#Wouldn't You Miss Me (Dark Globe)

[rastronomicals]

2:23 PM EST March 6, 2024:

Syd Barrett - "Wouldn't You Miss Me (Dark Globe)" From the album Opel (October 17, 1988)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Leftovers

#Syd Barrett #Opel #Wouldn't You Miss Me (Dark Globe)

[randomshyperson]

Favorite Star - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: During halftime at the Golden Globes, two guests find an empty room. Or the one where Lizzie's dress is driving you crazy.

Warnings; (+18), semi-public smut, bottom!Lizzie, dirty talking, implied secret relationship, just sinful. | Words: 1.437k

A/N-> This is actually fluff because I'm a sweetheart and Lizzie's face after losing another award made me very upset. And as the saying goes, the devil works fast but fanfic writers work faster.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You've been teasing her.

All day, even before the awards began, you filled her cell phone with selfies and short videos of getting dressed in your attire - A dark green suit that hugged your body just right and was chosen to match her eyes, giving plenty of material for every rumor that has been circling about the two of you. Then on the red carpet, with intense stares and hidden smirks in her direction that your Agent probably wouldn't approve of. When you finally greeted her, you even dared to whisper how breathtaking she looked next to her ear and Lizzie should have won an acting award right there for covering the way her body shook at the compliment. 

The Golden Globes party was as full as usual, and it was blistering hot and tedious. She still had to deal with an annoying host, and when the break finally happened, Elizabeth wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that the performance had been interrupted.

She made her way through the crowd towards the toilets, offering polite smiles to any of the known guests she crossed glances with and somehow, perhaps because she caught your eye before standing up, Lizzie knew you were following her.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she felt her wrist being gently grabbed. She caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils before you took the lead, holding her hand and guiding her into the first empty room you could find.

You let go of her hand to wrap your arms around her waist, a gentle push to have her against the closed door. Lizzie was still blushing because she was sure Meryl Streep had seen the whole thing.

Your lips were on hers in the blink of an eye, and all she could do was sigh, her eyes closing on instinct. Fuck, she missed this. It seemed like forever since you last kissed, Lizzie was almost beginning to think she'd imagined it.

When you broke apart, you were a little breathless, your eyes shining in her direction filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Hello, gorgeous." You greeted her with a smile, your hands stroking her sides. "Lizzie, this dress is... fuck."

She blushed at your affected tone of voice, smiling shyly. Her hands went to the collar of your dress shirt, and she stared back at you with the same intensity.

"I'm glad you like it." She whispers even though the room is empty and the noise of the party outside is enough to drown out the sounds inside. "Do you know what the best part is? How easy it comes off..." She teases naughty an inch away from your lips, pleased with the shaky sigh that escapes you. Your hands tighten a little more firmly around her waist and Lizzie bites her lip before instinctively thrusting her hips towards you. The cue is answered immediately - You grab her dress to put up a little so your thigh can fit between her legs, giving her something to grind against. But instead of giving in completely, she’s all too aware of where she is and the short time you both have before the end of the break. So Lizzie fiddles with your tie. "We can't. Not here."

You pout, the hands on her hips giving a tentative pull, forcing her to grind down into your flexing thigh, and her determined gaze falters into an aroused expression, the blood flowing not only to her cheeks but down her body, at a speed that makes her gasp for air. The hot knot on her lower belly making her dizzier by the second.

"Why wait, when you want it so badly?" You challenge back as if you knew how about the ache between her legs. You lean in to attack her collarbone with kisses that turn her into a panting mess, struggling to keep her eyes open. You gently bite the most sensitive spot behind her ear that you have learned to memorize and Lizzie lets out a soft whimper, her hips thrusting forward on instinct.

But there's movement outside. Footsteps and a soft bell. Break time is about to be over. Lizzie grumbles, the firm hands on your shoulder pushing you gently.

"We have to go." She says, but you don't let go, you pull her face to yours and kiss her hard. Your tongue makes her knees go weak and the only support is your thigh between her legs. She whines again, wishing she wasn’t wearing a dress at all. "Baby, they'll notice-" She manages to pant between your firm kisses, but she's grinding against you with a little more frenzy in the next second. Your hands move under her dress and Lizzie lets her face fall into the space of your neck, unable to care about the lipstick staining the collar of your shirt.

She choked on a moan when suddenly, your fingers reached forward - you just pushed the fabric of her already ruined panties aside and sank them inside her without warning. The throaty moan that escapes her is muffled on your skin.

It's ridiculous how helpless she is; riding your fingers in chase of her climax in near despair. And you're not gentle either, your thrusts are deep and quick inside her because you can't afford to prolong this and the second warning bell will ring soon. The cameras will be turned on again, your chairs will be empty, and more gossip about a possible relationship between the Marvel stars will surface in the media.

But Lizzie is coming hard against your hand, so she can't care about any of that right now.

It's one of the quickest orgasms she's ever had in her life, but she doesn't have time to feel embarrassed about it. You remove your hand to suck your fingers clean as she tries to breathe normally again, her hands gripping your shoulders so she doesn't slip to the floor due to her shaky legs.

You turn your face to her next, kissing her intensely and Lizzie moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. You smile as you break away.

"I kinda wanna skip the party and take you home, Miss Olsen." You let her know sweetly, and Lizzie lets out a short, breathy chuckle. 

But the second bell rings, and the cameras have been turned on. She curses quietly, and you help her to stand up properly.

"Come on, let me help you with this." You ask, your hands pulling her face to lessen the mess that has become her lipstick as she tries to do the same with you. 

But she knows, she knows for sure that her worn-out dreamy expression, the mess in her hair, will give away what she’s been up to. And that not only the other guests, but the fans will know too.

She swallows dryly, tugging at your hand. "They'll know."

You hesitate before giving her a small smile. "Is that so bad, Lizzie?"

She takes a deep breath, her lips cracking into a small smile. "I just... hoped to share the news in a different way."

You absorb her words for a moment, trying to ignore the warm happiness blossoming in your chest. Lizzie wants to go public. You steal a glance at the door before looking back at her and sighing. "Okay, I have an idea."

The whole thing goes very quickly; you pull your cell phone out of your pocket and take a picture of your lipstick-stained shirt collar. She looks at you with a frown.

"What...?"

"Well, you're not on Instagram so this is as good as it gets." You explain, letting her see the photo and the small caption that simply read “a good-luck kiss from my favorite star”. Lizzie felt her face burn, and she giggled nervously. This would cause some commotion, she could already imagine Twitter going insane trying to guess who you were talking to. Knowing her fans, they probably already knew.

She stares at you to say; "Your agent is going to kill you. Not only that, they'll drown you with questions when we are out of here."

You chuckled, offering her a wink. "It was totally worth it."

She approaches again, stealing a short kiss before touching the door handle. "I'll fix my makeup, you go ahead."

You pout. "But my picture was so nice..."

Lizzie rolls her eyes with a laugh. "I never said you couldn't post it." She teases, and it's her turn to give you a wink before walking out the door.

This woman is still going to be the death of you. Honestly.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen fics

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Heart and Gentle People 3

Summary: It's been a couple of months since you've seen your ghoul. Neither of you expects to cross paths in the Mojave.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Some heavy putting and kissing here. Alcohol as well, i guess exhibitionist behavior?

Part 4 -> HERE

Freeside is one of the largest and relatively safest cities that Cooper has been to in his two hundred years on this cursed Earth. People still try to kill him, what's new, but this place has tall stone walls and well-meaning gangs that patrol the broken streets. The Kings make him huff and twist his lips as nostalgia hits him like a deathclaw.

The only bar in town is called The Atomic Wrangler, and Cooper castes his gazes across the bar and stage before he turns to the twins who own the establishment. They introduce themselves as Francsine and James Garrett, and Cooper tilts his hat in a greeting and orders a stiff drink.

Several hours later, he sits at a table, legs extended and pleasantly drunk as he laughs with the other patrons of the bar at the comedian on stage. He makes a sound of confusion when a shadow suddenly falls upon him, and then there is a smoothskin blocking his view. The curse that bubbles falls to the wayside when he looks up and realizes that it's not just any smoothskin. It was his.

You smile down at the Ghoul, that familiar amused quirk of your lips that Cooper hadn't realized he'd missed so much. So much had changed since the last time he had seen you, that this almost felt like meeting you for the first time all over again. Coop blinked up at you, jaw dropping as you step between his open legs, and proceeded to sit in his lap.

"Fancy meeting you here, cowpoke," you say, and despite his brain being soaked in alcohol, Cooper wasn't a complete fucking idiot. His hands find your hips and drag you close, manhandling you until you sit pressed flush to his front, your core already hot and pulsing with need. His cock throbs in his pants, and Coop bucks forward, a quiet sigh of pleasure escaping him at the friction.

"I'm too drunk for pillow talk, baby," the ghoul rumbles and his hands find your ass, massaging the globes harshly, and ruts up in a slow grind against your covered cunt. He finds your eyes, licks his teeth, and dives in to bite along the collom of your throat. He trails up your jaw and then your cheeks, lingering there as he hisses in your ear.

"Better get me outta here before I fuck you in front of all thae people. Give 'em a real show."

Your thighs quake at the dark promise, and you have to really think to yourself. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care?

Cooper watches your reaction, and a slow, evil grin creeps along his face. One hand leaves your ass and slides around, his thumb slipping between the apex of your legs and rubbing against your clothed clit. The pressure has you cursing quietly and falling forward, your face resting in the crook of the ghoul's neck. He laughs, rough and deep in your ear.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Darlin'. You'd want to show everyone in here just who you fuckin belong to."

You hiss through your teeth, already feeling like you're at the end of the rope. You hump against his hand, wanting to come so badly it hurts. Cooper goes back to sucking dark marks into your flesh, teeth nipping harshly, and it takes an embarrassingly quick time for you to tip over the edge.

Cooper swallows your whine with a kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips and tasting the nuka and rum you'd had earlier. He keeps you close as you come down from your high, kissing you until you have to push yourself away from him.

You already look fucked out, but Coop isn't nearly done with you, and tucks his arms under your ass and stands from his seat. He marches to the bar, where James hands him a key to the corner room upstairs without a word.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #dear hears and gentle people

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Need You

Marc Spector x f!reader

Word count: 2588

Summary: In the middle of the night, when Marc comes home, is when he needs you the most.

Warnings: S m u t. Nasty, filthy, smut. Specifically: oral (both male and female receiving), riding, and p in v (no protection), let's add praise kink to be safe. Which means this is NSFW. Which means minors DNI. Also language. That's a big one. Marc can't help it.

There's fluff too, probably very cheesy. So bad omg. Smut with no plot. Not beta read. Let me know if ya'll like <3

...

The bed dipped and you stirred, your mind foggy—caught between consciousness and the realm of sleep. Your bleary eyes cracked open, vision hazy in the darkness. You managed a quick glimpse at the digital clock on the nightstand. 

3:55 AM. 

Your eyes fell shut as you stretched your limbs like a cat under the sun, a tired little whine escaping you. You had work in a few hours.

Turning over, you collided with the warmth of bare skin. Strong arms immediately wrapped around you, calloused fingers burying under your too-large t-shirt to skim down the dip of your spine. A warm kiss to your temple had you sighing in contentment and you breathed in the fresh scent of body wash as your hands slowly glided over damp skin. Your fingers traced the familiar ridges of marred flesh, tiny scars from the past that led up to the thin golden chain nestled comfortably between you both.

"Marc?" His name felt thick on your tongue. You knew it was him by touch alone. He was the one that held you as if afraid of losing you. He’d dreamed about it enough times to fear it, and each time, you reassured him that he wouldn't.

"Yeah, baby, it's me," he muttered, drawing small circles over your skin, "didn't mean to wake you." 

"S'okay. Missed you." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your voice heavy with sleep. Marc hummed, a hand slowly trailing down your back to grab the globes of your ass under your thin panties, giving each of them a gentle squeeze. 

"Missed you, too." He said into your hair, kissing your bed-slept strands. You tipped your head back to look him in the eyes. The moonlight peeking through the blinds did little to illuminate his features, but you could make out the contours of his face, the prominent line of his nose. His eyes, dark and hooded, were focused on nothing but you. It was a stare you were well acquainted with. To others, it was deadly. To you, it was nothing but pure affection.

"You okay?" You asked him as you always did after he came home from a mission, reaching up to cradle the side of his face. His stubble was rough under your fingertips, your thumb lovingly caressing his cheekbone. He didn’t shave, probably too tired, but you didn’t mind.

"Yeah," he sighed into your touch, lashes fluttering, "I'm okay. Better now." You could feel the hardness of his bulge through his boxers. He was needy, pushing his length against you in a silent plea for attention. You chuckled tiredly, shifting to press your lips over his eager ones. It started innocent enough, lips fusing like puzzle pieces in a dance you both knew well. 

Marc peppered kisses over every inch of your face before gently sucking a bruise onto the delicate skin of your neck. You groaned, your fingers threading through his damp curls, easing him off just a bit.

"What's gotten into you?" You breathed, relishing the way his tongue lapped over the mark he'd left to soothe the ache.

"Need you, baby," he grunted, trailing his plush lips over your face, “need to feel you.” 

"Yeah?" You shuddered, a throbbing need blooming between your legs, "then take what you need."

As soon as you uttered those words, one of his hands came to rest behind the nape of your neck, guiding you into another heated kiss. It was filthy this time—wet—tongues and teeth clashing sloppily. Not so innocent anymore.

Okay, so Marc wanted it messy. Who were you to deny him? 

The night lamp was quickly switched on, and all thoughts on getting any sleep were left in the dust, not that you minded too much. You ended up between his legs with his boxers gone and your t-shirt flug somewhere, your knees cushioned by the pillow Marc had placed on the floor for you. 

"Let me take care of you." You purred, breathing over his cock before spitting on it without hesitation. You watched it run down his length and over the curve of his balls, seeping into the sheets below. Your eyes followed the stream with fascination before you devoured him whole, working your lips back and forth, from base to swollen tip. 

Marc was seated at the edge of the bed breathing heavily, one of his forearms propping him up while the other hand disappeared in your hair, guiding you.

"You take me so well, sweetheart," he whispered, eyes lidded as he watched you work, "love how you choke on my cock." And as if to prove his point he weaved his fingers into your hair, shoving your face into his pelvis. He made you sputter and wheeze, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. More spit dribbled past your lips and down his length, as you sucked and sucked and sucked. 

"Fuck, baby, you know exactly what I need, don't you?" He groaned, his head lolling to the side lazily. You hummed, letting your glossy eyes flutter just a bit when you glanced up at him, making sure to hold his gaze for a moment before lowering them again. You knew that drove him crazy. 

And it did, judging by the growl that rumbled in his chest. He tapped a finger over the tip of your nose, a signal for you to stop. You obediently pulled away with a loud pop, licking your swollen lips free of the salty precome that lingered. 

"Fuck, c'mere," Marc snarled, surging forward and lifting you to straddle him. He fell back against the bed, letting your hands roam the expanse of his smooth chest, your fingers lightly grazing over his skin from collarbone to navel and back up again. You openly admired him—the sheen of sweat over his tanned skin, the swell of his muscles as he held you tight, his glazed eyes following your every move. 

"You're beautiful," you murmured, carefully taking hold of the delicate chain around his neck before dipping forward to kiss him. His arms wrapped tighter around your form, holding you against him. He smirked into the kiss, the tiniest huff of laughter pouring over you. 

"Never been called beautiful before," he said between kisses, giving your ass a nice slap. You moaned at the light sting, grinding your clothed cunt over his slippery cock, desperate to be filled. Marc hissed, his hand pressing down on your lower back to encourage your grinding, the tip of his cock wet and leaking over his stomach. 

"Shit," he panted as you pressed your nose against his lovingly, "you wanna ride me, pretty girl?"

“Mhm.” You whimpered, feeling the pad of his thick finger press against your core, relishing in its moist heat before pulling the soaked fabric of your panties aside.

“Go ahead, baby.” 

Firmly planting a hand on his chest, you lined up his cock with your entrance before taking a breath and sinking slowly, swallowing him inch by inch.

“Mmmm, God,” you moaned, pausing as soon as you took him to the hilt, “fuuuuck, Marc.”

“My cock too much for you, sweetheart?” You could hear the smugness in his tone despite his panting. His hands flew to your hips, slowly raising them to feel your walls flutter against his length before bringing you back down gently, “You can take it, I know you can—yeah, that’s it, baby.”

You choked out a sob as you rocked up and down his thick cock, whimpering at the delicious stretch. Despite having had him more times than you could count, it still made you breathless at how well he stuffed you, how deep he could reach inside and make you see stars.

"Baby, I think you got it all wrong," Marc grunted, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you faster and faster.

"W-what?" You pushed Marc's damp hair away from his brow, watching how his hooded eyes were pinned to your face. 

"I'm not the beautiful one here. Lookit you, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking pretty when you cream all over my cock, fuuuck." He looked at you with so much adoration, like he couldn't believe you were his. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you continued to spear yourself on his length with your lip pressed between your teeth. His words went straight to your core, drowning him in your juices.

Within seconds Marc had you on your back, one of his hands pinning both your wrists above your head.

"So fucking beautiful." He said again, his heated gaze roaming over your body before he dipped down to give you a bruising kiss. His necklace swung in the duvet between your collarbones, the pendant barely skimming the surface of your skin. 

You loved being under him, loved the way he moved over you and manipulated your body. He was the musician and you the instrument. He played you sweetly, expert fingers trailing over your skin and down the valley of your breasts to tweak a pert nipple before continuing his journey in search of the treasure held within you. He quickly dragged down your panties—now completely soaked—pulling them down your legs with your help and flinging the flimsy thing somewhere across the room to be forgotten.

"Goddamn." He breathed, dragging his middle and ring fingers over your cunt, spreading your juices over his digits. You were a sopping mess, coating his fingers with every sigh and mewl that escaped you. "You're so fucking wet, baby—you're soaking the sheets." 

"Mhm," you moaned, feeling a bit vulnerable stretched out under him. Your thighs were spread so he could inspect you, and all you could see was his crown of curls between your legs, his breath fanning over your cunt until suddenly he spits on it. "Oh my God," you tossed your head back with a groan. Your toes flexed and your thighs shook as you fought to release your hands. You wanted to touch him, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips.

"Marc," you begged through sobs, though you weren't too sure what you were begging for exactly, "p-please." He smiled, taking pity on you, releasing you from his grip.

"Be a good girl and let me take care of you now, can you do that for me?" He took his cock in hand and rubbed the underside over your messy cunt, tapping it until you were begging for him to put it in.

"I'll be good," you choked, "just put it in me, please, in me, in me, in me—" you chanted until he silenced you with his lips, and in one fell swoop he entered you to the hilt unforgivingly. You’d scream if you could but Marc swallowed all your moans and squeals, silencing you as he moved above you gracefully.

Your hands flew to grip his arms as he practically folded you in half, reaching the deepest parts of you with ease. You ripped your lips away to let out a series of whimpers.

"I know, baby, I know, I got you, doing so good for me," Marc heaved, "so fucking tight." He pressed his chest flush against yours, burying his face in your neck to silence his moans. 

You were cockdrunk, mouth hanging open as he slammed into your sopping core with a precision that only he seemed to have. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the head of his dick kissing you where you needed it most.

Suddenly your body seized up and your pussy tightened as you came.

You swore you were on a different plane, a different galaxy even, floating away as pleasure rippled through you like an electrical current. You could barely hear him cooing at you, whispering pretty things in your ear as you gushed all over his cock.

"I-I love you," the confession slipped past your lips quicker than you could think it through, too high off your blissful orgasm. You meant it—of course, you meant it—but this wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, blissed out your mind with tears blurring your vision and drool running down your chin. 

It had lay heavy on your mind for a while now, ruminating, waiting for the right moment.

This hadn't been your intention.

You could barely react to your mistake, your mind now fuzzy with Marc's pretty whimpers.

"T-that's it pretty girl, that's it," he moaned, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, "you did so well for me, baby, so perfect. You're perfect." He babbled on as his thrusting became more sloppy and uncoordinated, chasing his own high.

"Come inside," you whined, barely finding your voice, "come inside me, Marc, please, I wanna feel you." One hand was buried in his hair while the other dragged down the expanse of his broad back, your nails marking his skin with angry red lines.

"Fuck," he moaned as he slammed into you one final time, releasing his thick spend inside.

He laid atop of you for a few moments, both of you struggling to catch your breath. Your limbs were a tangled, sweaty mess, useless for much else but laying there in a euphoric state.

Marc pressed a kiss over your collarbone before slowly holding himself up on shaky arms, gently removing his softening cock from inside you. His cum trickled out, a stream of white running down from your hole and straight into the sheets to join your juices. 

"You're a mess," he tutted quietly, immediately diving down to clean you up with his skillful mouth. Within minutes he had you coming again, his tongue lapping in and around you in search of every drop you had to offer until you yanked him away by the hair from the overstimulation.

"You're gonna kill me." You panted, reaching for him with shaky hands. He chuckled, pulling you in his arms as he smiled into your neck.

"Hope not," he muttered tiredly, holding you in the same position he had you in when he first arrived home,  "love you too much." 

"Hmm?" Your eyes lose their haziness from earlier, instantly alert and searching Marc's features for any signs of falseness in the statement. But you couldn't. His brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but honesty. You hoped he didn't feel forced to return the sentiment. You knew he cared for you a great deal, but that didn't mean he was necessarily ready to express it.

"Marc," you could feel your brows pull together in concern, "you don't have to—I didn't mean for you—" He silenced you with a kiss, long and sleepy, pouring everything he had with that one action.

"I love you," he said, clear as day, surging forward to kiss your brow. "I love you." He said again, kissing the tip of your nose. "I love you." A kiss on each cheek. "I love you." A kiss to your chin. "I love you." A kiss to your swollen lips before resting his head over yours. And that was that.

You choked, tears springing to your eyes but you said nothing more, just curled yourself into him as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. After a while, you felt your eyes grow heavy and you gave the clock one final glance over Marc's shoulder.

5:21 AM

It's okay, you thought, nothing wrong with calling out from work later that morning.

You fell asleep moments later to the sounds of Marc's sleepy whispers-

I love you, I love you, I love you—

#marc spector smut #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight smut

[tomorrcwz]

could you write we are never ever getting back together w/ rb seb or another dilf 🫶🏿

★ . . . 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐕𝟓

pairing: rb!sebastian vettel x ex!reader

in which you swear, you're never ever get back together with your ex sebastian, your first love, but it's harder than you thought when taking a trip down memory lane.

you were dead sent on your promise, you drunkly made on yesterday's night out with your girl friends at that small shabby looking bar around your street's corner — you were never ever ever go back to your ex, your stupidly handsome, cheeky, talented, rich boyfriend who has made a living out of his hobby, racing around the world, and who's blue eyes were deeper in it's colour than the ocean after a rainy day and the dirty blonde hair, which fell stunningly against his forehead in lose curls. those, you loved to comb your finger through them when you found yourselves on a sofa or bed, his head, comfortably resting on your lap, looking up to you with a cute smile, you had fallen in love with summers ago — back when you were green behind the ears, knowing absolutely nothing about love but thought otherwise.

no, sebastian vettel and you were over, forever and some more because you were a better person now, smarter than before. it should've ended after the first breakup that was caused by sebs hands — he said, he needed space, even though you haven't seen each other for a while 'cause of his hectic work schedule and you studying and working back home, resulting in you not attending every race on the calendar or more specifically said, all but two.

so the first break up happened, and oh well, you didn't really get his reasoning behind his words, but in a short span, you got together again after calling nights in a row, him halfway across the globe.

"I miss you badly, hase (bunny)", the german man sheepishly mumbled under his breath, face mushed against the pillow of his hotel room bed as he awaited your answer.

a low moan escaped your lips. you knew it wasn't going to work but you loved him too much, your first love.

"oh basti", you said, voice laced with longing. "i do, too, so much. when are you coming back home? we could meet up. . ."

on the other side of the call, you heard his laugh. "but should we?"

you also giggled slightly, realizing that the pair of you already went over the translucent barrier of broken up exes, strangers, friends, whatever you should be. "we definitely should. you love me, don't you?", you sweetly asked him, fumbling with the teddy bear he got you in monaco last year when you visited him at work and spent days afterwards with him in the heart of monte carlo, relaxing on the beach, shopping at the local shops and markets, and went on hikes. "because i love you."

silence greeted you for a second, and then another few, letting you wait in anticipation, wondering if he loved you or just wanted to have fun, have someone so he wouldn't get bored or—. "hase, there's no one i love like i love you, you know that, right? we complete and compliment each other so well", he answered. "I'd give you the world just to hug und kiss you right now."

you sign, a stupid grin growing on your lips. "then come back, sooner than later, yeah?"

"I wouldn't want to leave a lady waiting, hase."

and as he had said over and over again on the phone, he did come back for you, going as far as picking you up after work with a fancy looking car, you didn't want to guess the price of, dressed up in a dark button up and fitting jeans, sunglasses resting on his nose, hiding one of his most striking features.

you had hugged him in the car, no worry clinging in your brains as you pushed the dark glasses out of his face, interlocking lips hotly and climbing in his lap on the driver's seat, grinding down on him, making out like horny teenagers — which wasn't far off as you were just two young individuals, high on the feeling of being in love.

afterwards he drove you home to let you doll up for a date night which ended with him pushing you roughly into the sheets, rolling and play fighting, kissing and groping, moaning and whining. you felt right back into the relationship like you never had broken up in the first place. the only difference was the closeness; you took more breaks to visit him, travel the world alongside him and he in turn showed more interest towards your work and study, returning faster home to you.

but maybe that was the problem, the cause of another break up, this one.

you grew too fast close, too close, leaving no space — whenever he was home, you did everything and anything together, even if it was a one (wo)man task; there was unsolved pressure with the actions, causing you to fight more than beforehand and leaving you to passionately more or less solve a disaster by having sex. there were no character growth nor deep talk, you both rather went to your friends to talk about how dumb the newest problem in your relationship was — and his friends shared his views with yours, and they let you know about the information, resulting in more fights.

alas, in the end you broke up again just yesterday night, drunkly blocking his number to avoid the silent plea of a voice in your heart to call him, to beg him to take you back.

you'd miss him picking fights, you thinking you were always in the right and him escaping the house to listen some rock album in his old bmw. in addition to that you'd miss his cheeky comments, the loudness of his laughters, the blue hues of his magnificent eyes and the love he wore on his sleeve, showing it openly towards the world. you'd miss his warm touch and lips on your neck, the gently squeezing of your hands whenever you were out.

you'd miss your first love but sometimes it was for the better and cutting contact to distance would let you heal.

or so you thought because he had called you this morning, your head pounding, to tell you on your voice box that he still loved you — it left you feel exhausted and you strongly believed that you were never ever getting back together.

the teddy bear would acts as a reminder of firsts with a lover, him sitting prettily on sebs side of the bed.

˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗ rina speaks : loved the request, pls send more !!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic

[sungbeam]

007!ji changmin x f!reader

you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)

▷ word count. 11.1k

▷ based on. casino royale (2006)

a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!

YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.

It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.

After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.

It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—

A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.

“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.

You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”

Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”

You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.

The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.

But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”

You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.

Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.

The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”

“Ah, business. You know how it is.”

“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”

“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.

You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”

He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.

“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.

You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”

“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.

The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.

“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.

“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)

Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”

The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.

Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”

“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.

“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”

Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.

“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.

He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”

“Trotting the globe, I bet?”

“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”

You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”

He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”

An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”

“Significant others then,” he offered.

You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”

“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”

You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”

“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.

“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.

“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”

“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.

“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”

“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”

The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.

Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.

Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.

“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.

You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”

The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.

The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”

“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”

Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.

Assistant? As if.

For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.

The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”

(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)

Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”

“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”

With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.

“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”

“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”

His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”

As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.

He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”

“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.

“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”

“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”

Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.

You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”

The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”

He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.

Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.

At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.

You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.

You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”

He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”

You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”

“Got it.”

Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.

Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.

You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.

The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)

It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.

Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”

“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”

Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.

A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.

Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.

You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”

Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.

Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.

When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.

He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”

There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.

You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.

The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.

Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.

“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.

Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.

You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.

As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.

When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”

“Right away, sir.”

You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.

The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”

With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.

From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”

You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.

“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”

Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”

“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”

“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”

He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”

“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”

You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.

Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.

“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”

You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”

“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.

His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”

“You don't know then.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”

A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.

“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”

One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.

When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.

Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.

Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.

The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.

You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.

He was looking for his tell, you realized.

The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.

The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.

You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?

It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.

“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.

“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.

They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.

“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”

Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.

Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”

A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”

You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.

“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.

Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”

You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.

When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.

You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.

“I need more money.”

“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.

His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”

“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”

Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”

Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”

“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”

“Ji.”

Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.

You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.

Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”

“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”

Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.

Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.

Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”

“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”

What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.

Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.

After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.

You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.

“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.

You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.

“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.

Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.

You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.

You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”

“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.

Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”

“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.

You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.

“Safe,” he gasped to you.

“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.

You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.

You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.

“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.

As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.

But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.

“Fucking hell, that was a close—”

White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.

They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.

“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.

Relief was short-lived.

Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.

Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.

For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.

You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.

“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.

You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.

Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.

Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.

“Yn—”

“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.

You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—

With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.

“Not so fast.”

Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.

“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”

You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.

You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—

A shot rang out.

Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.

The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.

You nearly died just then.

With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.

There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.

The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.

Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.

Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.

It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.

In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.

You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.

And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.

Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.

Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.

Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”

His opponent swallowed.

The game resumed.

With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.

“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.

“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.

As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.

Everyone was all in.

“Reveal your cards, if you please.”

One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.

All that was left were Changmin's.

With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—

“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”

Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.

From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.

Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.

Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”

“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”

He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”

You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”

The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.

“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”

“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”

“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.

Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.

Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”

“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”

“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”

With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.

His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.

So loud, that you almost missed it.

You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?

There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.

“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”

A muffled response in return.

“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”

You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.

Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.

Changmin grabbed you and booked it.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.

You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”

Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.

A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.

Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.

You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.

With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.

“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.

He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”

You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.

You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.

The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.

“Yn, you better be fucking running.”

He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.

Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.

The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.

He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.

There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.

The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.

With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.

Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.

The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—

You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.

When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.

As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.

You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”

“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.

You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.

From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.

“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.

“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.

Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”

“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”

Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.

You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.

He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.

“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”

You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.

“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”

“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”

He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”

His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”

And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.

When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.

Was he dead?

“You're not dead.”

His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”

Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.

When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.

It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.

No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.

Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”

Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.

The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.

“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.

Hurt, you'd been so hurt.

You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”

Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.

“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”

“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…

He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.

You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”

For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.

“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”

The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.

“Changmin—”

“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”

You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”

We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.

“W.”

The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.

Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”

You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.

Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.

“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.

“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”

You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”

“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.

A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”

“Giddy?”

“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.

He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.

He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.

You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.

Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet

#🔎 — the 007 files #deoboyznet #kflixnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #changmin drabble #changmin oneshot #changmin angst #changmin scenarios #changmin imagines

[hypersonic04]

You Are In Love

This is the first of my Taylor-Swift-inspired Ross one shots! If anyone has a specific song in mind I am more than happy to write something based on it. I thought I'd start with one of my personal favourites. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,291

No warnings, just sickly sweet fluff.

The snow is light as it falls onto the brushed material of my coat, like little pieces of confetti. Hand in hand, our footsteps are slow as we stroll through the streets of New York. It's 2AM, around three hours since the boys finished their sell out show at Madison Square Garden. It's still, peaceful, but there's a buzz surrounding us, the kind that makes you smile uncontrollably for no specific reason.

"Can you believe it?" I whisper, looking up at him.

The expression on his face is something that I wish I could bottle forever and wear on a chain around my neck. His eyes sparkle like a boy on Christmas morning, reflecting the city lights either side of us, his lips perpetually curved upwards in the most gentle of smiles. There's a sense of disbelief in the way he looks.

"No, I can't." He shakes his head with an airy laugh, squeezing my hand extra tight for a second. "I just keep thinking about when we first started the band. I wish someone could have told us that we were going to end up selling out MSG."

I hum in response, hooking my arm through his and holding his fleece-covered bicep tightly. He presses a kiss to the top of my head as we carry on towards our hotel. There's the kind of silence that only comes with snow - muffled, like you're in a bubble, or a snow globe.

"Look," He points as we near the hotel. "They've turned them all on now."

I smile when I follow the direction he's pointing in, spotting the Christmas lights we'd spoken about earlier. They weren't turned on when we got to the hotel earlier that day, but now they were brighter and more colourful than ever.

Without another word, he guides me in the direction of the Christmas tree, coming to a halt in front of it.

"Ross," I raise my eyebrows at him with a smile, "It's nearly 3 o'clock."

"And?" He holds me at my waist with one arm, the other holding my hand, gently starting to sway.

There's no music, just the gentle fall of snow and each other, and somehow, it's enough. He spins us around and our childish laughter pierces through the bubble that seems to have formed around us.

"I'm so proud of you." I say quietly, biting down on my bottom lip as I grin. His eyes meet mine and take in every detail of my face.

"Thank you." He nods affirmatively and I shake my head at his inability to take a compliment.

"Seriously," I smile, "I'm really, really proud of you. My heart feels like it could burst."

"I hope not. You could do with getting that looked at."

"Ross, I'm trying to be earnest." I giggle at his teasing, his face breaking into a smile as he pulls me impossibly closer. Our faces are inches apart, his dark eyes soft, fixed on my smiling lips.

"I love you." He says, meeting my eyes. "I'm really glad you were there tonight."

"And I love you. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

We start to sway gently again, enjoying the peace of being alone after a day of being surrounded by people. It feels like the biggest comedown after a day of adrenaline and anticipation.

"We should go to bed." I say after a while, brushing my fingertips against the nape of his neck. He hums in response, before pressing his lips to mine. They're warm, despite being out in the cold, firm and gentle and... home.

We check back into our hotel, his hand in mine again like we might lose each other if we let go. It's quiet, and there's something so dystopian about it as we walk through the hallway.

"It feels like we're the only people in the world right now." I whisper as he slides our key card through the door handle.

"Wouldn't that be perfect, hm?" He smiles softly, opening the door for me and letting me through.

I laugh quietly as he collapses on the bed, sighing heavily. It's unbelievably late, both of us changing out of our clothes and Ross immediately getting into bed.

"I think this might be the most tired I've ever been." He calls to me from the bedroom as I take my make up off, stood in front of the mirror in only his t-shirt, my hair scraped up into a bun. I look tired, maybe the worst I've looked in a long time, but I'm the happiest. My face glows in a way that I'm not used to, the warm feeling in my stomach comforting.

He's got the covers pulled around him when I go back in, scrolling through his phone with a smile.

"What're you smiling at?" I grin as I make my way around the bed, plugging my phone into the charger and folding up some of our clothes. His eyes follow my every move as I do so.

"Just a text from my mum, she said she enjoyed the show. Our best one yet, apparently."

"I agree." I pull the covers back and get into bed beside him, the bed sheets cool on my bare legs but his warm, coarse fingertips soon warming me up, tracing them up and down my thigh as I snuggle into him.

I lie on my side and he turns to do the same, facing me.

"It doesn't feel real." He says quietly. The darkness of the room makes it difficult to make out his features, but the bars of moonlight peeking through the curtains cast shadows over his face, his eyes still as sparkly as ever. I would know those eyes out of a million.

"I know." I smile, drawing circles on the forearm he has around my waist now.

"I know I'll think about this for the rest of my life. I don't think I've ever been this happy."

I swallow heavily as he speaks, taking in the way his tired eyes crease when he smiles, the vibrations of his low voice felt throughout my body.

"But we could be in the middle of nowhere, and we could have performed to a crowd of three people, and I'd still feel this happy." he brushes a curl out of my face. "Because at the end of the day, I'd still be falling asleep with you, and waking up with you the next day."

I breathe deeply as I listen to him, wondering how I ever got so lucky.

"As long as I get to do that for the rest of my life, I'm happy."

"And you will, forever and ever." I hold his hand tightly under the duvet. "You never need to doubt that. We'll be telling our babies about tonight." He laughs at that, the rumble of his laughter making me grin.

"Come on, we need to sleep." I remind him. "I love you."

Leaning over, I press a kiss to his soft lips, feeling him sigh beneath me.

"And I love you."

I fall asleep in seconds, the adrenaline of the day taking it out of me. The feeling of the mattress shifting is what wakes me up around an hour later.

"Sorry, did I wake you up? Sorry, darlin'." He frets, wincing as I rub my eyes and check the alarm clock.

"No, it's okay. Are you okay?" I ask, meeting his gaze. He looks wide awake still, it's clear he hasn't slept a wink.

"I just..." he looks up at the ceiling for a second. "You're my best friend."

"Your best friend?"

"Yeah." He looks at me, sincerity scattered through every inch of his expression. "You're the love of my life, you know that, but... you're my best friend."

I smile at him, my eyes lingering over his every feature.

"You're my best friend, too."

#1975 band #adam hann #fanfic #george daniel #matty healy #ross macdonald #the 1975 #matty the 1975 #atpoaim #bfiafl #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald imagine

[eponymous-rose]

Had another RIDICULOUS fight in BG3 (major spoilers for Act 3!):

So there's my Tav, Shadowheart, Astarion and Karlach heading to the House of Grief. We get into a confrontation with Viconia DeVir, as you do, and suddenly there we are, somewhat underprepared (no elixirs, no dipped weapons), facing down an even 20 enemies on Tactician difficulty.

Okay. Okay. Shadowheart is isolated from the rest in the initiative order, so even though my fighter Tav and Karlach each whittle down one of the weaker enemies, the rest have ample time to bring Shadowheart down, again and again. I'm in a situation where I know that trying to keep her up is going to make things impossibly difficult, but I hate giving up the damage and healing (not to mention I really really want her to be conscious in case the game chucks me straight into a cutscene). I also don't want to Globe of Invulnerability this fight out of sheer cussedness.

Okay. Karlach and Astarion (tied at the top of the initiative order) are nearby, maybe they can get something set up? But oh, Shadowheart's gone down in a region of Darkness, so nothing can be thrown at her, including healing potions. I'm doing some complicated mental math with bonus actions and actions and trying to figure out how to get Shadowheart up, get some health into her, and get her out of the line of fire. My hail-Mary attempt to use Astarion to break concentration on the caster of Darkness fails, so I have to give up Shadowheart for dead (at least for now) and have Karlach leap over most of the enemies and flee up the stairs to at least force some of the enemies to waste their turn dashing up to follow her.

Shadowheart is immediately killed, and Astarion (exposed in his attempt to help Shadowheart) is unfortunately right behind her. Finger hovering over the "reload" button, I hesitate. Eighteen enemies remaining, just two very fighty girlfriends (Tav and Karlach) remaining alive. Wouldn't that be a cool story if it worked out?

Here we go. I have my Tav cast Haste on herself (she has it from some item or other - this version of Haste is 10 turns instead of the lesser amount you get with Potion of Speed, there's literally *no* downside!) and she starts wrecking shop. One turn: 3 dead. Another turn: another 3 dead. Meanwhile Karlach is whittling away at a few of the enemies up on the stairs, mostly just soaking up hits masterfully with the halved damage.

Uh-oh. Tav loses concentration on Haste (there's literally *one* downside!). From there, it's pretty quick - she's downed and killed within a turn, leaving Karlach alone at the top of the stairs. 10 enemies remain, most of them magic users with the ability to nullify healing, several of which are untouched with over 100 HP.

Uhhhhhh, okay. Let's try this. Karlach is wielding Nyrulna, which does more damage (as well as some extra damage in an AOE) if you throw it instead of using it in melee (it teleports back to her hand). She manages to throw it at a few of the enemies up close and pick off one, then jumps over one enemy, grabs another enemy, and throws that enemy at a third enemy. Just barbarian things, you know?

But things are starting to look rough. I have Karlach take a Potion of Speed at some point, mainly to do some running away from the enemies to force them to Dash on their turns, and I realize quickly that said Potion of Speed about to wear off, which means I will have one missed turn where I'm out of commission entirely and Karlach (who currently cannot heal herself due to a spell and will also lose her damage-halving Rage) will be dead.

Okay. Uh. What do I have in my inventory? Oh! Spell scrolls! Those might do some good, although I'll still be a sitting duck even after dealing some substantial damage. Or... wait, is that a Potion of Invisibility?

Karlach uses both of her actions to run to a side chamber, out of sight of the remaining ten enemies. She chugs that Potion of Invisibility.

The enemies all stare at each other. The enemies yell threats. The enemies do not come after her. Her next turn comes around, and she is immobilized by the lethargy at the end of the effects of the Potion of Speed, and her Rage drops. But she's still invisible! Another round of confused enemies yelling. And we're back!

The effect preventing her from healing is also gone, so I have her take a couple health potions over a couple more turns of invisibility. Now we're back to full HP, baby! Emboldened, but before going back to raging, she walks up to the Big Bad and uses a spell scroll to cast Disintegrate. 12% chance of killing her, 88% chance of 0 damage!

And... yeah, of course that didn't work. Not sure why I thought it would. Goodbye invisibility. Hello rage.

What ensues is a Yakety-Sax-worthy chase around the level, with Karlach sprinting a bit ahead, doubling back to throw the trident at a few enemies, then sprinting away. They're going to flank her, though, as she runs back towards the original staircase. Hey, there's a door here! She has juuuuust enough movement to pop inside. Hey, line-of-sight is a thing with most spells!

She closes the door behind her.

The enemies waste another turn just getting close enough to fling the door open, at which point Karlach has done some more healing and is ready for further violence. By this point more and more of the enemies have been dropping (including the Big Bad), and we're down to just five.

More kiting, more sprinting around, lots of jumps, strategic pushes, a few close calls, and Karlach is staring down the last 23 HP of her final enemy. Incredible. Amazing. A worthy feat.

.......wouldn't it be funny if I managed to rez all the other characters before finishing the fight?

Instead of dealing the finishing blow this poor Justiciar was doubtlessly expecting, Karlach cuts and runs back over to Shadowheart, pulling out a scroll of Revivify and bringing Shadowheart back as far from the remaining enemy as possible.

Shadowheart spawns in, baffled and at 1 HP. Shadowheart also is not currently in the initiative order. Shadowheart promptly heals herself to full and revivifies Tav, lying nearby, before both are pulled into the initiative order.

Karlach takes a hit from the remaining enemy, and then again when she pulls away to try to find Astarion. Yes, find Astarion. Our rogue has stealthed his dead body off the map. She fumbles around for a bit and finally just gets into melee with the last enemy and ends her turn. Amisra and Shadowheart are up, Amisra heals, and it takes a prod from @loquaciousquark for me to remember you can click on the character portraits along the side to target them directly. Shadowheart brings back Astarion and heals him!

Karlach, fire in her eyes, chases down the remaining Sharran and takes down the last little flicker of HP.

Final result: all 20 enemies killed, all 4 of my party members alive, conscious, and sitting at over half HP.

Exactly as planned.

#eponymous gaming tag #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #this is right up there with that act one fight i wrote up

[wrens-versus-the-world]

Intertwined With the Inhuman

Hehe :D Heres the first chapter!

Cross posted on wattpad under Dontjudgemepels

chapter one: and so it begins

(next chapter: 2)

as I looked at the letter for the fifth time today, I still couldn't believe it.

I, Y/n L/n, got a free ticket to japan and a free ticket back as well. I am so happy that I kept entering into those raffles!

I packed up my bags and prepared every thing that I may need while in japan. Another thing that I'm happy about is that, since I kept entering into the raffles I have quite a lot of yen, as well as a free hotel room and some free- non- expiring tickets to various events, which makes my life as a college student extremely easy, and my summer all the more fun!

I texted my group chat:

three best friends in a room:

depression (jerry), Cat lover(you), and smart one (cherry (cher for short))

Cat lover:

I'm so excited, but I'm also sad, since I won't see y'all and I cant afford to pay for the out of county wifi. D:

Smart one:

Well, that part sucks but japan is a safe country, and plus It'll be a good way to relax after the school year. those finals were rough

Depression:

thats for sure, those finals fucked me up, I didn't sleep for four days to study and then right after them I slept for two and a half days straight!

Smart one:

...

Jerry that's not safe.

anyways...

Y/n take lots of pictures, get us souvenirs and have fun! that's the best thing you can do okay! And if you ever feel unsafe just call the cops on a public phone, okay?

Cat lover:

see this is why you're my smart friend, And I'll try to keep that in mind... Anyways, I have a flight early in the morning, love y'all I'll try to take lots of pictures and get you gifts and food lol! ttyl

depression:

...

I thought i was your smart friend too...

Cat lover:

You are!!

depression:

yea sure, anyway, have fun loser, we'll miss you

smart one:

...

cat lover:

...

depression:

?

cat lover:

awww you'll miss me :D

*depression has logged off*

cat lover:

pft...

Smart one:

ignore him, he's right tho, we will indeed miss you! so you'd better have enough fun for all of us! love you, and get to bed

*Smart one has logged off*

I turned my phone off smiling to myself, my friends are so great!

Time skip: the next day (3: 30am)

I ran around the house making sure I had everything, seeing that I did, I called my uber and let them know to pick me up.

I walked out the door, and brought my suitcases out with me, and sat at the curb to wait.

while I waited I decided to play some honkai star rail, since I wouldn't be able to play it in japan (no wifi and all)...

the sound of a car pulling up brought be back to reality, and a girl with rich dark skip stepped out, "are you, Y/n, the cat lover?" she asked.

"yes, are you Trina...?" I asked unsure.

"yes! yes I am, okay hop in, let me help you with your bags." she beamed.

the ride to the airport was nice, the time flew by as I talked with trina, she was a really nice person. As we talked I found out that she also played star rail and we bonded over that, at the end of the ride we made sure to exchange ids (in game).

I made my way into the airport after saying goodbye to trina.

After checking in, checking my bags, and going through security I went to sit at my gate (for the flight).

Time skip: In japan

the voice of the flight attendant woke me up:

"Welcome to japan, and thanks for flying with our airlines!"

and she said that i looked out the window, to see the airport in japan, it was quite something (especially knowing i went across the globe to come here).

"we will now begin un-boarding."

Time skip: at the hotel:

the hotel was beautiful, the pictures did it no justice. The hotel was supposed to be a more modern twist on a traditional japanese design.

There was a closet, a bathroom and plenty of other things in the suite.

I unpacked some into the room, putting my clothes into the closet, my toiletries into the bathroom, and organizing everything else.

after I was settled in and had showered I looked at my To-Do list

1- go to a shrine

'seems simple enough' I thought to myself as I changed into a modest outfit, and grabbed the map, smoothly making my way out the door.

Saying goodbye to the staff as I left and letting them know that I'd be out. (Y/n speaking no japanese the staff thankfully speak english too)

the staff were even nice enough to point me in the direction of the shrine that I wanted to go to.

thanking them, I ran out the door, eager to get there! I made my way down the roads following their directions.

after a while, I found myself lost.

"that's okay I have my phone, Gps is good for this." I said to myself as I pulled my phone out.

"no wifi"

"...l-I forgot about that." I said as I read the error message that showed up as I tried to use the gps app.

as I was cursing my luck a blue haired male bumped into me causing me to drop my phone.

"Sorry miss, here let me get it for you" he said as he bent down and grabbed my phone. handing it to me when he stood back up.

"oh don't worry about it, thanks." I responded

'he's so nice'

I looked up at him to meet his eyes only to be met with a mask covering them.

"say, sir, I'm lost do you mind giving me directions to the shrine." I asked, inwardly hoping that I wasn't bothering him.

"Why of course." he said as he continued to give me the directions

"Thank you so much" I said as he finished, " I really owe you one-"

I was about to offer to buy him coffee but I was interrupted by the shout of a mad in a black coat and glasses, with black hair.

"Dottore! we're going to be late." he shouted

'oh'

"I'll let you get going, sorry to take up so much of your time, thanks again." I said to him as I made my way to the shrine, finding it much easier now that i had clearer directions.

Time skip: at the shrine

I got a fortune slip, and some pictures for my friends. and on the way to the shrine I happened to see a traditional dango stand... so I had to get some

it was very good, Jerry would be very jealous.

The sun started to set, so I finished up my time at the shrine, concluding it by ringing the bell three times and praying.

time skip: at the hotel

It was so fun, as I came back into the suite room I set down my shoes and got ready for a shower, where I washed up for bed.

after the shower I put some of the things I got for my friends into my empty suitcase, before getting into the bed.

Sighing contently, I turned to the lamp next to me and turned it off. trying to get comfortable in the bed (you're wearing a robe to sleep in btw).

as I let my eyes wonder I was met with some lifeless blue eyes.

a small 'ah' left my lips as I shot up from the covers.

the eyes just stayed there, neither of use made an attempt to move.

"wh- what do you want?" I questioned quietly, almost a whisper.

as I said that the man began to move towards me , soon the bed dipped as he crawled towards me. we were face to face, I began to lean away from him, my body leaning into the mattress as his towered over me and leaned in closer.

if we had been lovers the position would have been romantic, but I had never seen this man.

I soon had no where to lean now and he was awfully close to my face. I turned my head away from him, which in turn gave him access to my neck, to which he buried his nose into, and he seemed to be swelling me.

"you smell so good" the ginger haired male said in a deep voice as he attempted to bury his head further into my next, where my neck met my collar bone.

when i suddenly felt something wet on my neck i reflexively pushed him, causing our eyes to meet once more.

"you're quite the interesting human, I wonder." he said as I shook slightly

"who-"

"why do you smell like dottore?" the ginger growled

at the name of the man I'd seen earlier I relaxed some, although i'm not sure why.

"huh, are you perhaps in some sort of relationship with that man?" he asked his voice laced with venom as he mentioned him. "Your body relaxed when I said his name."

I wanted to reply, I just couldn't find my voice.

'who was this man?'

"childe I do suggest you don't go marking that which isn't yours." a deep voice interrupted.

the two of us turned our attention to a grey older man, who was illuminated by the moon light.

the man's above me, childe, obliged and got off of me, which allowed me to sit up and scoot away.

looking at the grey older man once more, I noticed that he had some sort of mask covering half of his face. and I also noticed his eye and how it seemed to glow.

I gazed back to childe and noticed how he looked like dog following its master's rules.

"I do apologize about his behavior, it is almost the full moon and he must not have been able to control himself." the older man said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but ultimately didnt know how to respond, " Uh, I suppose it should be okay... as long as it doesn't happen again..." I said, unsure the entire time.

suddenly I saw a flash of blue and heard a thud.

childe was on the ground four feet from the bed, i suddenly felt two arms wrapping themselves around me, I looked around and I couldn't tell who's arms they were.

childe was on the ground and the older man's was still standing.

the person behind me began to lean down to where my neck met my collar bone.

"it's okay, it's just me" Dottores voice whispered against my skin and he loosened his grip on my waist, allowing me to turn around to see him.

In my fear ridden state I clung to him, my arms wrapped around his neck, and in turn his arms tightened around my waist.

"I'm sorry" I whispered to him, so quietly, that he almost didn't catch it.

he rubbed his hand on the small of my back and glared at childe, and said, "I don't know why you're apologizing, but if anyone should apologize it should be me."

His sudden confession caused me to look up at him, only for him to lean down into my exposed neck (the robe was now slightly disheveled now thanks to childe) and bit down, causing me to gasp in surprise.

a deep sense of sleep soon took over me, as I began to hear dottore gulp , and my vision faded in and out, before faded to black. 

A/n:

>:D 

How is everyone liking it so far? 

also, im glad people here (tumblr) are enjoying this far more than the people on wattpad (which is a little surprising to me, but anyways.)

#childe x reader #genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #fatui harbingers #pantalone #fatui x reader #genshin pierro #childe is a little creepy in this part #childe tartaglia ajax #childe

[penwieldingdreamer]

Forgive me, friend

I kept the reader as vague as possible. While writing I imagined a plus size! female! reader but you can think up whatever you want.

If you're interested in the songs that inspire this, here's the Series Playlist

Happy reading! Let me know what you think.

Daniel never thought he'd miss someone like he does Y/N, but with the help of his fellow driver George Russell he finally gets his ass into gear and talks to her.

previous part

Warnings: smut under the cut, minors DNI, 18+, proceed at your own caution, fluff, some angst if you squint

Words: 2153

"Shit, that's it." His deep moans seemed to vibrate in the room as he entered them slowly, the slick tunnel gripping his cock tightly. He felt them shudder underneath him, a pleasured cry leaving their lips as he sheeted himself to the hilt.

The breeze coming in through the window cooling their hot skin, goose flesh raising all over their bodies. He leaned forward, his lips leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along their spine and his stubble tiny scratches in their wake. 

"Fuck, you were made for me, baby. Just right." His hands gripped their waist, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled them back towards him, his dick dragging along the warm, wet walls of their pussy, earning another moan at the sensation, their skin slapping together at the rhythmic pounding. He tried to make out their face but it was too dark to see, not even a silhouette was giving away who they were.

"Oh, yes!" They cried, a hand reaching back to hold onto his ass as his thrusts sped up, chasing that high. One arm around their shoulders brought them up to lean their back against his chest, slick with sweat.

"I fuckin' love you, baby. Don't ever leave me, ya?" 

The words had been only a whispered breath against his lover's neck, not sure they had understood what he said while their brain was trying to function with all the pleasure he was giving and pulling from them. His fingers reached down towards their breast, holding the fleshy globe in his hand, the other moving between their legs, playing with that bundle of pleasure. He had missed that feeling, the heaviness of the mound he came to love that one summer.  

"Danny," they whined, the fingers gripping his ass leaving their own marks before they moved up to join his larger hand, holding onto it tightly with the edge coming nearer and nearer. "Please, Danny." 

He was about to grant their wish, throwing them both off the cliff with one last, hard thrust but the beeping sound of his phone pulled him out of the fantasy.

Bleary eyed Daniel reached for the offending gadget, a groan leaving his lips as he sunk back into the pillows. Finally making out George's name on screen, the Aussie answered, his voice hoarse and out of breaths. 

"Finally, did I interrupt something on your end?" The Williams driver inquiried and he could already hear the broad smile through the phone without seeing it.

"What you want, Russ? It's too early." Danny rubbed along his stubbled cheek, thinking back to that dream that was more realistic than he wanted to admit.

Sighing from the other end of the line pulled him out of his thoughts, feeling the semi-hard on press into his thigh from the dream he had about you. Definitely not a good sign when he should be focused on the next race. "Let's get breakfast Danny Ric, we got to talk."

"Oh, sounds like you're breaking up with me, George." Daniel chuckled, sitting up on his bed, knowing the Brit wasn't going to leave him alone until they had the talk. 

"Shut up Ric and get ready."

"Right, I'll meet you downstairs." He was about to hang up when he heard a pounding on his hotel room door. "What the…were you outside all the time?"

The Williams driver hung up on his fellow F1 mate, giving the door one last pound. "Get into gear, Danny Ric, we gotta talk, mate."

Shaking his head, the Australian grabbed his sweats, pulling them over the black boxers he wore thanking whomever that he wouldn't have to explain even more to George than he already had to. He pulled on his merch sweater while pushing his feet into his Vans and trudged to the door. Upon opening it he was greeted by George with a knowing smirk.

"Everything good in there?" The younger driver asked, his voice slightly muffled by the mandatory mask they had to wear since the pandemic hit. "Sounded like you had company or just getting down and dirty with your lonesome."

Shaking his head, Daniel pushed his friend and fellow driver over. "Shut up, mate, I was alone. It's just"

"When are you going to talk to her? I forwarded the messages she sent when you had that crash in Austria."

"I know, I read them." You had been sorry for George that he wasn't able to finish the race but also worried about Danny after that crash, instantly shooting off one message after the other wanting to know if the Williams driver had heard anything. He was surprised that you had been this worried, but happy all the same that maybe there was some kind of chance Daniel would get with you again.

"When did the honey badger get scared? This is not like you, Dan." 

They entered the breakfast room, most of the other drivers already enjoying their morning meal. The younger ones joking around, drivers like Kimmi Räikkönen, Sebastian Vettel and Fernando Alonso talking about their lives outside the F1 circus.

"I'm not scared." Daniel insisted, plopping down in his seat.

Raising his brow, George sat down across from his friend and fellow driver. "Then why the hell aren't you answering…and don't tell me you don't have the time, I saw Michael on the way to your room. He said you were mopey, are you having doubts? Is it because of Heidi, I heard a rumor about you?"

"No, it's not Heidi. I'm not even encouraging it, so no. We're non-sexual friends at best, I've known her since I started at Red Bull with her dad since he was a former CEO there." Scratching along his Ching, the Aussie looked around at his fellow race mates. Most of their partners were there with them, even family but besides Y/N back in Australia he didn't have a serious partnership, maybe even relationship since his last girlfriend. "I just…what if she's just asking because you're friends now. Maybe Y/N doesn't even want to know but it's a nice thing to do?"

"So, you fear rejection? That it?"

Sighing, Daniel shook his head No before he thought better and nodded Yes. "Honestly, the way we were back in Australia it was…magic." He chuckled, thinking about the time they had spent at the beach or at her rented apartment when he got more food education than he bargained for. "I want that again, but I might fuck it up again."

"You won't know until you try." George shrugged and left the table to grab some breakfast from the buffet while his friend contemplated the conversation they had just now.

The Renault driver later found himself back at his drivers room after FP1, his phone in hand and staring out of the window. Michael had already left him for the afternoon, so they'd could get a break before the next practice session.

Taking a deep breath he went to his messages, looking for Y/N's number. He started the call, listening to the annoying dial tone before her voice sounded on the other side.

"Hey, it's Y/N."

He was ready to respond when he realized it was only her mailbox greeting. Chuckling to himself, Daniel waited for the beep before he took a deep breath and started the long monologue he thought up for the last twenty minutes.

"Uh, hey Y/N, it's Danny, Danny Ric. I was…I guess, I was only calling to apologize for how it ended last year. Uhm, I hope you're doing good and I just, I guess that I miss you. Miss talking to you and the fun we had together. Remember that time at the beach? You protested like crazy when I told you we'd go swimming. In the end you were the one dunking me all the time when I said we needed to get out of the water, wanting to play some more. Never thought I'd say that, but I think back then I was slowly"

"Danny? Hey, Danny?" Her voice, breathless and desperate as she called out to him.

"Y/N?"

He could hear her breathe out a soft sigh. "Oh Danny, it's so good to hear your voice. I thought you hated me after the last time we met."

"I couldn't hate you even if I tried." Daniel could already picture her own smile, the same one she gave him as they were sitting at the beach in Perth, watching the sky for shooting stars.

"Can we, with that fucking pandemic, do you think it's possible to meet up? I want to talk and clear everything up that needs to be aired."

"How does Silverstone sound? We're already there but there's an anniversary race so maybe if you're able to come we could spend it together." He suggested that race not just because it was the next one but because he felt giddy inside, not wanting to wait anymore when he was able to talk to her now.

Daniel could hear some rustling on the other end, a few choice words before finally he was answered with a small whoop. "I'll be there. I don't care what's going on right now, I'll come to the race."

"I'm definitely looking forward to it."

"Same Danny, same."

Nearly a week later found him back at the track, this time his broad smile reached his eyes again. Even though he missed the podium by one place in the British Grand Prix last Sunday, Daniel was feeling giddy again, his body pumping with energy. 

Y/N was already at the track, George had told him as much and he had seen her walking along the paddock with a female on the team's PR team, looking just as gorgeous as she had when he first saw her in Perth. She was again a guest of Williams, supporting his friend but also there to support him. The Aussie grabbed his phone, opening his messenger app. 

A grin spread over his face as he saw the picture the Williams driver sent him. He knew they were only friends and Russell was happy with his Carmen, but Daniel couldn’t help himself imagining what Y/N would look like dressed in his merch or the team’s clothes. 

What do you say about lunch with me? We could get something from the food trucks in the paddock.

Are you even allowed to eat greasy food on a race weekend? Her reply was just as snarky as usual. They had talked about the unfortunate ending of their summer the year earlier. Daniel had explained how he crashed his phone while riding his dirt bike with his friend Scotty and couldn’t fix it. Y/N apologized for how she acted when she saw him again and told him about her insecurities rearing its head when she didn’t hear from him.

Daniel changed into casual clothes, having a few more hours before the next free practice session when he heard the familiar Ping of his messenger app. She was waiting for him just at the end of the paddock, at the Italian food truck. He smiled, grabbing his cap, mask and wallet and left his trailer.

He made his way through the busy paddock, talking to fans, taking selfies and sometimes having to stop for an interview. But nothing was dampening his happy mood and everyone could see it. When Daniel finally reached the food truck, he saw her standing there, her mask over her mouth and nose but he could have made out her smile a mile away. Moving closer, Aussie laid his arm over her shoulder in a friendly gesture, his eyes shining with mirth.

“Fancy meeting you here Miss Y/N.”

Chuckling, she turned to him, lightly hitting his chest with the back of her hand. “The pleasure’s mine, Mister Hot Shot Driver.”

“Why thank you, Y/N, glad you’re stroking my ego. It took a bit of a hit.” The Renault driver smirked, smacking a wet kiss on her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, though. And that you’ve forgiven me for being an idiot.”

Looking up at him, she put her arm around his waist. “We talked it out and George helped, too. He made me come here, so you should thank him, too.”

“Ha, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” They laughed together, knowing that it was no joke. The Williams driver would definitely keep Daniel on his toes. And yet he thought back to the conversation they had the week before over breakfast, he didn’t even need to use his mating call - as George had called it - to get back in Y/N’s good graces. They had indeed talked it out and would be friends, seeing where it was going to end. Maybe one day soon he’d get a repeat of Australia the summer before, Daniel would definitely not say No to that.

next part

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #plus size!reader #female!reader #curvy!reader

[rastronomicals]

10:02 PM EDT April 8, 2024:

Syd Barrett - "Wouldn't You Miss Me (Dark Globe)" From the album Opel (October 17, 1988)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Leftovers

#Syd Barrett #Opel #Wouldn't You Miss Me (Dark Globe)

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts 2 and 9 with Stephen Strange x Beauty, please? It might be sweet seeing him comfort her after she had a really cold and exhausting day.

2. "Drink some of this tea, it will warm you up."

9. "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

Hurt/Comfort Stephen Strange x Beauty Lincoln (OFC)

Hey, Stephen - I'm so so sorry, but I'm gonna have to cancel on our plans tonight. I've had an incredibly rotten day at work and stuff, so I just want to curl up on my sofa & watch something mind numbing & lick my wounds a bit.🥺Even though I miss you like crazy, I just wouldn't be good company at all. We'll have to try again, hopefully soon. Love you. Always.💋💋 

Stephen gnawed on his lower lip as he read Beauty's text a third time. His schedule lately had been jampacked as supernatural activity across the globe has kicked into overdrive in the month leading up to Halloween. The rise in incursions from eldritch realms was to be expected at this time of year, but it was often complicated by amateur ghost hunters and wannabe practitioners of magic or voodoo either trying to fight the baddies on their own, or summon malevolent spirits to do their bidding. Meaning he and his fellow sorcerers had twice the work to do—protecting humanity from both mystical dangers and from the foolish antics of those who believed they had a calling to do the same.

He glanced over at the vase holding a dozen and a half long stem American Beauty roses in several shades of pink, which he'd meant to accompany his apologies for missing their last three date nights. Thinking that his girl must be in a very bad way to make tonight their fourth miss. Crap. Stephen decided at once he wasn't going to let that happen. As quickly as his scarred fingers would allow, he texted back. 'Understood. Missing you too, sweetheart. We can reschedule. You rest up & take it easy tonight. And please just let me know when you get home safely...so I don't need to worry so much.'

Beauty's reply came right away. 'Will do. Thanks for understanding, magic man. And for worrying about me.💗' Stephen had to smile fondly; a sweet sort of warmth always filled his chest when she called him that. And man, had he been missing that warmth! If he hadn't already decided to surprise her, that simple little phrase would've been enough to set his plan in motion. 

Beauty stood before her door, damp-haired (having forgotten her umbrella in her desk drawer) and with the lower half of her sweater-coat and her suede boots drenched from being splashed by a taxi that had pulled up to the curb as she been waiting to cross the street. At least the first time Stephen sees me in weeks won't be with me looking this bedraggled, she consoled herself. Although I'd rather warm up in his arms than in that old afghan thrown across my sofa top.

It's better this way anyway, she sighed forlornly, zipping off the text he'd asked her to send so that he'd know she'd gotten home in one piece. Stepping through her door, Beauty noted the room was candlelit and redolent with one of her favorite scents in the world. Gingerbread. This just had to be Stephen's work! Already her heart—weighed down by all the bad news she'd received at work this day—began to feel a bit lighter.

She dumped her attache and pocketbook on the floor and shrugged off her wet sweater, hanging it on one of the hooks beside her door. Inhaling deeply (he must've found her stash of gingerbread scented candles) Beauty called out his name.

Stephen came around the corner from the kitchen, wearing his dear, lop-sided grin and one of her frilly aprons over jeans—surely a sight he intended to amuse her. He had the sleeves of the dark blue silk shirt she'd recently given him (just because she'd known he'd look damn fine in it) rolled up, further indication he had something brewing in the kitchen. "Oh, Stephen...you didn't have to go to this trouble. I would've been fine just crashing on the couch."

"Nonsense," he insisted as he came to stand in front of her, smoothing one hand over her wet hair. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't do what I could to take care of you?" 

Speechless for the moment, Beauty lowered her gaze shyly—and to hide the fact that tears stood in her eyes. Stephen's voice, low and deep and rich with honest concern, continued, "I've lost track of all the times you've taken care of me at the end of a rough day. It's long past time I returned the favor." He pulled her into his ready arms.

Beauty nodded and laid her head upon his shoulder, and then the tears did come as he rocked her gently. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, baby. Just let me be here for you—and let me remind you of how much I love you..."

She had cried for a good ten minutes, clinging tightly to him, only aware that her hair and clothes and boots had dried completely in the interim (a subtle charm Stephen had worked for her comfort) until shegathered her wits and backed out of his arms. "Go get changed," he instructed her gently, "I laid your jammies and robe out on your bed, and then you can meet me back her for something to warm you on the insides, okay?"

Beauty nodded silently, kissing his cheek before following her good doctor's orders. When she returned to the living room, she discovered that Stephen had set a small tray on the coffee table, along with a vase of gorgeous roses. He motioned for her to take a seat.  "Drink some of this tea, it will warm you up."

Meekly, gratefully, she accepted the cup, sipping gingerly until she could tell it was the perfect temperature. "Now," Stephen told her, picking up the remote control, "I've got The Princess Bride cued up for your viewing pleasure, unless you prefer Practical Magic to begin with instead..."

"You remembered..."

"That we were watching that the first time I finally had the sense enough to kiss you?" Stephen cupped her cheek and leaned closer, "How could I not, sweetheart? That was the best first kiss of my life..."

"Don't tease me," she whispered.

"Simple truth, Beauty. And my life has been better and better every day since." Stephen took her free hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles, "I should probably tell you these things more often. I'm gonna try my damndest going forward, to do just that. And to take care of you as you deserve." He stood up, "And now supper. Your favorite comfort foods on the menu. Pizza Hut pepperoni pan pizza—and a mac'n'white cheddar cheese that I made from a box mix myself."

"Will there be dessert," she asked, gifting him her sweetest smile—the first of the evening.

"Ben & Jerry's reverse chocolate chunk--"

"But they don't make that anymore!"

"I know," he winked, "But don't ask a sorcerer to reveal all his secrets, honey. There needs to be at least a little mystery to keep the spice in a relationship."

Sated on pizza, mac'n'cheese, and her all-time favorite ice cream, Beauty was feeling a whole world better than before she had stepped through the door of her flat. As they watched the magical romance, she shared with Stephen the things that had made her day so awful. Budget cuts at the Library meant she's have to lay off at least one staff member and truncate the Library Page program she'd started two years earlier. She'd found out that one of her students in the 5-8yr old reading group was battling leukemia and had been sent to St. Jude's Hospital in the hopes of getting lifesaving treatment. And shortly before she had initially texted Stephen, her brother had called with the sad news that his wife had miscarried four months into her pregnancy. In Stephen's arms, she found the exact comfort she had been needing, but hadn't wanted to impose upon his valuable time to ask for. 

The heavy emotions of the day, coupled with the carb heavy meal Beauty had consumed, finally asserted themselves as bone deep exhaustion. Though she was doing her best to stay awake, Stephen could feel her drifting off. He nuzzled the top of her head and tightened his arm around her. "You wanna go to bed, honey? We can pick up the movie where we left off, on another night."

"Uh-huh," she yawned, snuggling even closer, "I'd rather stay here with you, Stephen. It's been ages since I've felt this warm and cozy. I...I don't want it to end."

Stephen hummed agreeably. "I know the feeling, baby. I've been missing this more than I even realized. I'm not gonna let us go this long apart again. We both deserve better. So for now," he sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head atop hers, "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

Secure in the care of the man she adored, Beauty slept more soundly than she had in months. In the morning, she awoke in her bed beside him, and it proved to be the beginning of a very beautiful day.

Feedback/Reblogs are incredibly meaningful. Please support content creators by doing us the honor. Thank you!

buy me a coffee?☕

@stewardofningishzida ~ thank you again for giving me a chance to write Beauty & her Stephen! It's been so damn long, and I've been missing them together.

#my writing #hurt/comfort prompt #fluff #doctor strange fan fiction #stephen strange fan fiction #Stephen Strange x Beauty Lincoln #BeautifullyStrange #stephen strange x ofc #doctor strange x OFC #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #Strangebatch #My Eternal Muse #Benedict Cumberbatch

[luciehercndale]

This is a Valentine's Day story, even though I never mention that it's VD, so you can completely think it's any other day of the year. I just wanted to post this today :)

Lucie craves ice cream in the middle of the night.

Rating: T Words: 1,700

Lucie opened her eyes to the dark room. She wasn’t sure of the time, but it must have been late, or at least later than the last time she had checked the grandfather clock on the mantel. She turned to the other side and sighed. 

“Lucie,” said her husband.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she wondered quietly.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Jesse muttered. “You’ve been tossing and turning ever since we retired for the night. Is everything alright?”

“I can’t sleep, but this you already know,” she replied. “And I’m fine, don’t you worry,” she searched for his hand under the sheet, and squeezed it. 

“Then what is it? Are you worried?”

Lucie grinned in the dark, even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m just famished.”

“Ah,” he replied in acknowledgement. It wasn’t the first time this happened, and it wouldn’t be the last for a while. “Do you crave something in particular?”

“Ice cream,” she confessed. “With chocolate and honey. And vanilla?”

“Yes?”

“No, wait. No vanilla. Chocolate and honey will do,” she decided, and without further ado, she got off the bed and put her slippers on. 

Jesse turned on the lamp on his side, and she heard the shuffling of the quilt behind her. “Wouldn't it be better if I got it for you?” he tilted his head to the side, “in bed?”

“I need to stretch my legs. I haven’t moved much this week,” she glared at him as she put on her nightgown.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he protested. “It was Brother Enoch’s advice.”

“Advice means that it’s my choice whether to follow it or not,” she shrugged. “Ah, my back hurts from sitting too long. And my legs too.”

“I know, but it’s for your own good,” he put her arm under his and they exited their room. “You said that you were exhausted and a little out of breath. You need to take it easy.”

“It’s awful,” she sighed. “Thank the angel I can still write in this condition! Though I’m slower and likely behind on my deadline.”

“The deadline is not important right now,” Jesse said. “Your health is.”

“And ice cream with chocolate and honey,” she added. “If there’s any left from dinner.”

“Ice cream definitely helps,” he giggled. “I asked Bridget to ward off your father from eating a second cup. She assured me she would guard the refrigerator if need be.”

“You are an angel,” she squeezed his arm. “And quite thoughtful. Am I starting to get predictable? I only asked for ice cream once. What if I wanted something that it’s hard to find in the winter season like plums?”

“If it ever comes to that, I’ll see what I can do.”

And Lucie believed him. 

Throughout the last eight months, she had the weirdest cravings. Some things she desired were easy to find in London. It was a big city, after all, with numerous markets. It was a crossroads for products from different parts of the globe. You could find just anything if you knew where to look – or that was what Jesse told her. 

They sat down at the kitchen table and Lucie was eager to find that Bridget had kept her promise. Not only had she left ice cream, she had left enough for two. 

“You should grab a spoon, Jesse,” she encouraged him. “Help yourself.”

“No, thanks,” he said. “You know that I can’t eat before bed because I get heartburn.”

“I thought the herbal tea you started drinking after dinner was helping, though,” she said. “At least that’s what you told me.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten,” he nodded and crossed his arms on his chest. 

She raised an eyebrow and finished the last of her ice cream. “Ah! This was delicious,” she looked upwards in awe. “Too bad you didn’t want it. You don’t know what you’ve missed.”

“Feeling better?”

“I’m –” she closed her eyes briefly, and suppressed a shudder as she felt the pressure under her stomach. “By the angel, this was intense.”

Jesse had already scooted closer to her, his hand pressed gently behind her back. “A contraction?” he asked calmly, but she saw his eyes widen in alert. 

“Alas. I’m fine,” she sighed, and touched her belly instinctively. “But now I need to run to the bathroom.”

Jesse couldn’t help but chuckle.

In the end, Jesse had to use the restroom as well, and Lucie told him she would try to sleep because exhaustion was finally getting to her. She assured him she didn’t need help walking back to their room, and he went about his business. 

She yawned on her way back, the only thing she wanted to see was her bed. She knew that eating ice cream would probably help her sleep. But then, once she entered her room and her glance fell on the writing machine on the desk, she remembered something important.

Her back still hurt, and she needed to sit down. Instead of sitting down on the mattress, though, she sat on the chair behind her desk, and started to type. 

“Lucie,” she heard a voice calling her, a light touch on her shoulders. “Lucie.”

She raised her head from the typewriter. “Uhm?”

“You fell asleep on the machine.”

“Did I?” wiping drool off her mouth. She had written a few sentences, the last one behind made only of g’s. “I hadn’t realized it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he whispered, and Lucie let him help her this time.

Lucie sat at her desk the following morning, with two pillows propped behind her aching back. She felt energized and had a goal in mind. She wasn’t sure she would make it, but she could try. 

Eating ice cream in the middle of the night had helped her get a good night’s sleep, at least. Once she settled into bed in a comforting position – lying on her side, a fluffy cushion under her arm – and her husband kissed her cheek, everything dulled out in a matter of minutes.

When she woke up, someone had already opened the curtains, and light shined through the high windows. She found the other side of the bed empty. Unlike her, who was forced to rest most of the days because her due date was approaching, Jesse had matters to attend to with her papa. 

Soon, Jesse himself would become a dad, and she would become a mom. Sometimes she had to see her big belly to remind herself that there was a little life growing inside of her. Or glance at her hand to see the Blackthorn family ring that Jesse had given to her few years prior. 

Her vision became blurry and she had to stop typing. 

“Lucie,” a sweet voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“I thought you were out,” she said, blinking her tears away.

“I was out,” he came closer and leaned on the side of the desk next to her. “Your father canceled this afternoon’s appointments, which means I don’t have any more work to do.”  

“He probably just wanted to spend the day with mam,” she chuckled. 

“Well, can you blame a man who wants to have lunch with his wife?”

“Not at all, no,” she grinned. “So, you want to have lunch with me, huh? I’m afraid I can’t go out, darling.”

“That’s why we are staying in. Would you do me the honor?” 

“Yes, but first –” she paused, and gave him a couple of pages. “This is for you.”

Jesse frowned at the sheets of paper. “Something new you’ve written?”

She nodded eagerly. “It doesn’t have an ending, but it’s intentional.”

“How so?”

“Read it and you’ll find out.”

“Now?”

“Not now, silly,” she chuckled. “Your pregnant wife is famished and she’s waiting for you to take her to lunch or she’s going to be really annoying and emotional.”

He rolled his eyes at her with a smile. “Come on, love.”

They ate in the drawing room, which Jesse, with Tessa’s help, turned into a dining room for the occasion. Bridget usually followed a schedule when it came to lunch and dinner, but today she made an exception for them. She prepared one of Lucie’s favorites for dessert, bread and butter pudding. Jesse also gifted her a box of chocolate and it made her happy.  

Afterward, they lounged on the couch by the fire. Lucie enjoyed the warmth of the room and Jesse’s company as he read the pages she gave him a few hours ago.  

“Thank you for today,” Lucie said suddenly. 

“Wait,” he demanded. “I still haven’t finished.”

Lucie put her hands on her stomach and waited, a small grin on her face. “Sure.”

“This story feels autobiographical,” he glanced at her. “Is it?”

She blushed. “It is. I just found myself thinking about the future, and it scared me. This new phase of my life makes me anxious. At the same time, I’m really excited about it.”

“It is normal, being scared,” he grinned. “We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but that’s how life works. It makes sense that the ending of this story is open. It isn’t done, and we are going to write the rest together. And we’ll have to face new challenges we haven’t experienced before. We may trip and fall, but no one is born a master. Making mistakes will be part of the journey and it will strengthen us.”

“You totally get it,” she nodded, feeling the tears ready to fall again. “That’s what I was aiming for, trying to give myself strength and not letting my fears get a hold on me.”

“Oh, Lucie,” he cupped her face. “I’m also scared, but I know we will support each other and we will make it.”

“Hearing you say it makes me feel better,” she said. “There’s something I want to happen in the story right now. To continue the story with a playful memory.” 

“Are you going to let me try one of the pralines I gave to you?”

“Later,” she said. “Can you kiss me? You know, in exchange for the chocolate.”

Jesse sighed. “I was going to kiss you anyway,” he muttered.

Lucie kissed him first. 

#tsc #tsc fanfiction #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #blackdale #ghostwriter #lucie and jesse #tweety.writes #the shadowhunter chronicles #the last hours #tlh

[where-pain-is-so-pretty]

December Project 10

- Everything you could have asked for

Pairing: Aleksi x Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: none

Word Count: 1160

Request:

"Fluffy request for Aleksi for the December project (if its still available)! Being wrapped up in his arms, with Rilla beside you, watching the snow gently fall during a storm on a cold, dark day"

Requester: anon

Note: I'm back at it! (Please, don't get used to it) I'll try my best to finish some more fics before my vacation but I can’t promise anything. The year coming to an end is stressing me out so much!

Anyways have some long overdue fluff with Aleksi and Rilla 💜

You had not seen Aleksi much in the past few months, so, him and you had decided to go on a short vacation before you would visit your families for the holidays. He had been on tour all around the globe with his boys for most of the year, and when they were not touring they were working in the studio. You supported him and his career, but sometimes you missed him terribly. Messages and (video)calls just were not enough sometimes, you needed him by your side falling asleep and waking up, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer whenever you tried to leave the bed early. You had missed having breakfast together before work or your late dinners when you came home from work and he from the studio. That's why you had suggested driving up north to stay at your family's cottage for a few days. Just the two of you and little Rilla.

It was still early in the morning when you climbed out of bed. Aleksi was already outside on a morning walk with Rilla; she had woken you up some minutes ago and Aleksi had volunteered to go. And you probably would have joined them, but the bed had felt way too warm and comfy this morning. But now that Aleksi was not beside you anymore, the bed felt a little empty.

Once you got dressed you went over to the small kitchen starting to prepare your breakfast. Freshly brewed coffee and self-made pancakes and some fruits. While you set the table for the two of you, you peeked out of the window. The sky was grey and tiny snowflakes twirled through the air. So, the weather app had lied once again about getting at least a few rays of sunshine.

You were about to place two cups on the table when you heard the door being opened and instantly rushed over to greet Aleksi and Rilla.

"We are back." They both were a little soaked, Aleksi's cheeks and nose pink from the cold. Rilla was dripping wet from the snow, but she looked very happy and proud once she had covered the legs of your sweatpants in mud and water. "Stop silly!" You laughed leaning down to pet her wet fur. Aleksi smiled at the two of you and got rid of his shoes and jacket.

"Let's get both of you a towel!" you suggested and Rilla barked in agreement as she followed you to the bathroom. You handed one to Aleksi, so he could dry off his hair, and then you bowed down to rub her dry.

"You made breakfast for us?" Aleksi noticed now that he had stepped into the small living room. "Yeah, your favourite!" You waved him a warm smile, letting go of Rilla, before you joined Aleksi at the table. Walking past him you could not resist the urge to ruffle through his messy black hair. He looked up at you with soft chuckle and locked his blue eyes with yours. You bend forward and placed a quick kiss on his forhead, then you sat down across from him.

"There wasn't supposed to be that much snow today!", Aleksi stated halfway through breakfast, pointing out of the window behind you. Turning your head you realized that the sky had gotten even darker and the snowflakes were bigger than some minutes ago. "Hm, maybe we should cancel our plans for today?!" You said nipping at your coffee, watching Aleksi over your cup. You two had planned to go on a little nature walk to the lake nearby, but with all the snow it wouldn't be a good idea to walk through the forest. "Yeah, probably the best! I just checked and they have forecast a snowstorm, nothing major but it's going to get pretty windy." He said looking up from his phone. Not exactly the weather the two you had hoped for and definitely not the weather to go out and explore nature.

After breakfast, Aleksi helped you with the dishes and added more wood to the oven. The cottage had heating, so, the fireplace was more for atmospherical propose, but you had always loved the light and smell it created. Everything looked more cosy illuminated in the flickering light of the fireplace. And now that you would spend a lazy day inside a little extra warmth seemed like a good idea.

While Aleksi began to gather blankets, snacks, and drinks in the living room, you went outside again, to quickly check on the car and to make everything stormproof.

When you stepped back inside and kicked off your boots, you saw that your boyfriend already had settled down on the couch. He smiled invitingly and opened his fluffy blanket for you to join him. You slipped your jacket off in one quick motion and threw yourself into his arms, shoving your cold hands under his shirt. "So warm and soft." you purred as you cuddled into him, your hands rubbing over the skin on his stomach, making his hairs stand up. Aleksi gasped under your cold touch but he did not push you off, instead, he turned his head to face you and pecked your lips. You pulled him closer, your hands wandering to his hips, deepening the kiss. He still tasted like coffee. A quiet whimper made you part from each other. You both turned around and saw Rilla looking up at the two of you with her best puppy eyes.

"Aww, look who's jealous!"; Aleksi giggled softly, pecking your cheek and causing another whimper from Rilla. He laughed as you both made room for her on the couch, Aleksi now spooning you, so Rilla could lie down beside you. "Come here, sweety!" you patted the spot in front of you and she happily wiggled her tail before hopping on the couch. She settled down next to you, her big brown eyes fixating you as she waited for you to pet her. And of course, you did, you let your fingers stroke through her fur until she dozed off. Aleksi nuzzled your hair, lowly humming as he took in the smell of them. With a satisfied sigh, you placed your hand on his and pressed your back further against his body.

His hair brushed against your neck as he placed a light kiss there. "Wanna watch a movie?" he asked from behind you and reached for the remote. "Later, I wanna watch the snow for a while." You whispered, taking the remote from his hands and gazing out the window. The wind had gotten stronger and made the snowflakes twirl through the air in every direction. You felt Aleksi slightly nod before he placed another soft kiss on your neck. This was perfect and everything you could have asked for. You wrapped up in Aleksi's warm embrace, sweet little Rilla curled up beside you, a cosy fire illuminating the room, as a snowstorm raged outside.

#blind channel rpf #blind channel x reader #aleksi kaunisvesi x reader #alex mattson #aleksi kaunisvesi #fluff #december project

[illusionaryneil]

For Edward: 1, 8, 9, 23, & 29

1. How would you best describe yourself? “I think I would consider myself to be quite the troublemaker! I think it is really funny to see others get annoyed with what I am capable of. I can be somewhat sneaky as well! I've been able to download and hide certain files and Nostalgia wouldn't find them until weeks later! There are still a few they haven't even found still! You shoulda seen the look on their face when I installed the You Are An Idiot trojan on the computer a few months ago, it was priceless hahaha!! Don't worry I got rid of it a few minutes later, but being able to cause such irritation to them is so comedic! Obviously they know I am just joking around.”

8. Tell us about the one thing you enjoy more than anything. “Besides messing with Nostalgia's ability to do stuff on the computer, I love being able to browse the internet and discover stuff! Have you seen how much is out there?? The creative expression of those across the globe, the endless access of media, the access to information, it is all so beautiful!! Sorta want to experiment with website building in the future. I greatly enjoy seeing so many people being able to just be themselves and share what they create and what they do!”

9. Name the one thing you hate the most. “When the computer is turned off. I just hate how dark it gets and the complete restriction of access to all of my abilities. Not a good time at all for anyone! I think I gave Nostalgia a fair amount of error messages warning against doing this at all though, so I should be fine. Hasn't happened in a long, LONG time at least, so I'm not too worried about it!”

23. What kind of music do you enjoy? “I enjoy a lot of music!! Most of the time I am forced to listen to whatever Nostalgia has on when they're using the computer. I don't really hate the music they listen to, but it's not my absolute favorite by any means. Whenever I do have the computer to myself though I really enjoy being able to listen to electronic and drum and bass music! Have you ever heard of Pilotredsky?? His music is amazing!! Cousin Joule, vancouver, and deadly mission are some of my favorites by him! Oh I also really enjoy Add N to (X)! On the Wires of Our Nerves is an album of all time in my eyes! Nostalgia always tries to argue that some other album called View-Monster or whatever is actually the best album of all time, but they're just wrong I think!!”

29. What is the greatest gift anyone could give you? "Hmmm…seeing that I can't really really receive physical gifts, I think the greatest gift someone could give to me is complete and total freedom from being in a computer. It's not that I dislike being in a computer cause I have access to all information that can be accessed through a computer and more!! I guess I still feel like I am missing something by being stuck in this form I guess!. If I were to think of a realistic gift though, I guess having someone download some movies and shows for me would be one of the greater ones! Gets really boring sitting around here whenever no one is around, plus Nostalgia isn't a huge fan of me downloading media through less legal means onto their computer haha!!”

#ask game #thank you so much for the ask this was a ton of fun!! #edward is really fun to write for so being able to branch out and share more about him through stuff like this is so lovely!! #also just in case nostalgia is the person who owns the computer that edward hangs out in!! #oc edward

[league-of-sam]

As Grim as the Reaper | Simon 'GHOST' Riley PREQUEL

Ghost x Reader, Graves x Reader

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Phillip Graves x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

As Grim as the Reaper: Masterlist

Walking through the halls of the huge base, your head hung low.

Lights were dimly lit, and the place was practically empty. It was way past hours now, but you'd chosen to stay, occupying your mind.

There was still no news on Alex - he was still missing in action, presumed dead, and the information weighed heavy on your heart. 

It felt like no one was doing a fucking thing to find him. You'd spoken to Farah countless times since it had happened, and she was hurting just as much as you.

You couldn't help but blame yourself a little. If you could have held on, if you didn't get injured when you did...if you were able to have continued the mission, maybe he wouldn't have had to sacrifice himself.

But it was no good to dwell on a bunch of fucking what if's. 

That's why you'd stayed late, trying to occupy your mind with the mounds of paperwork you had to go through (one thing no one told you about in this job).

You hadn't heard from John in days, but you knew he was busy in setting up his new task force; 141. Your brother, the captain of his own task force. The thought made you swell with pride. But he was late for your arranged call, and it made you worry.

Then there was Laswell, being sent here, there and everywhere to sort out a multitude of messes across the globe.

So you were alone, and on your birthday, no less.

You continued walking in the direction of the break room - footsteps almost silent on the tiled floor after taking your boots off some hours earlier -  desperate for a good cup of tea, when a light caught your attention, more specifically, the light to the room you were going to stop at on your way.

Sneaking up, you peered through the almost open door, finding Phillip Graves sat at his desk, hunched over a similar mound of papers.

One hand rested on the side of his head, propped up by his elbow, while the other scrawled words, knuckles white from the grip he held on the pen. 

The light was coming from the single desk lamp, angled to shine over him, illuminating his blonde hair and casting dark shadows over his features. The sight had you lick your lips a little - you'd be a fool to ever deny that the Commander of Shadow Company was attractive.

In all truth, he was bloody gorgeous, a classic southern gentleman.

You'd also be lying if you said his incessant flirting over the last year you'd spent in Special Ops hadn't been slowly (quickly) wearing you down, especially after the way he'd not left your side in the last months.

Smirking, you pushed the door wider, stepping into the room.

"Ya gonna kill me if I put this on your pile, Commander?" You spoke.

Graves looked up, almost agitated that someone had disturbed him, until he was met by your sweet voice and pretty face. Then, his shoulders relaxed, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"Do it and find out, princess." He challenged.

His response made you giggle, and so, placing the folder behind your back, you tiptoed over until you reached his side of the desk, and added it to his never-ending stack. 

After a moment, you released a dramatic breath, perching on the desk next to him, "Well, would ya look at that, I'm still alive!"

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, looking up at you. 

Now, you had a full view of what he was wearing; dark jeans held up by a leather belt with an obnoxiously large concho depicting a horned bull. Tucked in neatly was a grey cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with the first few buttons undone.

Such a cowboy.

"So you are." He smirked at you. "You know it's almost 10, right? The hell are y'still doin' here?"

"Same as you." You shrugged.

"See, now I know you're lyin' to me. Ain't no way you've got enough paperwork to keep you here as late as me. Talk to me."

He'd been there for you through it all the last couple of months. So much so, he'd gotten to know you a little too well. All of your little quirks, mannerisms, the way you carried yourself. He could read you like a book.

You cocked your head, drinking in his features, "First of all, I actually do have tonnes of paperwork. I'm applying for a promotion, so there."

"You are?"

"Yeah. Alex always said I'd be a good leader, thought maybe it was time to do it. For him."

"That's great, you'll make an incredible lieutenant."

"You think so?" You blushed, and he nodded, smiling softly at you.

"Absolutely...Lieutenant Reaper. S'fuckin' hot."

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head, "Shut up."

He chuckled, holding his hands up in mock defeat, before rubbing a finger over his lips, coming to rest on his chin, "That ain't what's bothering you, though, so what is?"

"Do you ever get lonely here?"

Your question shocked him; the last thing he expected you to admit to him was that you were lonely. 

Yeah, he knew how much losing Alex was hurting you, and despite his ill-feelings towards the guy, he knew you loved him, and so it pained him too. 

But...he never thought you'd feel like this. You were too beautiful, too sweet, too kind to feel lonely, and he was kicking himself for not doing enough to help you through that.

"Graves?" You spoke, leaning a little closer, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Uh- y-yeah...yeah. I guess it can be pretty lonely here sometimes, but I just go find one of my guys, they're usually up for hitting the bar for a few or using the foosball table in the break room."

"Right."

"That what's up?" He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, "You feelin' lonely?"

You nodded, almost ashamedly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty accustomed to it by now, after losing my parents when I was a kid. But sometimes it gets the best of me- fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be unloading this on you-"

Moving to leave, you were stopped, a hand softly gripping your wrist, pulling you back just that little bit closer.

"I don't mind. You don't gotta apologise to me, I asked, I wanna know."

"It's hard. I've only been here a little over a year. I miss Alex...I fucking refuse to believe he's dead. No way."

"You spoke to anyone about it?"

"Farah called last night...she's hurting. I know she loved him." You sighed, running a hand through your hair, pulling at the tangles, "And then John- I've not heard from him today."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not usually, we both understand that we can get busy with this work, but he never misses this day...never. If we're apart, he always calls, he always makes time."

"What's so special about today?"

You smiled a little, playing with the loose strings on the rope bracelet on your wrist; a simple black bracelet with a single charm of a bucket hat. It had been your present from John the year before.

"It's my birthday."

Graves looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say you were joking, but you didn't, and so his jaw dropped. You were lonely on your birthday?

Not on his fucking watch.

He stood up, and you jumped back a little, before he grabbed your hand and his wallet, dragging you to the door.

"Phillip, what the fuck are you doing?" You laughed, trying to resist.

"I'm doin' what's right. No way am I lettin' you feel lonely on your birthday! We're goin' t'get pizza."

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are."

"We have paper work to do!" You protested.

"That can wait! You're not going any longer without celebrating, not on my watch." 

"Phillip Graves!" You yelled, making him halt, "That form has to be complete by tomorrow, I have to do my paperwork!"

He thought for a moment, pursing his lips, before dropping your hand, "Stay here."

Graves didn't give you chance to answer before he was jogging down the hall, disappearing around the corner. You let out a confused giggle, but decided to stay right where he left you. Barely two minutes later, he reappeared, wheeling your chair in front of him, where your considerably smaller stack of paperwork rested.

"What are you doing?" You laughed.

He panted as he approached you, pushing past until he stopped the chair next to his own, "We're still gettin' pizza, but now, you don't gotta do your work alone. Ya can sit here with me, okay, darlin'?"

You bit your lip to suppress the giant smile that wanted to break through, crossing your arms over your chest. The gesture was incredibly sweet, and it made your cheeks burn pink.

"Okay, fine. You got me."

He took your hand once more, leading you to the break room, where he had you set up the pool table as he ordered a pizza for you to share.

There, you talked, laughed, played several games of pool as you waited on the pizza, until it arrived and you strolled back to his office.

The two of you sat close, the pizza being devoured quickly before you began on the paper work. Every now and then he'd nudge you playfully, and you'd laugh, shoving him back. Being around Phillip Graves was fucking easy, too easy.

And subtly, you edged your seat ever so slightly closer to him, until your knees were rubbing together under the desk.

Maybe this birthday wasn't so lonely after all.

You had to admit, it was nice not to have to do your paper work alone. Sitting beside Graves in his dimly lit office, pizza box half-heartedly discarded, was comforting.

It felt...right.

By now, you were the only ones left on the entire base, save for the security. It felt quiet and private, despite you being sat at work.

With a slam of your pen, you let out a gleeful yelp as you shot your hands into the air, signalling your triumph at yet another bet.

"And I beat you again, Commander."

"God damn it! I have no idea how you women write so fast, my hand's all crampin' up!" He said, massaging his palm.

You pouted mockingly, "I told you that you couldn't handle it, I kicked your arse, again."

Standing up, you moved over to the bin, tossing some of your scrapped papers in there.

"Excuse me?"

"Beat ya, just like I did at pool." You shrugged.

"You didn't fuckin' beat me!" He accused.

"Yeah, I did."

"No you didn't!"

"Oh, but I did!" You sang, a smug smile on your face. "Not my fault you turn everything into competition!"

You took his silence as defeat, and began revelling in yet another win, but a faint gasp left your mouth as you turned to find him directly behind you, the fright causing you to stumble. He reacted quicker than you did, grabbing hold of you before you could go toppling over.

You had him pressed against the file cabinets that lined the back wall of his office, leaning against his body slightly. Both your hands were firmly on his chest as you'd braced yourself for the fall that never came.

His breath fanned your face from how close you were, the tips of your noses practically touching.

"You fallin' f'me now?" He whispered with a smirk.

His tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip, preparing himself to return whatever snide remark he'd expected you to say, only for his actions to freeze when you whispered back.

"I think so."

His eyes widened, and he watched the blush creep onto your cheeks as you looked up at him, eyes big and doe-like. One of his hands was light on your hip, while the other raised, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes flicked to his lips, as his did the same, and you leaned closer.

Closer.

Almost there.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish #phillip graves #graves x reader #ghost x reader