in satisfaction and ran the wet palm over his cock, lubricating it. You stared at him with hooded eyes as rubbed his fat cockhead against your clit — before entering you in one, harsh thrust.

A loud high pitched moan tore through you, the painful stretch surging your body forward.

He told hold of one thigh and hiked it up, bending your knee to angle his cock deeper inside you. The position gave him access to more depth of your gummy tight walls and the man growled, loving the feeling how you'd clamped down on him.

Walls clinging to him in desperate. Cunt trying to suck his cock, to consume him whole. Tears emerged on your waterline, tear ducts nearly expoding as Le Chiffre allowed you to grow used to his size. His delicious girth stretched you out like no other as your hips writhed underneath him.

He pushed until he had completely pressed his pelvis against yours. Becoming one with you.

“One might think you're a virgin from how fucking tight you are.” He grunted, staring down at you. Once neatly done hair now a mess, few strands slipping through the grasp of gel and hovering over his wet sweaty forehead.

Le Chiffre started to snap his hips against yours, holding you down as he took you against your will. Your perpetual cries and struggles loud and reverberating through the corners of the luxurious room. You tried to hit him — hands messily attempting to deliver a few smacks to his bare chest.

So he grabbed both your wrists and forcefully slammed them down, restraining you against the mattress. His one perfect eye holding all the anger and frustration that he soon was going to take out on you.

“Even the drug can't take the bratty behavior out of you.” Le Chiffre groaned, sliding in and out if you. “Your little pussy is soaked and throbbing for me but you still want to show off your morals.”

You sniffled at his words and he watched as a lone tear slid down. You looked so sinful and the man was not going to release you anytime sooner. He had big plans for you, especially now that he'd figured you were related to his nemesis.

Poor girl caught up in their evil games.

“I-I hate you.” You said, through broken moans and ragged breaths. Le Chiffre genuinely found it amusing when you'd expressed your hatred for him. It only added fuel to his desire, his thrusts going more vigorous as he stepped his foot up on the bed.

Both his hands flew to your throat — circling around to cut off your air supply. Your fists banged over his chest, at his arms and wrists but you were extremely pathetic against the man. Grip tightening with each second, he admired the way your face slowly turned almost a pale hue of blue. Back arching off the bed and body struggling.

Then he released you.

Just when your lungs had swelled up in dire need of oxygen, veins going numb.

“Wish I could kill you.” Le Chiffre moaned, hands still decorating your throat in bruises as the brute force of his strokes hit your sensitive spot. Feeling his thick cockhead repeatedly slam into your gspot and everytime he did, your body jerked. “But you're so much more useful like this. Killing you would be a waste of a good cunt.”

You loathed the way he spoke to you like you were some whore.

Face drenched in sweat and tears, your stomach heated up with a feeling that you deeply tried to suppress. Le Chiffre felt you grip his cock like a vice, realizing that you were hear. As was he.

His animalistic like thrusts continued delivering into you, and you sobbed whenever a vein of his cock throbbed inside you. It was all too vivid and raw. You could feel things that you were sure you wouldn't under a normal setting. The drug he'd used had heightened your senses and you hated just how good Le Chiffre was making you feel.

His hand unwrapped your throat, slipping between your legs to run over your swollen little bud. Your thighs twitched as he pounded into you, all while forcefully pulling an orgasm out of you.

Soon you came all over him — body twitching and trembling. He'd fucked your orgasm out of you, watching as you made a mess everywhere. Creaming all over his cock and the sight made him spill too, coating your walls with his thick seed. Your eyes rolled back and your lips shuddered, falling agape.

“Yeah there it is. Little cunt is so fucking tight, so very fucking tight.” He rode out his own release, with endless grunts and growls of pleasure. It only acted as an addition to your need for him.

He looked so attractive.

While he sinned inside you.

Le Chiffre grunted, fucking his cum back into you and by this point you were too far gone into oblivion. You allowed it to happen, frail body a victim of dehydration and the dehumanizing act done by Le Chiffre was too overwhelming so you didn't register it. Blocked it away and went numb.

He stared down at you, hand slowly reaching for your face. You flinched, expecting something rough or a hit even but instead came a gentle stroke from his thumb over your soaked cheek. “You're absolutely gorgeous, especially like this.” He licked the tear he collected on his thumb, before pulling out of you and dropping besides you.

Your breathing was torn, gradually becoming even with time. You turned away from him, not caring about anything anymore. You'd missed your uncle, and such a simple relationship lead to this. If you'd known, you would've always steered clear of James Bond and the people around him.

In a way, you deemed it to be your fault too.

“You didn't know, did you?”

Le Chiffre’s deep voice broke the silence, as a strong arm was tossed over you from behind.

You knew what he was referring to. Of course you didn't know your uncle was involved in some shady shit like this. If they had told you, if your mother had just been clear about all this, none of the monstrosities you faced tonight would've happened.

“Innocents often lose their lives amidst wars caused by others.” If you didn't know how cruel the man was, you would've assumed for a split second that these were words of reassurance but these were mere taunts — to remind you that he'd captured you.

You were leverage now.

For him.

[eywahasheardyou]

One Last Promise

Pairings: Sully Family x Reader, Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k words

They say when you have finished your purpose in the living world, Eywa will welcome you back to where you once came. From her loving embrace to that of a mother, awaiting for her child to come back to her once their day was over and the dusk sets.

Your father, the Toruk Makto, the leader of your clan, had always told you that death takes everyone without even a warning. May it be a toddling child or a withering old man. Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, he would always say. And when he repeats that phrase, he had a wistful look in his eyes, lips pressed firmly against each other as he clutched the metal pendant that you were once told belonged to his brother.

You knew death would come for you sooner or later. The looming threat of it would often cross your mind once in a while but you knew it was always in your father’s. A hardened soldier like him had crossed death’s path, and death would greet him. Through the empty eyes of his fallen comrades. It’ll come knocking, and you’d have no choice but to answer. Your father just wanted to shield you from that. From the horrors of war. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway as you had watched him become hardened by countless battles, your older brothers being the brunt of his fears of losing the one thing he had worked so hard to get. A family. One that was his to protect.

You gazed at your father’s still form, his wrinkled face scrunched up as tears rolled down his cheeks, desperately trying to cover the wound that tainted your blue skin crimson. His hands were shaky, you could feel it against your skin as he pressed his hands on your chest, desperately putting pressure on the wound that just didn't seem to run out of blood.

A cry escaped you and it took all of Jake’s strength to not pull away. This was saving you. He needed to do this. He needed to keep you alive.

“Daddy..?” You mustered up the strength to mumble, praying to Eywa to give you a few more moments surrounded by the warmth of your family. A warmth you knew deep down, you would never feel again.. not in this life anyway.

“I’m right here, baby girl. I’m right here..” Your lips weakly quirked up into a grin at the familiar pet name that you had once complained was childish.

Your ears twitched like they always did when your father called you that, it was almost always followed up with a scowl and a whine. But now that you are at death’s door steps, you can only smile.

You lifted your hand up to gently cup your father’s cheek, trying to remember the way his skin felt against your palm. You often described it as ‘prickly like a cactus’, a plant from earth your father described to you once. “Daddy.. I.. When ‘m gone.. y-you.. you go easy on the boys, okay? ‘S not their fault..” You could feel the iron on your tongue and you coughed, trying to breathe despite your lungs vehemently complaining. “Don’t you blame ‘em, daddy.. ‘m gonna be angry if you do..”

“Hey, hey look at me, look at daddy, babygirl.. you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’ll live, yeah? You’ll live.. we’re gonna go home after this. Back to Mo’at, okay? Back to the forest.” His large hand cupped your face, moving some stray hair strands.

Jake shook his head as he held you close, your life flashing in his eyes. His fondest memory of watching you claim your own ikran, one that closely resembled the one that he used to have and he firmly believed that your ikran was of Toruk’s own clutch. He flew with you that day, side by side as you soared through the heavens with cries of victory.

You had so much ahead of you. You were going to grow right in front of his very eyes, have so many adventures to go through, and when you’re old enough.. he could see being by your side as you’d introduce your other half. And he would play the part of the tough dad that wouldn’t give his daughter away but he knew deep down he’d be happy that you were happy.

And the promises of your future was slipping through his fingers.

As your skin grew cold and clammy, Jake realized that he would never see that. He would never see you live the life that you deserved. One that knew only of peace. And for once, the great Toruk Makto wept as he pulled you closer, cradling you in his arms as if it was the day Eywa blessed him and Neytiri with you all over again.

“Please, please..” He had begged, lifting his head up to look at the stars before his eyes flickered back to you. Eywa, oh eywa, please not his daughter. Not his little girl.

“Daddy.. p-promise me, please.. ‘s not their fault, daddy..” A gargled choke from your own blood made him hold you tighter, shaking his head as he heard your whimpers of pain. You mustered up your strength to say these words, knowing well that when you return to Eywa, your passing would devastate your family. You didn’t want your father to blame your big brothers for something they could not control.

“I promise, I promise.” He says quickly as he craned his head to look at you, blinking his eyes to get rid of the tears that blurred his vision. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” He refused to. He was begging, desperately pleading inwardly that Eywa would take him instead of you. “I’m.. I’m gonna pick you up, okay? Stay with me.” He carefully held you securely in his arms, looking over at Lo’ak and Neteyam, whose sullen expressions and once vibrant eyes became dull as tears rolled down their cheeks. Never did they think they would be in this situation, their hands stained with their baby sister’s blood.

“C’mon, Lo’ak.. N-Neteyam.. Help me out. We’re gonna take your sister back to the village...” He tried not to let his voice shake. He had to be strong. “Neteyam! Lo’ak! Please.. Help me..” He tried again, voice laced in desperation when the two had yet to move, their eyes never leaving your form.

Your gaze never left your father’s face, trying to memorize every inch of the man who had loved and took care of you. Not Toruk Makto. Not Jake Sully of Earth. But your father.

A soft smile graced your lips and suddenly all the pain left you as quick as it had come. Then there was peace.

It was Lo’ak who noticed your sudden silence and he was quick to grasp onto your hand. “[Name]..?” His brows furrowed at the coldness of your palm and he felt his throat go dry and the tears poured down his cheeks as he pressed his cheek against your palm, shaking his head as Neteyam joined him, sobbing as he held his brother close.

“[Y/N]… No, no, no. [Y/N]!” Neytiri shook you in your father’s arms, shaking her head as if in disbelief. A gut wrenching cry escaped your mother’s throat as her shaky hands roamed over your face, those eyes that used to look at her with such fondness and admiration had lost all it’s life.

Jake could feel the warmth of your body retreating, your limbs limp and your body pale. He tilted his head to the sky, asking the Great Mother why she would take his little girl. Why you? It should’ve been him. He dug his sharp fangs on his lip, biting back the cry of anguish that threatened to claw its way out of his throat, though it only increased the pressure in his chest and with one last look at your face, your dull eyes gazing at the sky, he let out a desperate cry. He cradled you to his chest, face pressed against your hair as he sobbed.

When eclipse broke, and the battle for Pandora had ended for now, your family sat on one of the rocky shores of Three Brothers’ Rock, holding one another close in this time of grief.

They mourned for the life you would’ve lived, mourned for what could’ve been, what would’ve been, and what should’ve been. They mourned you.

Author’s Notes: Inspired by @missroro ’s prompt. I hope I did it justice. I haven’t written in a year and my English is not very good, please excuse me for any grammar mistakes. Let me know what you think of this lil one shot! Kiveyame.

[hannahbarberra162]

Squace of Hearts, Pt. 2

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Part one

I'm not completely satisfied with this. I don't know that one shots are for me - I kept adding detail for later chapters but there aren't going to be any more...unless?

You arrived at the ship bright and early, carrying two large cups of coffee bearing the Marine emblem on their sides. You portaled to the deck and found Ace surveying the damage. You were tired from staying up late with Ace the night before but you were in good spirits at least. 

“G’morning, sunshine.” You handed him his cup and drank deeply from your own.

“Thank god, this is just what I needed.” Ace eagerly accepted his coffee and chugged it.

“Wow, never seen someone drink coffee that fast, doesn’t that burn your - oh. You probably can’t get burned, huh?”

“Yeah, but I can’t get into Marine bases to grab fresh cups of coffee either, so things are pretty fair between us. How’d you know where to go in the base to get this, anyway? Weren’t you worried about being arrested?”

“Nah, it’s easy to predict where the guards will be. Besides, they only build like five or six different styles of bases unless the geography of the island prohibits it. So once you know the variations, they’re easy to navigate and not get caught.” Ace’s eyes went wide.

“Could you draw them for us? The different base styles? That would be helpful information for us to know, in case anyone gets imprisoned.” You hummed. Marine base information was something you kept to yourself in case you needed to either save your own hide or sell it if you needed cash and couldn’t use your power for whatever reason. 

“Maybe, but let’s fix the deck first. We’ll have bigger problems if Marco doesn’t see us working.” 

“You’re right, here, take this.” Ace had a large tome in his hand. “Marco gave this to me, he says that directions on how to fix scorched wood are listed under “wood repair.” You didn’t take the book, raising your cup of coffee.

“You do it! I’m still drinking my coffee, you chugged yours. I’m down a hand.” Ace shrugged and looked up the steps in the book. It would take time and effort but it could be done with sandpaper. You hadn’t worked hard in…a few years. You hadn’t missed it. Ace went below deck to find the needed supplies while you chilled on the deck. 

Other crew members were milling about, doing their chores. One of the Commanders from the previous night, Thatch, came up to you while you were waiting.

“So, you’re the reason for the deck looking like this?” he said with a grin.

“Not entirely. I provided the method, Ace provided the means.” You smiled back, hoping he wasn’t too mad about the ship. After all, they did have to sail on it. 

“I was gonna ask you about that - I’m so curious about your portals. For example, can you make one right now to the kitchen on the ship? Or could you make a never ending loop? There’s so many possibilities.” You were used to these kinds of questions, a lot of people found it interesting. You didn’t always answer them, but you didn’t see how it would hurt.

“For the never ending loop, yes. I’ve gotten stuck before and I’ve put people in them. The problem is that I can only make one set of portals at a time. So if I’m fighting and I put someone in the loop, I can’t use them until I remove at least one of the portals.” Being in the loop was so annoying, it had taken you 5 minutes to get yourself out of it. 

“So you do fight with them. I knew you weren’t just a mover. So, what are you really? Mercenary? Pirate? Thief?” He wasn’t quite suspicious but you’d walked right into that one. You held your free hand up defensively.

“No, no, really. I was on a few crews a long time ago, but I haven’t been a pirate in years. Sometimes I get into a tough spot and need to fight, but it doesn’t happen often. I really do move stuff for money. It’s easy money and I don’t have to work hard, which are my two favorite things. ” And yes, you stole, but not as a career. Thatch narrowed his eyes but still wore a smile. 

“Alright, I believe you for now. If you ever want to spar -” Ace stomped up to the deck with his gigantic-ass boots. 

“Thatch, leave her alone, she doesn’t want to train with you,” Ace said while reading the instructions. You took the sandpaper from under his arm. Ace looked serious about this work thing. He flipped back and forth between two pages. “Ok, we have the sandpaper but we’re going to need to go to the island at some point to get some oil for the wood. We don’t have that on board.” You nodded.

“Yes, sir!” You gave Ace a jaunty salute. He grinned at you and put the book down, taking some of the sandpaper. 

“Let’s get to it.”

~~~

An hour later and your forearms and shoulders were aching. Turned out you’d scorched more of the deck than you’d thought. You flopped down on the deck, throwing your sandpaper dramatically to the side. 

“That’s it, I think we’re finally done with the sanding.” You laid down flat on your back, hands behind your head. 

“But we have so much more work to do,” Ace whined. He laid down on the deck next to you. “We have to get mineral oil and put a buncha of coats on the wood, it’s gonna be a pain.”

“Surely we can take a short break? Even a stern taskmaster like yourself would permit a poor, weak woman like myself to have a break?” You turned to face him, pouting with your lip out. Ace snorted.

“You’ve never been weak. I had the broken nose to prove it. And the broken arm.”

“That one I won’t take credit for, that was all on your own. I didn’t tell you to go to that waterfall looking for flowers. And I certainly didn’t tell you to fall down it.” Ace had been a sweet little kid, bringing you presents from the woods and island. He’d show up, frowning, bruised and covered in bandages, and hand you a beautiful rock or a fistfull of flowers he’d found on his hunts with his brother. It had been the nicest thing anyone gave you for your entire childhood.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. You dove in after me and I got to see your nipples through your shirt,” Ace smiled. “I remember them well, it’s a fond childhood memory.” You laughed, you remembered him staring at your boobs like they were the One Piece. You were feeling the mood and interested in feeling him. It was still the morning, but you didn’t think fun should be limited to the night. 

“Doesn’t have to be a memory, cowboy. But we might want to find a better place, we’re on the deck surrounded by your crew.” You sat up, and pulled him to sit too. “Whaddya say we go find some mineral oil?” You raised a brow, opening a portal to the island. Ace grinned. 

~~~

You portaled to the main street of the island, which is what you could see from the boat. You grabbed Ace’s warm, calloused hand in your own smaller one and pulled him straight into a secondary portal, landing in your hotel room. It was easier to portal to places you’d already been - you just had to be within a reasonable range, you didn’t necessarily have to see where you were going. Ace, still getting used to going through portals, was a little disoriented as he landed with you in the hotel room. He made contact with the bed, almost falling into a seated position. You wasted no time, straddling his lap, facing him. He put his arms around your hips, hugging you to him. You’d barely even started touching but you were feeling flushed. You couldn’t help yourself - you smiled mischievously at him. This was almost nostalgic, you and him hiding away to kiss before being needed somewhere. He smiled back at you as you pushed his hair away from his face. 

“Now, let’s see if you remember what I taught you,” you said, bringing your face close to his. You didn’t need to close the distance, Ace met you halfway, pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes slid closed as you cupped his face in your hands, moving them to the back of his head and kissed him back. You opened your mouth, nipping his lip, and he opened his own. You dipped your tongue in his mouth, feeling his own rolling against yours. You kissed like that for a few minutes, just savoring the feel of Ace back in your arms. You felt his cock hardening in his shorts and you rocked on it, making him groan. You weren’t surprised Ace was a moaner, but it was welcome. You removed your hands from his face and pushed him down with a gentle tap to the shoulder. You laid down next to him, facing him. He slotted a leg through your own as he continued to kiss you - your neck, your jaw, your earlobe. Ace was peppering kisses along any available skin he could find. You sighed in pleasure.

“It seems you’ve learned a few things along the way,” you said. Your breath hitched as he bit where your neck met your shoulder, barely missing the necklace you were wearing. 

“Had a good teacher,” he rasped. He rolled you onto your back as his nimble fingers were unbuttoning your shirt, opening you up for his view. When you were bared to him, he took in the sight of you before he frowned in concentration as he fingered a small rock on a necklace you were wearing. It was a small but beautiful golden rock, glinting in the light. It clearly had no value other than sentimental.

“First time someone frowned when they saw me half naked,” you joked. His eyes flicked to yours.

“I gave you this rock,” he said, still fiddling with the chain around your neck. This time you weren’t blushing from the physical contact. You looked off to the side, turning your head away from him.

“Yeah well. I kept it.” You were embarrassed, which wasn’t something that happened to you often. You knew Ace had gone on to bigger and better things in life, and you didn’t want to seem like you were clinging to him or that you needed him. You’d just always liked it and had made it into a necklace pendant long ago. It was the only thing you’d kept from your childhood and you wore it every day. You didn’t like talking about your feelings and you didn’t want to start now. Ace took two of his fingers and turned you to face him once more. 

“I missed you too,” he whispered and kissed you again. This time it wasn’t leisurely and sweet like you’d been doing before. Ace kissed you like you were his last breath of air, frantically kissing you deeply while tearing off his clothes. You were rapidly taking your own off as you kissed him back just as needy. You felt like you were being consumed by him, the air between you and Ace was electrified. Soon there were no barriers between you, just the two of you naked and kissing on the hotel bed. Your hands were wound in his hair and his were beneath your ass, grinding himself on you while his tongue licked inside your ear.

As soon as your clothes were all off, Ace was a man possessed. He stopped kissing your mouth for a moment and looked down at your breasts. “Just as perfect as I remember,” he said, “been waitin’ years for this.” He dipped his head down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, hard. Your lower back arched off the bed as you keened, trying to bring your nipples even closer to his mouth. He popped one out before quickly licking the other, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. He gently bit it between his front teeth, causing you to moan. He sucked it and laved it with his tongue while massaging your other breast in his large hand. “I don’t think you understand what a chokehold these had on my teenage years,” Ace told you. 

“I’m glad I was able to help you out,” you choked out, barely able to string a sentence together. You knew you were wet, you could feel it between your legs. Ace was still sucking on and biting your nipples, pushing your breasts together so he could access both easily.

“I’ve thought a lot about your tits over the years. There’s a lot I want to try,” he purred at you. 

“Just with my tits?” you asked. You hoped not.

“No, I’ve had some other questions I want answered too. I wanna know what you taste like.” Ace started kissing the underside of your breasts, slowly working his way down your stomach. You giggled as he kissed a ticklish spot. Ace looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting, the invincible woman has a weak spot.” 

“A lot of weak spots for you.” You flushed even as you said the cheesy line. You didn’t know why it came out, Ace made you feel weird things. Ace laughed lightly and continued his journey down your eager body. He spread your legs and planted himself between them. He put his hands under the backs of your thighs and spread you even wider. 

“Fuck, you’re even prettier than I imagined,” he muttered, “so wet for me, so good for me.” You didn’t have time to respond before he dove tongue first into your pussy. He stroked the flat of his tongue up and down your slit, like he was trying to memorize it with his tongue. Pushing your thighs even farther apart, he licked in between your labia, gathering the slick you’d already made. He moaned into you, like you were the finest meal he’d ever had. He touched your clit with the tip of his tongue for the briefest moment before sliding it back down to your hole, making you growl. He nipped your inner thigh. “Hush, you’ll get it,” he answered. He took his time, licking you like a bowl of cream from bottom to top. You were wriggling, trying to get him back to your clit, but his strong arms kept you from moving too much. You weren’t used to Ace taking the reins but you definitely weren’t complaining. 

He had just put his tongue back on your clit to your complete satisfaction when you heard the jingle of keys in the door. You’d deadbolted it as a precaution when you took the room, but that wouldn’t last for long. Ace picked up his head from between your legs, your juice dripping down his face.

“Uh, we should go now. Grab everything,” you whispered. Total buzzkill. But, being arrested for using a hotel room without paying would also be a buzzkill. Ace jumped up, throwing on his clothes. You did the same, throwing on your clothes, grabbing your pack, and making a portal. The two of you had just made it through when the door to the room opened. But by then, you were on Ace’s ship, breathing heavily. You threw down your pack and sat down. You readjusted your clothes and caught your breath.

“Forgot housekeeping comes through sometimes,” you said to Ace. He looked over at you grinning and licking his lips. Your face heated as you realized he hadn’t cleaned up.

“Take it you weren’t paying for the room,” Ace said dryly.

“Not like they were using it,” you replied. “I don’t want to hear from a pirate about the morality of borrowing a hotel room.” 

“Where were the two of you yoi? It’s been an hour and a half,” an annoyed Marco towered over your sitting form. Ace at least looked embarrassed, maybe Marco would forgive him. 

“Uh, getting mineral oil?” you replied. “Which we, uh, forgot back on the island,” you finished  sheepishly.  Marco gave you and Ace a knowing look. 

“Quit it yoi. Have fun on your own time. Mineral oil is in the secondary supply room, next to the engine oil.” Marco walked away muttering something about crushes and time wasted. 

~~~

Ace retrieved the mineral oil while you repacked your bag. You just wanted to make sure that you had everything with you and didn’t forget anything in the room. As you finished, he returned with the book from earlier under his arm as well as the oil and some dry cleaning cloths. 

“Hey, grab the book before I drop it.” You took the book from under his arm as he put down the other things. “Ok, the instructions are on page 294. How do we apply the oil? I think it said multiple thin layers but I might be misremembering.” You fiddled with the pages and opened it to 294. Once on the page you looked down at it, there were a lot of different instructions on the page. You fiddled with the stone on your necklace. “Well, what’s it say?” Ace peered over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

“Umm… let me see…” Ace looked at you. He gave you a strange look as you got more flustered. “Here, you take it, I can’t find the right directions.” You shrugged and handed him the book nonchalantly. He took the book and put it on the deck, seemingly forgetting about the task at hand. He reached out and gently squeezed your upper arm, guiding you to the railing of the ship.

“Dreamy, can you - can you read?” Ace asked quietly, looking at your face as you registered his words. 

“What do you mean can I read? Of course I can read, I just didn’t see -” you started off indignantly, trailing off when you looked at Ace’s concerned face. 

“The directions were at the top of the page. If I give you the book, can you read to me what it says?” Ace was still speaking to you like you’d been hurt and he was trying not to startle you.

“I don’t - that’s not - you don’t -” you sputtered. You were red in the face, and yanked your arm away from Ace’s grasp. But he wasn’t letting go of the topic and he wasn’t letting you escape from him either.

“It’s OK if you can’t, we can teach you.” You bristled at Ace’s calm and non-judgemental words. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything . I’ve been fine all these years, and I’m fine now.” Ace shrugged, still pinning you with a look. 

“Read me the directions and I’ll drop it.” You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You weren’t sad, you were angry. He was prodding, in public, at your deepest source of shame. 

“Fuck off, Ace.” 

“It’s ok, it’s not a big deal. Everyone has to learn -” 

“And who was going to teach me, hm? My dad who abandoned me? My mom who died? Or maybe the townspeople who made my life a living hell?” You were furious, hissing words at Ace. You saw a few of Ace’s crew members looking over at the two of you. You knew you were getting louder and making a scene but you couldn’t stop. 

“I’m not trying to upset -”

“Well, you’re not trying but you succeeded. At least you had some people who cared about you. You had Luffy and Dadan and your grandpa. And your…friend Makino.” You were furious but you stopped yourself from mentioning his brother. He’d told you once, the only time you’d ever seen him cry, about his brother who’d died, who’d taught him to read before you’d come along. You couldn’t break that confidence.

“I cared about you,” Ace said softly. With that, a tear fell down your cheek. “I still do.” He reached for you again, while you shifted backwards, avoiding his touch. You felt ashamed, overwhelmed, and embarrassed. You were also remorseful that you’d lashed out at Ace who had just been trying to help. You wanted to fix things between you but you were always better at running away than mending.

“I’m gonna go.” You picked up your pack, making a portal with one hand. You needed to get away, to break away from this emotional scene. “Bye, Ace.” You walked through the portal, leaving Ace behind. Again. 

~~~

Or so you thought. As you came through the second portal to an alleyway behind the main street of the town, you were tackled to the ground. “You’re not leaving like that,” you heard Ace say from behind you. You didn’t realize he was so fast - no one had ever chased you through your own portals like that before. He had you on the ground, keeping you in place with his weight. He had your arms pinned to the ground, preventing you from making portals. 

“You can’t just - you can’t -” you couldn’t compute what was happening. 

“What I can’t do is watch you walk away. I did it once and I can’t do it again. Not like this.” He touched his forehead to yours. “Please, let me help you. I want - I need to. I need to help you like you helped me. Please.” Ace finished his statement with a kiss, still holding your arms down above your head.

“Ace I -” 

“Come with me for a little bit. Not forever. Just until the next island. It’s not a commitment, it’s just for now.” He ghosted his lips over yours, looking for you. You didn’t know what to say. You could leave this island, it didn’t really matter when or where you went. Going with Ace was appealing, but you’d had bad experiences with other crews. But maybe this time would be different, you’d be with Ace. 

“Just until the next island?” you asked cautiously. 

“Or you can break my nose again.” 

“I’d break more than that this time,” you said with a small smile. 

“Yeah, maybe my heart,” Ace replied with a cheeky grin. You rolled your eyes with a wider smile before it dropped suddenly off your face. 

“Ace, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I - I - you’re right.” You couldn’t say the words that you were illiterate, it was too painful. Ace gave you a kind smile.

“You don’t need to apologize. Just say you’ll come with me, don’t run away.” Ace’s eyes bored into your own, not giving you anywhere to hide. 

“Alright, alright. Until the next island.” You picked your head off the ground, pushing your lips against his. “Besides, I have a lot more to teach you,” you said with a grin, "you haven't even tried portal sex yet." Ace's eyes widened. It was going to be a fun journey.  

[rafaelaaron]

𝗣𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲 | 𝗔𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝗛𝗼𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗲𝗿

Summary: You comfort Aaron after a tough case

cw: fbi!reader, typical criminal minds violence, mentions of Haley, drinking

Word count: 1.25k

A/N: English is not my first language, sorry for any grammatical mistakes

It's gonna be okay

Everyone needs a bad day

Remember you told me

You're not alone, just pick up the phone

And call me whenever you're feeling lonely

Remember you told me

You're not alone, just pick up the phone

- pick up the phone by Henry Moodie

*

The Counter-terrorism Unit shared the same floor with the BAU, making it easier to keep in touch and check each other's departure and return.

Not that it mattered much.

Except Agent Hotchner and Agent Y/L/N.

The two units were not exactly close nor held a joint investigation frequently. Still, Hotch and you shared a fair amount of time since the first joint investigation which was against numerous bombs installed near tourist attractions in DC.

You had occasional coffee breaks in the hallway sometimes and worked late in Hotch's office together to avoid working alone, both being the infamous workaholics in each other's unit.

“Hey.”

You saw the BAU agents getting out of the elevator, all of them exhausted. Hotch gave you a short nod before disappearing into the bullpen, which was odd for him because he always talked to you, even briefly. Although you were not a profiler, you could read his stress signs only because you spent enough time with him to know that.

“Bad case?”

“Yes, especially to Hotch. We saved a boy, but not his mother. Guess it reminded him of Foyet.”

“That’s awful.”

“Someone needs to talk to him.”

JJ shrugged and waved her hand, walking away. You stood there, biting your lips in concern. Hotch’s look made you worry about him all day at your desk while doing paperwork.

Your mind went back to a certain night several months ago, when he held you in his arms as you cried after failing to save a life in your first joint investigation. He had knocked on your door, asking if you were okay before you collapsed in his arms.

"I feel awful, Hotch."

"Please, don't blame yourself. You did everything you could."

His thumb had gently wiped tears away from your cheeks, smiling softly.

"When you feel bad, just call me. I will come right to you, or at least listen to you when I'm far away."

You had nodded and followed his words, calling whenever you needed his soothing voice and words.

You knew that he would need you too. However, you could tell that he would never call you or come to you, being stubborn. So as soon as you handed the files to your unit chief, you went to the BAU.

“Agent Rossi,”

“Agent Y/L/N. As I know, Aaron went home about 30 minutes ago.”

Rossi said with a wink.

“No wonder you're a profiler.”

You rolled your eyes playfully with a smile and went straight to Hotch's place. You called him first but he didn't answer, worrying you even more.

“Pick up the phone, please.”

You whispered almost desperately, dialing once more. He still didn't answer as you parked your car in front of his apartment.

“Hotchner, open the door before I kick it op—”

Your continuous knock was interrupted by him opening the door.

“Y/N,”

“Aaron,”

“What are you doing here?”

Your stomach dropped seeing him. His hair was messy as if he ran his hand multiple times through it. His tie was loosened and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. His shoulder was tense and his eyes were slightly red. You could conclude that he had been drinking scotch, but you have never seen him like this.

“Well, uh, JJ told me it was a bad case and since you are too stubborn to call me, I thought it would be better to visit you myself and I don't know, probably just listen to whatever you say?”

You rambled, suddenly not sure if you could help him feel better. Hotch just stared at you for a while before dragging you into his house by your hand. You sat down next to him on the couch, his hand never letting yours go.

“I wanted to answer your call,”

He began after a moment of silence.

“But I didn't want to be a burden to you.”

“You know you never are.”

He dropped your hand, his shoulder slumped. You opened your arm and he hesitantly moved toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The unsub kills the mother and a child in the house, waits for the father to come home, and forces him to kill himself. We could save the child, but not his mother, and his father came home to witness the unsub being arrested. I— I saw him being devastated, and—”

“That reminded you of yourself. And Haley.”

You finished for him, and he nodded, burying his face deeper and letting stray tears seep into your shirt collar. You gently rubbed his back, waiting for him to calm down.

“I’ve got you, Aaron. It’s alright.”

He pulled away eventually, flashing his rare smile bashfully.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be, Aaron. You always try to comfort me, and I am just returning the favor.”

“Thanks. I feel much better now.”

You suddenly had no idea what to do now. You were still worried about him, but you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable by staying there longer. So you glanced at your wristwatch, realizing it was already past 10.

“It’s late. I gotta go, I guess.”

You rose to your feet and took a few steps toward the front door when he grabbed one of your wrists and pulled you down. His strength had you practically sitting on his lap. Hotch's eyes drifted down briefly to your lips but went back up right after.

“...Aaron?”

“As you said, it's late, and you should stay the night.”

“Aaron, it's fine—”

“It's the least I can do.”

His intense gaze and firm grip around your wrist left no room to argue. You sighed and accepted his suggestion.

“Then I'll use the guest bedroom.”

“No, honey, sleep next to me.”

You blinked your eyes slowly, your brain trying to process that he had just called you 'honey' for the first time, and wanted you to sleep next to him.

“I won't do anything, I promise. I just— I don't think I can sleep alone.”

“Sure.”

You nodded and he led you to the bedroom, handing some of his clothes to you.

You lay on the bed facing him. He was giving you a look you couldn't quite decipher.

“What?”

“Nothing,”

Hotch smiled ever so slightly and you would've missed it had you not known him so well.

“Just, thank you for stopping by.”

“You're welcome, Aaron.”

You returned his smile, but only bigger.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Aaron.”

He watched you sleeping for a while before falling asleep himself, adoring the way you are looking so peaceful.

“Morning,”

Hotch was leaning against the doorframe, each hand holding steamy mugs. His shirt hugged him perfectly, his tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Morning,”

You replied sleepily, and asked,

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

He smiled, genuinely this time. You realized how much you loved to hear his morning voice and see his smile.

“Come on, I made some breakfast.”

“Never knew you could make pancakes.”

“I try.”

"These are amazing, Aaron."

When you finished the pancakes, his 'that' look showed up once again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You need to get changed, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I'll drive you home.”

“I drove here yesterday.”

“You can pick up your car later. It's the least I can do."

You shrugged, secretly liking the idea of Hotch driving you home.

When you arrived at the 6th floor of Quantico with him, he whispered,

“Have a nice day, Y/N.”

“You too, Aaron.”

Hotch watched you walk away towards the other side of the hallway for a long time.

[rw-ascension-au]

Information.

next

Greetings, Invenot. I come bearing important information.

Have you found the Artificer or something?

You have guessed correctly. I do have a question, though. What happened to her to cause this karma affliction?

It'd be better to ask her yourself.

Another question, if you don't mind - could the 'rot' Hunter speaks of return at any point?

Sorry, Saint. I don't know. Missions are usually too short for it to come back, so even if it will affect her again, I have no idea.

I take it this is the longest mission you've given them, and by extension, me included?

Yeah. They wanted to go on a big adventure or something. I enjoy seeing them happy.

Very well then. Take care.

Bye!

----

(continued under the cut, this is rather long)

Hunter, are you comfortable with answering a few questions about the rot?

Uh, yeah, go ahead.

How long did it take for the rot to develop?

Well, I don't have a clear starting point, but not very long. Why?

I am simply... collecting information. How long do missions usually last?

... Saint. Are you implying something?

Until I have enough information, no.

I've already ascended. I won't rot again.

You seemed upset upon being asked by that weird overseer.

If I start rotting, you can just ascend me.

Invenot said that they removed the ability for whatever reason. My only hypothesis is that they want us to increase the Artificer's karma ourselves.

...

---

Go bug someone else with your questions.

Before I can do that, we most likely should find shelter. Where are the others?

Hunting.

We can meet them in the den. They will understand what to do.

You can go. You're, uh... annoying me.

If that is your wish.

---

Rivulet? Gourmand? What brings you here, before the others?

Riv thought it'd be a good idea to try and do that spinny-spear thing Spearmaster does.

I almost succeeded! Plus, I have a cool bandage thing now! I look tough, right?

It is not up to me to define it. Though I would say that you have been through your own hardships and still retain a high level of optimism that only colony slugpups would carry. That is an impressive feat.

...oh. Cool. Is that yes or no?

It depends on your personal definition. Anyway, if you're both here, I would like to ask something.

Go on.

Do any of you have experience interacting with rot?

Oh! I do! I had to get a rarefaction cell from a rotting iterator! Five Pebbles!

Do you believe hunter could re-gain the rot during our mission?

...

...

I was the medic for my colony. I wasn't trained in dealing with rot, though. That's a specialised kind of medic, whereas I was more trained for helping with general stuff.

Would Hunter be able to endure a journey to a colony, whilst rotting?

I don't know. Plus, rot is never cured, really. Mostly just... delayed.

That might be able to buy us enough time to get to the Void Sea.

The rot might not even happen.

That is our hope, yes.

---

[survivor] We're back!

Where is Hunter?

[survivor] She said she wanted some time to reflect on something.

[monk] Artificer, can I get down now?

Ah, yes, Artificer. May I ask what happened to your karma?

I don't know. Probably something to do with the explosion thing. Or the scavengers. I don't really care.

You need to care in order to ascend.

Why would I want to do so?

You have achieved all you have wanted to, correct?

...mostly.

What is your final goal?

Either to kill every last scavenger or to see those two again.

Which 'two' do you speak of?

My... my pups.

That explains a lot regarding the way you seem to have adopted Monk.

[survivor] and me, kind of.

We should start eating.

And what about Hunter?

I was gonna save some for her.

Do you have fruit of some kind?

I do! I carry some blue fruit in my bag.

I accept the fruit with gratitude, Gourmand.

---

It can't come back.

Right?

[zorobraun]

hear me out… enemies to lovers with ghost

you shouldn’t have bitten off more than you can chew. now you’re here, pressing your hand against the deep wound on your stomach. it hurts like hell, you can feel the bullet inside. you try to breath to calm yourself down, but you can’t. you’re holding back your tears as you hear the voice that you least expected to hear from. “y/n, how copy?” that british accent almost tickles your ear. ghost actually sounds preoccupied, you guess he fakes it too well. you two fight too much for him to actually give a shit about what happens to you on missions. you grunt in pain, you think it might be over for you. you’re dying. “i need you to answer me right fucking now, you idiot. where are you?” the sound of his erratic breathing as he runs to try to find you makes you realize he actually wants to save you from death. well, it’s what lieutenants do, right?

“i’m… nearby the house, hiding under a giant tree, bleeding like a motherfucker. come find me or else…” you take a moment to breath painfully, ghost’s concerned eyes wander around the area you described to be at. like hell he’s going to let you die miserably like this. “it’s pretty dark in here. good luck with that, lieutenant.” you try to chuckle to break the ice, but you end up groaning in pain instead. his heart starts panicking for no reason. “i’d find you even with my eyes closed.” he says firmly and you swallow hard. the silence killing you more than that asshole’s perfect shot on your stomach. now you’re the one closing your eyes, the weakness completely owning your body. god, you hate this so much; being weak. at least, you’re still breathing. shallowly, but still. you hear heavy footsteps, but you’re not strong enough to react to that. you’re literally dying.

“c’mon, let’s go.” you hear ghost’s hurried voice as he grabs your arm gently to pick you up in bride style. you frown in pain, your senses coming back to life again. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you.” he reassures you as you nod, your hand still pressing the wound. your vision is still blurry when you look at him. his eyes reciprocates the eye contact for a moment, just to make sure you’re still alive. you notice the fear in his eyes, because his eyes never lie — even if ghost wants them to. “so you do like me.” you mumble, smiling half heartedly. you feel his muscles tense against you. “i like you alive.” he mumbles back, hurrying his steps to get you to the hidden emergency base. “of course i’m alive…” you start, resting your forehead against his arm to hide the pain painted all over your face. “i didn’t want my last words to be ‘lieutenant’.” you chuckle, crying lowly.

ghost smiles half heartedly to himself, shaking his head. you’re tough just like him. he taught you well. “a woman after my own heart.” that’s the last thing you hear before passing out on his strong arms, half alive, half dead. “stay with me or else i’m gonna kill you myself.” his voice brings you back to your senses again, but it sounds so distant, like you’re not even next to him right now. you also hear different voices and medical equipment sounds. you feel a hand holding yours for a dear life, making you curious. it could be anyone, since you’re friends with everybody except for ghost. however, your curiosity fades away when you feel a huge pain in your stomach, like someone just ripped something off of you. it must be the goddamn bullet.

you wake up a few hours later in your own bed. you open your eyes slowly and take a deep breath when you realize you’re at the base. so you’re safe now, good. you feel much better, even though the pain is still there. you look around to see if you’re not dreaming, and when you see ghost — your annoying lieutenant that makes you go crazy in the worst way possible — holding your hand as he takes a nap on a chair next to your bed, you’re certain that this is all a dream. you’re actually dead, because there’s just no way this can be real. you even pinch yourself with your free hand to make sure this is actually happening. this warmth against your hand… it’s the same one you felt a few hours ago in the emergency base. so it was him. life really is unpredictable.

he sighs as if he’s waking up from his nap and your heart starts racing. ghost looks tired, as if he spent the whole night inside your room, waiting for you to wake up and say something, do something, do whatever the hell you want just to show him that you’re alive and well. “good morning.” you tease as he opens his eyes lazily. his mask is slightly up, so you can see his relieved half heartedly smile when he hears your voice. he caresses your hand with his thumb, as a way to say that he’s so very glad that you stayed with him. yes, the team needs you as well. but he needs you more. “hey, um… thank you. for everything. you saved my life.” you smile shyly. he licks his lips nervously, as if he’s not sure of something. it makes you confused, but you understand it all when you feel his soft lips crash against yours. the kiss screams i’m so glad i won’t spend the rest of my life missing you, and your heart starts beating so fast that you think you might die of a heart attack.

“i really like you alive.” he whispers against your lips as he lays his forehead against yours. he opens his eyes to look at yours and you both smile weakly. you really like him as well. alive, preferably.

[madhatterbri]

Lesson | E.M.

Summary: Elijah is forced to pay for his past.

"You really are an easy man to predict, Elijah," the voice of one of his lovers from the past echoed. High heels clicked against the stone floor as she descended down the stairs. The vampire looked up to see her. She hadn't changed much.

He turned to see he was in one of the many tunnels underneath New Orleans. Candles attempted to light up his current prison. "Your family is in danger and you come running in to save the day,"

Minerva was a witch that was quite powerful back in the day. The last time he saw her she was begging him for forgiveness after her betrayal. She reported them to his father Michael.

Now he only wanted to make her suffer. Elijah was kind back then. He allowed her to plead for her life. The Original could hear her heart beat in her chest. How he wished he could rip it out of her chest. Elijah wrestled against the chains that imprisoned him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's going to hurt," she tsked as his skin burned. A grunt of pain ripped from his body. The handcuffs were laced with vervain. She clicked her tongue a few times while walking around him. "That's got to hurt,"

"What do you want?" He demanded. "You deserved whatever Michael did to you,"

"Revenge. You have forgiven that awful brother of yours for far worse than what I did to you," she spoke through gritted teeth. "You left me to die with your horrible father. All he wants is your bastard brother, Klaus! We could have had a life together if you allowed your father to take him,"

"A witch as yourself can't possibly be foolish enough to think you can bring down the Original family," he scoffed. The witch laughed. His eyes turned black at her lack of respect towards him.

"Not the whole family but you. I thought about how to exact my revenge ever since I stepped foot in New Orleans. I watched as you continuously fought for your family. I thought all was lost until," she stopped and smiled. Minerva looked at him with pure evil in her eyes.

"Until?" Elijah asked boredly.

"Until I saw you and the pretty little red head walking around New Orleans at night. Your newest victim no doubt," Minerva answered. Elijah's demeanor changed. Long gone was the tough exterior. His face crumpled in panic. His teeth were clenched.

"Leave her out of this," he demanded. He wrestled against the chains once more. Be damned the vervain laced handcuffs. Elijah had to protect you at all costs. You didn't deserve to get caught up in this.

Minerva giggled and looked at her watch. "Actually, she should be coming in any moment. A shame she is mixed up in all of this,"

"Do whatever you want to me. You have me right where you want me," he insisted. Elijah's enhanced hearing picked up the footsteps above. He hoped they didn't belong to you. "We can work out a deal, Minerva,"

"I don't have time for games, Elijah. Don't worry. I won't finish her off you will. I'll leave her down here with you all cut up. Eventually you will get hungry and well," she drifted off once the door opened. Elijah looked to see you being dragged down the stairs. You thrashed around to be free from your captors.

"Your name," Minerva announced with a wide smile. She waved her hand in excitement. You noticed the mysterious woman and then Elijah.

"Wh-what's going on?" You stuttered.

"Afraid your boyfriend over here needs to learn a lesson. I'm sorry but it seems like you are getting the punishment," Minerva pouted. She placed her hands on your cheeks. Panic started to set in. You knew your boyfriend wasn't a mortal human but this was too much. Quickly you shoved her hands from your face and attempted to run.

"I swear I will make your life absolutely unbearable every second you hurt her," Elijah threatened. His eyes black once more. Black veins appeared under his eyes. His fangs making an appearance. He had fed off of you before but this was all too real.

"Well, start counting the seconds then," she laughed. The witch moved her arm towards you. A simple hand movement and you dropped to the floor screaming in pain. Elijah watched you helplessly. Tears filled his eyes.

[justwinginglife]

Partner In Crime Pt 2

PART ONE HERE

@backgroundcharactera sorry I took so long writing this, I got distracted.

There’s a mess at the harbor and while you usually love a good mess, this is one specific part of the city that Mori has charged you with and you hate when someone fucks with your shit. You’re usually perched atop your throne, letting the masses do your dirty work (you’re too important to be doing all the heavy lifting yourself), but if someone dares summon you, you’re not afraid to get your hands a little dirty. You know what they say, if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself.

And even though you hate messing up your freshly manicured fingers, you love the damage they can do and you’re prepared to dole out damage in FULL.

Your eyes settle on a group of men that are giving your men a tough time. You make a mental note to reinforce security around the harbor later. For now, it’s your turn.

“Chuuya, baby, will you do me a teensy favor?”

He perks up at his name. “Anything for you, doll.”

You point to the thugs. “Can you take out the trash for me, love? I only need the leader and I can take care of him myself.”

He smirks. “Sure thing, baby.” And with that, he shoots off, pouncing on his prey.

You stroll towards a large man who has now started to take notice of you. He’s slightly curious by how unbothered you are at the sight of him but he’s still dripping with confidence so he doesn’t think too much about it. He should have thought more about it. He should have given running a good, hard attempt, if only to amuse you. But now he’d have to give begging a shot because he wasn’t going to survive without it, not around you.

“Hey, big fella. Wanna tell me what’s going on? Or would you rather I torture you a little first, make it more exciting?”

He snorts. "They run out of men at the Mafia? Had to send a little girl to do their dirty work?"

You laugh but your brow twitches slightly. “Oh sweetie. And here I was, thinking I’d be generous and kill you quickly.” Your pinched smile stains its way across your face. “I suppose a change in plans can’t be helped.” 

You clench your fist again and he falls to his knees, gasping. “Now, dear. Do you want to rethink your earlier statement? Because I can do this all day, just hover you on the edge of death.”

He glares at you but when his eyes start to bulge out of his head, he puts his hands up, wheezing his surrender.

You pretend to ponder for a minute. “Sorry, are you saying something? I can’t hear you.” 

He tries again, desperately attempting to rasp out his words, but your hold on his lungs has reduced him to mere croaks. 

You peer down at his flailing form. “Not so tough now, are you?” You release him and he drops down to his hands, panting loudly. 

You tap your foot impatiently. “Now then. Let’s get down to business shall we? Who sent you here and why?”

Beads of sweat glide down his skin; he knows he’s dead if he answers and dead if he doesn’t. He can only hope and pray that he hasn’t angered you too much, that you’ll still let him beg for his life. 

You don’t. 

He spills every last secret he has, even the irrelevant ones, anything to gain your favor, and then with a sweet smile, you send him to his grave. As you watch him slump to the ground, you hum to yourself, “Mmm, guess I was nicer than I thought. I hadn’t intended to kill him so quickly. Ah, well.” You step over his corpse like you’re doing nothing more than taking a walk in the garden. 

Chuuya’s long been finished with his end of business and he grins as he takes in the sight of you sauntering towards him. “Got what you needed?”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, he laughs. “Right, right. Of course you got it. Forgive my impudence.” He bows to you. 

“You’re forgiven. But only because you’re cute.” You blow a kiss to him. 

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me cute,” He grumbles but he smiles. 

“Can I call you cute if I saved you some pastries?” You pull out the unfinished bag of pastries from earlier.

His eyes light up and he reaches for the bag but you hold it out of his reach. 

Before you can properly taunt him, his arms are around your waist and he’s flying you to the top of one of the shipyard cranes.

While you’re getting yourself settled, he snatches the bag from your hand. 

“I see you wanted a view with your dessert.” You laugh.

You plop down beside him and watch the sun set over the waters, only stealing a pastry from him every now and then. It’s enough to just have his warmth at your side and the sound of his happy munching filling the air. You can’t help but lean your head on his shoulder while he snacks. 

Then he tenses under your touch and you know he’s about to say it. He’s about to say what you’ve been hoping he won’t say. You’re comfortable around him, he’s the only one you’re comfortable around, and he’s about to ruin it all by saying it. You think about the way he clings to your side, about the way his weight is so familiar, about the way his weight is so comforting, and now, about the way his weight is shifting slightly away from you, about how the weight of his soon-to-be-spoken words hang heavy in the air. 

“We should go, Mori will be wanting an update.” You say, sitting up quickly.

He grabs your wrist. He doesn’t look at you. He simply holds onto it. “We… we’re going to have to have it out eventually.”

“Chuuya-”

“No listen, I’ve been thinking.”

“Well that’s dangerous,” You joke, attempting to lighten the mood, but he’s anything but amused.

“No, you need to tell me. I’ve been letting this go on too long and I need to know now. What are we?”

You sigh. “Chuuya everything is perfect the way it is, don’t go asking things you don’t want to know the answer to.”

He finally looks at you. “And why won’t I want to know the answer? Is this your rejection of me? Are we not everything I’ve been imagining we are? I know you flirt with everyone, but am I imagining that it sounds different when you’re flirting with me?”

You’ve always been good at poker. You’ve never let your emotions control you, you’ve never let anyone control you. But the tug of your heart every time he speaks makes you think otherwise, makes you think his hands have taken hold of your beating organ, makes you think it only beats when he’s there to hold it, makes you think you’d do anything and everything just to make him stop looking at you the way he’s looking at you now. Half expectant and half heart broken. More than half heartbroken. 

“Chuuya, don’t do this to me. We’re already good the way we are.”

He sighs. “But it’s not enough anymore. Please. You owe me this, at least. Just tell me. If you want me to leave you alone, I’ll leave you alone afterwards. But I want to know what it means when you touch me, when you hold me, when you call my name the way you do. Just tell me. Do you love me?”

You squeeze the rails tightly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He starts to stand, clearly disappointed by your answer.

“I love you.”

He freezes.

“I love you, Chuuya. I do. But you shouldn’t love me. We shouldn’t be doing this. We’re good the way we are. The partners in crime thing. It’s good. It’s fun. It’s fine the way it is.” Your words are almost a plea rather than a wholesome confession. 

He scoots a little closer to you, taking your hands in his. “And why shouldn’t I love you? What if I already do? What’s so wrong with that? What’s so wrong with wanting to be more than just partners in crime?”

The answer is right there. But you don’t want to give it to him. You don’t want him to hate you. You don’t want to break his heart. You don’t want to miss the way he smiles, to miss the way his eyes light up whenever you walk into a room, to miss the way he leans on you, the way he needs you. You don’t want to lose him. And the answer might just kill him.

But he needs it from you.

He needs it almost more than he needs you.

And so you give it to him. 

“Because I was hired by Mori to make you fall in love with me.”

Part three in the works lmaoooo sorryyy cliffhangerrr teehee

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Memories Part 2

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel. Mick Davies. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: memory wipe, language, angst, cute dean, fluff, not exactly cannon, implied smut, gun being pulled.

A/N: This is a continuation of my first-ever fic post. Please go easy on me. Hope you enjoy

Summary: You've had your memory wiped and sent off to your death. Sam, Dean, and Cas save you just before it is too late. the guys struggle with being strangers to you after all the years you have shared. You are forced into a life-altering dilemma.

Word count: 4,105 words

************************************************************************

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious?” Why would I not want all my memories back? 

“Don't look at me like that. This life is hard. You could have a clean cut right now.” His face turned glum as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers“ You've been through a lot of shit. No one would judge you if you did choose not to.” You heard his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took it out and answered. “Yeah. Alright. Give me a minute.” He tapped the phone and put it in his back pocket, not taking his eyes away from yours. 

You could see the extra wetness in his eyes, making another tear roll down your cheek. He wiped it away and pulled you into his arms, your arms automatically wrapped underneath his and around him. You laid your face against his chest. He kissed your forehead and said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, just worry about getting cleaned up right now. Everything you need should still be in your bathroom. If not, your phone is on the nightstand on the right. Text me, and I'll make sure you get it. The food will probably be done right around the time you get out. Okay?” 

How can he do this with just a hug? It was so peaceful and safe in his arms. You never wanted to let go, but it had been a tough day and you needed a shower. (your fav food) didn't sound too bad, either. You nodded as you slowly pulled back your face. He took your face in his hands, wiping away more tears. “We will figure all this out later, okay?” he kissed your forehead again, and you felt a drop on your face. 

“Okay. I'm sorry” you manage to pull yourself together.

“Don't apologize. We will get it all figured out,” he said as he let his hands fall to his sides and you did the same.” Do you want me to stay here and wait?”

“No, it's ok. Thank you though. For everything.” you smiled 

“Anytime. Call or text if you need me.” he smiled back and then walked out the door closing it behind him.

You sit down on the bed as you try to collect your thoughts. How could you not get your memories back?! However, you did notice when Dean was describing everyone, it was in the past tense. It might be nice just to break away and have a normal life I guess. No monsters, no demons, no insane British people trying to wipe your mind. (y/n) have a nice hot shower get some food and think about this later. You told yourself. You got up and tried to shake it off. 

“Yes hot shower and some food,” you replied out loud to yourself. You walked into the bathroom and it was simple and nice. the same wood panel as the bedroom. White tile walls with black grout line. Decent size shower. The bathtub was probably bigger than most and a white porcelain sink with a black cabinet underneath. Big mirror above it with a black frame. You turned the shower knob all the way over to hot and waited for the water to warm.

************************************************************************

As Dean shut your door he leaned back on it and sighed. What the hell am I going to do if she doesn't want her memories back?! How could l live without her?! Just then his cell phone started vibrating again. “Yeah, I'm coming.” 

He walked back down To the library. 

“Well, it's about time chum?” Mick Davies was sitting at the first table across from Sam and Cas.

“Oh, I'm sorry I made you wait while I had to comfort my girlfriend that has had her memory wiped twice, almost killed, and kinda freaking out right now. I feel so bad for you.” Dean said raising his voice some. 

“Dean, I know. okay? That's why I called you.” Davies said with guilt in his eyes. “Did you find it?”

“Yes we did,” Sam said as he wheeled Over an older machine. Davies plunged it in and it turned in. 

It started beeping and lights started flickering. 

“Ah, she still works.” He said as he opened a small door below the device. “And there's more than enough of the serum to work. Where's the lovely lass?”

Dean's eyes narrowed “She's upstairs taking a shower.” 

Just then the kitchen buzzer went off. “Shit gotta get that,” Sam said as he hurried to the kitchen. 

“What are we havin'?” Davies asks

“ I don't know what you're having, but We are having (your fav food).” Dean still had an attitude. 

“Dean, let's go see if Sam needs any help.” It was obvious Castiel just wanted to talk to Dean in private. They walked over to the kitchen doorway. Dean looked back, keeping an eye on Mick. 

“ Dean, I don't like them either, but he did just risk his ass to save her. Maybe we should be more welcoming.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “ I'll feed him, but I'm not painting his toenails.” he went over to help Sam.

Cas then rolled His eyes and walked back to the library.

************************************************************************

That shower really hit the spot. You dried off and put your clothes on. You were brushing your hair when you started thinking about Dean. It's nuts how close you felt to him even though he was a stranger at the moment. Thinking over the tour you remember the our rooms thing you could have sworn he said our room. 

Your curiosity got the better of you and you opened the closet. There were women's clothes on the right and men's clothes on the left. You couldn't help yourself. You went to the nightstand on the left And opened the drawer. There was a lore book, a flashlight, a phone charger, a gun, a silver knife, and a box of condoms.  You went to the other nightstand and opened the drawer, you found a pair of glasses, a lore book, a silver knife, a gun, earbuds, hand sanitizer, with a phone sitting on top of the stand. You put on the glasses. Yep, this Was your side you thought as you put them back. You picked the phone up and swiped the screen. A picture of you and Dean showed on the screen. you two were standing By the car again in mid-laugh. It was super cute. You flinched when it started to vibrate. Dean's name came up with an adorable picture of him sleeping. You tapped the Green button. 

“Sup?” you said in a deep voice

“Really? Well, home dawg I was calling to see if you done because the food is ready.” Dean understood your banter so well. 

“Alright, I'm on my way.”

“Lov…’ the call ended.

“ God, I fuckng hate this!” Dean said as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“I know Dean.” Sam tried to comfort his brother as he carried the food over the table. “Just let her eat some food and then we can fix this..”

“Well if that's what she wants,” Dean said hoping you wouldn't want to forget him. He walked over to get the plates out.

“Wait what the hell are you talking about?” Sam Demanded

“ Think about it Sammy, she has been through so much pain. She could turn the other cheek and start living a normal life.” He set a plate for each of them on the table. 

“But dean?” 

“It's her choice and we will be happy for her either way!” 

“So you could just let her go?” Sam doubted as he put out everyone's silverware.

“If that's what she wants,” he argued. “Do you need anything else?

“No, that's all. Thanks.” Sam sighed “My money is on her choosing you.”

“GET BACK CASTIEL ITS ONE OF THEM!!” Sam and Dean heard you yell

They looked at each other and then ran for the library.

“(Y/N) PUT THE GUN DOWN!” you looked at Dean. “He is here to help. This is Mick, he's the one who called us and told us where you were. He can restore your memories with that thing.” he pointed at the machine. 

“Don't ya think someone should have mentioned to her I was coming?!” Mick shouted in fear.

“Where the hell did you get a gun?” Dean stormed over to you and held out his hand. You took a couple of steps back. Dean stayed where he was and bounced his hand a few times. 

You looked down at his hand. You still had the gun pointed at Mick. “Ha! not happening! Its mine. It was in my nightstand.” 

“I should have known,” Dean said as he shook his hand. “Come on. We aren't gonna let him hurt you.” he started to step closer.

You stepped back and pointed the gun at Dean. He stopped immediately “How do I know that?! How do I know this isn't a big trick?”

“Really (y/n)?” you could see the tears”s in his eyes. “You saw the pictures. You know I wouldn't let him hurt you.”

“Oh yeah? Then how did they take me the first time?” tears started streaming down your face. You felt so betrayed. You trusted these 3 men and they let one of them in here. You didn't know what to think. You were so confused and couldn't remember anything. Before you saw the British guy everything was fine. It's like he triggered something in you, something you couldn't control. You were angry, panicked, and overwhelmed.

Just then you felt Castiel behind you. He quickly put his fingers to your forehead and you passed out. Dean hurried to help Cas catch you, but he didn't need it. “I got her. I can go lay her in her bed?” Dean nodded as he took the gun out of your hand and put it in the back of his jeans. Castiel disappeared with you in his arms.

“Jesus fucking christ!” Mick said. “Seriously why didn't anyone explain the whole situation to her?!” 

Dean shook his head and hurried for the door.

He made it outside before the tears started falling. He leaned up against the Impala, then slowly slid down the side. What the fuck happened?! Was it just Mick being there? Was it a side effect of the mind-wiping? Did she really not believe he would everything in his power to make sure nobody hurt her? “Then how did they take me the first time?” her voice echoed in his head. It was his fault. If he was a little more cautious or a little less cocky maybe he wouldn't have gotten shot. Maybe she would be better off without him, living a normal life. She wouldn't have to run, wouldn't have to fight, she wouldn't have to hunt. He knew he should let you go. It felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, his heart breaking in his chest as the tears fell. 

************************************************************************

Sam blinked and thought about going after Dean. But decided against it. He’ll want to be alone. So he walked into the kitchen to put the food in the fridge for later. He turned around as he closed the fridge finding Mick standing in the doorway.

“So was she freaked before she saw me?” Mick hesitantly asked.

‘No. She was fine. Even joking.” Sam sighed and then explained everything that he witnessed today. “I don't know what happened after she and Dean went upstairs. I don't know anything about the pictures”

“I'm guessing it was me.”

“No. I mean you probably made it worse, but she said the gun was in her nightstand. So she felt threatened enough to carry it downstairs before she even knew you were here.” 

“I have heard of the mind-wiping having a side effect, but I never seen it in myself.

“Is it temporary?.”

“I don't know. All I heard was side effects. Nothing specific. I'll start checking the inventory list for anything about mind wiping.” Mick didn't know what else to do.

“Hey Mick, If she is experiencing side effects would it even be safe to give her memories back?”

“I'm not sure mate.” he hung his head and walked out.

“Son of a bitch!’ Sam said as he threw one of the pots he had used in the sink.

************************************************************************

You awaken to Cas sitting in a chair beside your bed. You didn't say anything just stared at the ceiling of your room, playing back what just happened in your mind. You remembered everything that happened, everything you said, everything you did. But you could not remember what sent you into such a frenzy. You don't even remember being able to stop. The gun wasn't even loaded, but they didn't know that.

“(y/n)?” 

You shut your eyes and stayed silent.

“Come on (y/n). How are you feeling?” You rolled on your side putting your back toward him and you could feel the tears start. “Please don't ignore me.” he pleaded 

“Cas, I just can't right now okay?” you were so ashamed of what had just happened.

“Okay, But I'm gonna sit here until you can.”

“Why? I just acted like a fool and pulled a gun on innocent people. Why would you want to stay with me?” you started crying.

“Because I care about you. No matter what,” he said as he put his hand on your shoulder for comfort

*********************************************************************

He didn't know how long he had been sitting by the impala. Dean just sat there numb. His eyes were on fire, his head pounding. He needed to move, need to get this the fuck over with. He found the will to get up. It was so quiet in the bunk, peaceful chaos. 

“Dean?” Sam yelled from the library

“Yeah.” Dean's voice cracked. He cleared his throat as he walked into the library. “Whatcha doin'? Where is everyone?”

Sam looked up at his brother he could tell Dean had been crying, but he wouldn't dare say anything about it. “ (y/n) and Cas are still upstairs. Mick and I are reading up on mind wipe lore. He just went to the dungeon for something. He told me he had heard some things about it and you know how the men of letters were.” 

“They documented everything.”

“Exactly. So if we can find anything that can help, maybe there's a spell..’

“Sam.”

Sam continued his thought. “ Or if we can get rid of the side effects somehow.”

“Sam!”  Dean spoke a little louder. Sam stopped and looked at his brother.” I think I need to let her go.”

“Dean, but if we find something. Maybe getting her memories back will help..”

“Sam! Memories or no memories, I have to let her go. The British men of letters did this because of me. She almost got killed because of me. Look at all the shit she has been through because of me. Everything she has lost because of me. And it's just gonna keep happening. I have to do the right thing here. His eyes misted over again. God, they stung so bad, but it was nothing compared to the torment in his chest. he started to walk away.

“Dean, Come on…”

“ I don't wanna hear it Sammy!” he said with a raised voice and continued to walk away.

As he entered his old room he laid the gun on the table and then started to pace. The record player caught his eye. He walked over and put the needle on the record. He couldn't even remember what he had last listened to in here. Bad Medicine starts playing and the memories but his birthday from 2 years ago start rushing back.

(y/n) doing a sexy little strip tease, him holding her up against the wall, round 2 on the side table in the library that nobody ever used. He pushed the needle off making a screeching sound.  

He threw himself on his bed. “God I fucking hate this!”

************************************************************************

You must have cried yourself to sleep. You lay there a few minutes just taking in the quiet. You decide it's time. You roll over and see Castiel sitting in the same chair reading a book. “You're still here?” surprise in your voice.

He closed his book. “I told you I would stay until you are ready to talk.”

“What if I'm not ready yet?”

“Then I'll wait.”  

“Whatcha reading?”

“A journal of a former member of the men of letters.”

“Oh yeah? Anything good?”

“Well, he was one of the members that was experimenting with mind wiping”

“Interesting. Why are you reading it?”

“Because Mick told Sam that he had heard there are side effects of the mind wiping. So Mick, Sam, and I are reading into it.”

“So you guys think my psycho moment was from a side effect?”

“Maybe. I do have another theory.”

“Do tell.”

“You have been through a lot in the last 4 days. And yeah you were nervous after I explained everything to you, but any normal human probably would have had a meltdown way before you did. I do have one question though. You seemed ok with me, Sam, and Dean. Why bring the gun downstairs?”

“I found it on my nightstand. I took it down to clean. The damn thing was filthy. Then saw the British guy and I freaked. I can't explain it. It's like fight or fly kicked in and I chose to fight. And I couldn't stop. I have been questioning why I trust the 3 of you as much as I do. No offense. I heard the Brit and freaked out.”

“No offense taken. It would make total sense for you not to trust us. The British guy is Mick. He is the one who called us and told us where you were. And he ran away from the British Men Of Letters to come help us.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

“Mick? Well yeah, it's more our fault for not telling you he was coming. You were scared.”

You giggled and shook your head. “No. Dean. I pointed a gun at him and pretty much told him it was his fault I got kidnapped. Which is not what I think at all.”

“You were scared and pissed off, you said things you didn't mean. If anyone knows about that, it's Dean. You guys will be fine. We need to get you some food, I can hear your stomach growling from over here.” you gave him a look of dread. “I promise it will be alright. They've been through far worse. Come on.”

You sighed heavily and got up.

You got to Sam's room before you couldn't take the silence anymore. “So did you find anything good in the journal?”

“Interesting good yes, side effect good not yet.”

“But you don't think it was a side effect?”

“Well no, but if there are side effects, we want to know what they are.”

“But when Mick fixes me we won't have to worry about it anymore.”

“Actually, there's something I want to talk to you about.” he paused at the top of the stairs. “ (y/n) You have been through a great deal of pain in your lifetime. The hunting life isn't great. If you wanted..”

You started walking down the stairs “You don't have to give the clean break, no judgment speak. Dean beat you to it.”

“Oh well, I just wanted you to know all your options.”

“Got it Cas.” he looked like a child that just got yelled at. “I'm sorry I'm just hungry.”

His face lifted. “I know I can hear it.”

As you walk into the library you find Sam and Mick. Sam looks up and smiles at you.

Mick looks a bit weary. “Well, Ello Love. Are you armed?”

You give a slight eye roll. “No. I'm sorry..”

Mick cut you off. “No need for apologies. Not the first time a pretty dame pulled a gun on me.” he smiled.  You smiled back and your stomach growled louder than before.

Sam laughed “Hungry?”

“Starving!”

“Come on,” he said getting up.

“Sam I can…” he gave you a stern look “Keep you company while you make the food.”  you gave him a happy smile.

“What a great idea” he beamed sarcastically

You rolled your eyes and followed him. 

“I saved it. So all we have to do is reheat it. “

“Easy Enough.” you looked around. Dean was nowhere to be found, but you didn't want to come off needy so you didn't ask. 

He chuckled “ He is upstairs in his room.”

“Who?” you tried to play it off. 

“(y/n) “Sam said as you put the food in the oven

“Is he still mad at me?”

He turned around a look of surprise on his face. “He was never mad at you. He's worried about you. He blames himself for all the shit you've been through.”

You raised one eyebrow “ How the hell would any of this be his fault?!”

“Mind wipe right. Dean is a protector. If anything happens to anyone on his watch it's his fault. He's been like that as long as I can remember. Plus he thinks being with him is putting you in harm's way.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Sam laughed “This is the last time I'm making this.”

“I said I'll be right back.” you heard him laugh again as you walked out. 

************************************************************************

Cas waited until you and Sam were gone “Have you guys found anything?”

“Nothing yet, but we keep trying yea?”

“Yes! Are we sure she's experiencing side effects though?” 

“Honestly. I have my doubts. The way Sam explained it seemed like she trusted the 3 of you. He said she was even joking a bit, she only freaked out when she saw me. But if that's the case why did she have the gun before she knew I was here?”

They saw you marching your way through the library.

“Carry on Boys,” you said as you continued. Both looking at you in confusion. 

“Well, she looks mad. Should we be concerned?” Cas asked as they both starred after 

“No gun. She's fine.” Mick sniggered 

“Anyway. We did have a conversation about all that. She said she did trust us. She had been asking herself why all day. Said she didn't know she just did.” cas explained.” and she found the gun in her nightstand. Apparently, it was filthy. She brought it down to clean it.”

“Fucking hell. I doubt it was a side effect. She was probably frightened. Some British institute wipes your brain and sends you to your death, you wake up with strangers, and then one of the British cunts shows up here unannounced. I would probably pull a gun too.”

“I agree.”

************************************************************************

Come on. You can do this. You knocked on Dean’s door. 

“Go away Sam!” he yelled.

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. “It's not Sam.”

“Hey (y/n) you feeling any better?” 

“Well, I was until your brother told me that you are blaming yourself for this?! For everything?!”

“Fuckin Sam. It is my fault. You said so yourself.”

“Don't you curse Sam! He was just being honest. I know what I said. It was the heat of the moment. I really don't blame you and I do trust you. ”

“If you trust me so much, why did you have the gun in the first place?”

“I took the damn thing down to clean. It’s not even fucking loaded. I was just scared and I didn't want to go back. I'm sorry I pointed it at you.”

He got up and rushed over to the gun. No bullets. “You pointed an unloaded gun at us?”

“Like I just said I was freaking scared, no one else knew it wasn't loaded.”

He started laughing. 

“Did you really think I would shoot you?”

“In these circumstances? Absolutely.”

Just then his phone started ringing. He put it on speaker. “The food is getting cold again.”

“We’ll be right there Sammy.” he hung up the phone

“I'm not done”

He cocked his eyebrow with a grin. “Well go on then.”

“I'm a hunter with or without you. Judging from the pictures on the dresser and my phone I would rather it be with. You can't blame yourself. Sometimes bad shit happens and there's nothing you can do about it.”  you declared

“You Done?”

“Yes!”

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. His lips just inches away from yours. 

“Good! Now Let's go get some food.” he smiled.

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 7

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: 18+ NSFW, oral (f receiving)

a/n: none, just enjoy i guess.

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Your eyes flutter open, immediately greeted by Harry’s smiling face. “Good morning, princess.”

“Morning,” you greet him groggily. “How long have you been staring at me, you creep?” You bring your hand up booping Harry on his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” his hand slid up from where it had been resting on your hip to cup your cheek. “You just looked so beautiful, I couldn’t help it.” He leaned in, gently brushing his lips against yours. “You snore, you know?” 

“I’m sorry, did I keep you up?” Harry didn’t answer, he simply looked at you with a dreamy smile on his face, as if there was something he wanted to say. 

There was, those three words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want to say them yet. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were true, but you had only known each other for a month. He knew how reserved you were, and he was afraid that if he said them too soon it would scare you away. 

“Earth to Harry.” You pulled him out of his thoughts, playfully knocking your fist against his head. “Where’d you go just then?” 

“Sorry darling, I was just thinking about all the special things I have planned for my birthday girl today.” He leaned in, kissing you softly. “Happy birthday, by the way.” 

You giggle as he begins smothering you with kisses all over your face. “You really don’t have to do anything, just being here with you is enough.” 

“Seriously?” He groaned dramatically sitting up in bed. “I wish you had said something sooner. It would have saved me so much trouble.” 

You laugh at his sarcasm, pulling his pillow from behind him and hitting him across the chest. He arched his brow at you, shaking his finger. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, or else you’d be in for it right now.” 

“Such a tough guy,” you mock as you sit up, leaning in close, hoping to finish what you started the night before. You run your hand down his chest and start kissing along his jaw. 

“Y/N… that mmm, hold on.” He grabs you by the wrist, moving your hand off of him and leans back. “As much as I would love to, and I hate to deny you anything on your birthday, I’ve got to stick to a schedule if I‘m going to spoil you properly.” 

“Oh sure, sorry.” You pull back sheepishly, your gaze dropping to your lap. 

“Hey,” he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t apologize, I love where that pretty little head of yours is at. I’m here for a whole week, we’re going to have plenty of time for that. Trust me. But your birthday is only today.” You nod silently, still feeling embarrassed by the rejection. “Okay, princess?” He needed to hear you say the words. 

You push everything down, telling yourself you’re silly for being disappointed. “Okay Harry.” You smile, showing him that you’re fine. 

“Good girl.” With his hand still on your chin, he pulled you close for a lingering kiss. “Now get dressed, it’s time for phase one.” 

“Phase one? How many phases? And how should I dress? Where are we going?” The questions tumble out of you one after another.

“Slow down there,” Harry chuckled. “First of all, we aren’t going anywhere.” You looked at him curiously. “I need to set up a couple of things, which means I need to get rid of you for a bit.” 

“Hey,” you whine. “Rude.” 

Harry smiled and kissed you on the tip of your nose. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Just wear something comfortable. I wanted to make sure you were nice and relaxed, so you’re going for a massage while I run some errands and get things ready.” 

“Really?” You question, he nods his head in confirmation. “Harry, that’s amazing, thank you so much!” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. 

Once you had both gotten dressed, Harry dropped you off at the massage parlor, and went off to prepare the rest of your day. The massage was better than you had expected, the masseuse worked your knots and tension away with ease as you let your mind drift off. You spent your time on the table thinking of Harry; wondering what else he had planned for today, but more than anything, you thought about the one thing that was never far from your mind. What was all of this? You were nervous to have that conversation with him, but you knew it was getting to a point where you couldn’t put it off any longer. You were falling deeper and deeper by the day, the idea that he may not feel the same was weighing heavy on your mind. It had been since Harryween.   

After your massage, you stepped out into the parking lot expecting Harry to be there waiting for you. Instead, there was a limo parked out front, the driver stood beside it holding a sign with your name on it. You approached the man and confirmed he was your ride home. 

You lounged in the back of the limo, partaking in complimentary champagne as you traveled the streets. When the car pulled up to your house, you saw Harry running out the side door and straight for the limo, opening your door for you. 

“Feeling relaxed, princess?” He asked as he took your hand and helped you out of the car.

“So relaxed Harry, thank you.” You pulled him close, thanking him with a kiss. “For the massage, and the limo.” 

“Anything for you.” He stepped back and offered you his arm, you linked yours through his instantly, and he guided you into the house. 

You entered through the kitchen to find a large balloon arch around the doorway to the dining room. When you stepped through, your eyes went wide as you looked around. There were banners and streamers everywhere. You chuckled when you noticed the theme. 

“Disney princess?” You asked. 

“Of course, princesses for my princess.” He grinned, his precious dimples on full display. 

You stepped up to the princess banner, and did a double take when you looked at Snow White. “Harry, did you draw a lip ring on Snow White?” 

“Snow White having a lip ring is canon now.” He shrugged. “It’s your fault.” 

You laughed and continued to look around, noticing the several wrapped presents on the table. “Harry, this is all too much. Seriously.” 

“It will never be enough,” he said as he stepped up behind you leaning close to whisper in your ear. “And it’s not even close to finished.” He moved away, pulling out a chair at the end of the table. “Sit please. Food first, then presents.” 

You take a seat, Harry slides in your chair and places a kiss to the crown of your head before going into the kitchen. He returns quickly with two plates, putting one down in front of you, and placing one down at the place setting to your right, taking his seat beside you. You look over the selection, scrambled eggs, home fries, bacon, sausage, and a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with a candle in them. “Harry, this is literally every single one of my favorite breakfast foods. How did you know?” 

“It’s what you ordered the day I met you.” His eyes were locked on you, almost as if he was in a trance. 

Your jaw drops as you stare at him in amazement. “You noticed… and remembered my order?” 

He brought his hand up, brushing a stray hand behind your ear. His hand rested on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I notice and remember everything about you. It’s hard not to.” 

You were speechless, you just stared into Harry’s eyes, feeling the sting of unshed tears in your own. You had never felt more seen. You didn’t know what you had done so right in life to end up here, with him, but you would do it a thousand times over if this was the result. 

“None of that now,” Harry pulled you out of your thoughts, wiping a stray tear that you didn’t know had fallen. “We don’t want soggy pancakes, now do we?” 

You chuckle, pulling out of his grasp and wiping your eyes. “Sorry, they’re happy tears. I promise.” 

“Good,” he said, resting his hand on your thigh. “Now make a wish.” He said, nodding to the candle on your pancakes. 

“I honestly can’t think of one, my life couldn’t get more perfect than it is right now.”

“Ugh… so corny,” Harry groaned jokingly. You both laughed, but when you looked at him you saw a twinkle in his eye that you hadn’t noticed before, making your heart leap. 

After you ate, Harry had you open your gifts. The first was the designer version of your handbag. Obviously yours was a cheap knock off, Harry had noticed and wanted you to have the real thing. He had also gotten you a custom perfume. You had told him once about your favorite scent, one that you wore exclusively until it was discontinued. Since then you had been having a hard time finding one you liked even half as much. He found a company that made custom scents, and had them recreate it for you. Of course, in true Harry style, the third gift was a body pillow with a picture of him on it. The one he had joked about getting you when you were in New York. 

You laughed and told him how silly he was, but truthfully, you knew you would use it. Even though you had only spent one night with him, you were already worried about being able to sleep without him beside you. Being in his arms felt so right, but you knew you were going to be alone again soon. You wondered if it was creepy to ask if you could spray the pillow with some of his cologne before he left. 

You had lost count of all of the birthday phases he had planned, but the next one was to take you shopping at your favorite store. He wanted to get you something special to wear to dinner, you insisted that you had plenty of options already, but he refused to take no for an answer. If you were being honest, Harry clearly had a much better grip on fashion than you did, so getting his help picking out clothes would be a pretty considerable upgrade. 

Shopping with Harry was a whole other experience, you felt like you were in a montage scene in a movie. The two of you went through the store pulling anything and everything to be put aside in a dressing room. Harry would then wait for you to  come out and model the selections for him. When you hated the way something looked on you, or told Harry it made you look fat, and you wouldn’t come out he would insist on you showing him, in his perfectly charming way. When you would finally concede, you couldn’t imagine ever truly denying him anything, he never judged or made you feel badly about how you looked. He told you if you weren’t comfortable, you shouldn’t get it, but then proceeded to tell you how absolutely stunning you looked, and you actually believed him. Well, you believed that he thought you were. 

After a couple of hours, and much more money than you were comfortable with him spending on you, the two of you made your way home to get ready for dinner. You stood in front of the mirror, applying your makeup when you heard Harry clear his throat. You turned to face him, and your eyes went wide at the sight. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt buttoned just enough to show off the tiniest hint of his sparrow tattoos. 

“Wow…” You marveled as your gaze traveled from head to toe, taking in all of him. 

“Yeah?” He asked, doing a quick spin and holding his jacket open to show the look off. 

“Totally. I’ve seen casual Harry, superstar Harry, it’s an absolute pleasure to make the acquaintance of date night Harry.” You smiled at him before returning to your makeup. 

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know,” he says, you look up to lock eyes with him through the mirror. “This is technically our first date.” He placed a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. 

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” he affirmed, his lips still pressed against your skin.

“Very bold,” you say. You watch in the mirror as his brows raise in curiosity. “A birthday first date, I’d say that’s one below a valentine's first date.”

“Go big or go home,” you chuckled at his response as his eyes scanned over the makeup you had spread across the counter. “Do you really need all this junk?” 

“Hell yeah, especially now.” He looks at you with a question in his eyes. “If I’m going to be seen walking around on your arm, I have to try to look at least a little worthy of that.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Harry’s arms move from your waist to your shoulders, turning you to face him. “First of all, your worth is not based on how you look. Ever. Y/N, you have so much to offer this world, so much that makes you incredible.” Your gaze begins to fall, but he stops it from reaching the ground, sliding his finger under your chin. “And second of all, you are so fucking beautiful, and if I have to remind you of that every god damned day, I will. But someday you’ll see it too. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Your breath hitched, the sincerity of the moment overwhelming you. You didn’t know what to say, so you went to your usual fallback. Humor. “I swear to god, if you start quoting that fucking One Direction song to me, I’m kicking you out of my house.” 

He chuckled, cupping your face in his hands. “There’s my girl.” He pulled you in and kissed you softly. He knew you had trouble being vulnerable, and receiving compliments so he didn’t push any further. He wanted to be a safe space for you, but it was going to take time for you to build that level of trust. He would give you that, he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

“Now you finish whatever you need to finish, for yourself. I’ll be in the other room.” He kissed you on the nose before stepping out to the living room. 

You finished your makeup and moved to the bedroom to put on your dress and finish your hair. You slipped your heels on and walked out to the living room to meet up with Harry. He stood when he heard your footsteps, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and let out a soft breath when he saw you. 

“Y/N… wow,” he ran his free hand along his jaw.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the way he was looking at you. His gaze was intent and unrelenting. “You, uh… you got me flowers?” Harry remained silent for a moment, too caught up in taking you in to fully register your words. “Harry?”

“Oh sorry,” he blushed, realizing he’d been caught gawking. “I got you flowers,” he stuck his hand out, offering you the bouquet. 

“Where were you hiding these?” You ask with a chuckle as you take them, bringing them to your nose to inhale their scent. “They’re so beautiful.” 

“They don’t hold a candle to you, princess.” He leaned down, kissing you until you were both breathless. “Are you ready to go?” His voice was husky, and you felt his breath brush across your lips. 

You nod, trying to compose yourself. “Let me just put these in some water.” You turn and walk into the kitchen, Harry following close behind, not wanting to be too far from you. 

Once the flowers were in water, he helped you with your coat and led you outside, where the limo from earlier was waiting for you. You looked over at Harry with a smirk. 

“I figured we might want to have a few drinks with dinner,” he shrugged, smiling innocently. 

“Mmhmm… real slick, Styles.” You giggle as he leads you into the car. 

Harry seemed to be completely infatuated with you, he always had to be touching you in some way; either holding your hand, putting his arm around your shoulders, or resting a hand on your thigh. Every touch, no matter how slight, sent tingles through your body. Part of that was likely the bottle of champagne that you shared on the way to dinner, but more than that it was a carnal desire, one that had been growing since the day you met Harry. 

He had secured a reservation at a new restaurant that had been getting amazing reviews. It was also nearly impossible to get into. When you were initially seated, you were on opposite sides of the table. As the evening went on, his chair seemed to me moving closer and closer. By the time the server brought out your birthday dessert, complete with candle, but no song, Harry knew you hated being the center of attention. He wouldn't do that to you, he was seated at your side, his hand on the small of your back as you fed each other bites of cake. 

When you returned home, you both made yourselves into the bedroom. As soon as you crossed through the threshold, you slid your shoes off and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sore?” Harry chuckled at your exasperation. 

“Fashion over function fucking sucks.” You groan as you move to your dresser to pull out a pair of pajamas. 

“Tell me about it, sister,” Harry joked as he removed his shirt. You laughed with him before walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” He asked, removing his pants, leaving him in his underwear.

You turned back to him, your brows knit in confusion. “I’m going to go to the bathroom to change.” 

You watched Harry as he stalked toward you, his eyes darkening. “Stay here.”

He took your pajamas out of your hand and dropped them on the floor before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. Feeling your knees begin to go weak, you wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He pulls back, allowing you to catch your breath as he whispers against your lips. “There’s one phase left.”

“Wh… uh… what is it?” You stutter, unable to compose yourself. 

He gives you a devilish smirk and your core tightens. “To make you feel good.” His hand slowly grazes up your thigh and under your dress, running a finger over your panties, groaning when he feels how wet you are. “You poor thing, you’re dripping.” He growls. 

“Harry…” you gasp. 

“Yes, princess?” His tone was cocky, and it was driving you absolutely insane. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Anything for the birthday girl.” He placed your earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently as his hands ghosted up your body, reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. He pulled it down slowly, pausing to unclasp your bra so that he could remove both garments at once. His lips marked your neck as the zipper reached its lowest position. He only removed himself from you to lift your dress and bra over your head. Stepping back to admire you, as your clothing hit the floor. 

As his eyes raked over your body, you started feeling slightly uncomfortable with how exposed you were. You brought your arms up in an attempt to cover yourself, but Harry’s hands were on them immediately, moving them away from you. 

“Don’t hide, beautiful. I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.” He ran his hands across your body, as if he were trying to catalog every peak and valley. “You’re absolutely perfect.” 

“Harry, I…”

“Shh,” he leaned in, silencing you with a kiss, his hands cupping your breasts firmly. “You’re perfect, and that is not up for debate.” 

His lips moved across your jaw, down your neck and then lower. When he reached your breast, he circled his tongue around your nipple before taking it in his mouth, causing you to gasp. You could feel him smile against your skin at the sensation. Before long, the kisses traveled across your chest, paying equal attention to the other side. 

With your gasps and moans spurring him on, Harry continued his descent, dropping to his knees as he kissed down your stomach. He kissed along the band of your panties before sliding them down your legs. You lifted your feet, assisting him in the removal, and he began kissing your calf, moving up to your knee. 

The attention stopped when he felt your knees buckle. “Do you want to go lay down for me angel?” You nod silently and he stands up, guiding you to the bed. “Comfortable?” He asks, once you have gotten settled. You nod again. “I want to hear you, princess. Use your words for me, okay?” 

“Y… yes Harry.” 

He smirked at you, kissing you softly. “Good girl.” He noticed when you shuttered at his words, and kissed you again. This time with more passion. 

He worked his mouth lazily down your body until he was positioned between your legs. He let out a breath over your gistenting core, your back arching at the sensation. “Fuck, Harry.” You whined. 

Just when you think you can’t stand the anticipation any longer, his tongue licks a long stripe through your folds, groaning at the sensation of finally being able to taste you. “God, even sweeter than I imagined.” His eyes looked up at you from his position between your legs, your gaze met his, your eyes half hooded from lust. “So beautiful,” he said before dropping his mouth back down on you.

As his tongue circled your clit, your hands ran through his hair, gripping on and tugging. He moaned into you at the sudden pressure, the vibration ripping through your entire body as you grind your hips against Harry’s mouth. 

Your eyes snap shut as you feel him slowly inserting a finger inside you. “God, you’re so tight.” He groaned, as he started adding a second finger. He worked his mouth and fingers expertly against you, hitting that spot deep inside you as your coil tightened. 

“Harry… more, please, I’m so close.” You begged for him to bring you over the edge. 

“Let go princess.” With that, your back arched off the bed, as you screamed Harry’s name in ecstasy.

He continued to work you through your trembling release, lapping up your juices. Once he was sure he had gotten every last drop, he kissed lazily up your torso, pausing when he was face to face with you. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful.” He pressed his lips to yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled away, noticing your peaceful, yet slightly sleepy expression. “You okay?” 

“Better than okay,” you slur in a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him down into another kiss as your free hand travels down his chest to the band of his underwear. 

He pulls away, grabbing your wrist gently. “Not tonight, princess.” 

“But I… I want to return the favor. You need to get…”

He silences you with another kiss. “You are such a sweetheart, worrying about me like that, but don’t.” He smiles sweetly before dropping his lips onto yours. “It’s your birthday, tonight was all about you, I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“You did.” 

“Good, then my job is done.” He kisses you on each of your cheeks and the tip of your nose. “Get some rest, my darling.” 

He settles beside you, lifting his arm in invitation. You snuggle in close, resting your head on his chest as his arm comes down around you. 

“Good birthday?” He asks before kissing the top of your head. 

“Best ever.” He can feel your cheeks lift in a smile against his chest. 

He hums pensively as he rubs your arm. “I guess I’ve set the bar pretty high for myself for next year.” 

You sigh happily, drifting off to sleep thinking about his words. 

Next year…