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aetherraeys · 4 months ago

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visual learner

poly!marauder x inexperienced!reader ⊹ 5.1k

for this request!

cw ⟢ suggestive, first kisses, nervous!reader, tension, teasing, slightly domestic, newly established relationship, lots of kissing!

being a late-bloomer was never really an issue for you, until you're faced with figuring out how to go about kissing not just one boy, but three.

a/n: yes this is 5000 words of kissing and what? not proofread

If you were to think back, it honestly never bothered you much, you’d come to terms with it quite well—you were a late bloomer.

Sure, it meant that you didn’t have the exact same experiences as most of your peers when growing up, making those late nights in the dorms when the voices of all your friends danced around the room, feet kicking giddily as they shared which boy they’d gone to Hogsmead with that weekend. Or when they detailed the innocent lingering touches and fleeting eye contact they’d made with their crush—in person demonstrations and all. Of course, those nights were fun, playful girls nights, but it more listening than reenacting for you.

Even as you progressed further, graduating and starting univerisity, it didn’t bug you like your friends had assumed it would—’it’ being your lack of experience.

And it wasn’t that you were undesirable, far from it, opportunity isn’t an issue—you just weren’t in a rush. It also didn’t make you any more eager to speed things along after hearing countless disappointing and awkward recounts of your friends experiences.

Quite frankly, it just wasn’t the be-all and end-all of your youth, you had plenty of other things to worry about, plenty of other things that kept your mind comfortably occupied. And you were still young, there was still time for you to play catch-up, if and when you decided you wanted to.

The thing is, you were under the impression had a say in it in the first place—when in reality, the universe had other plans for you.

And those plans?

As it turned out, took form in the shape of three boys.

You’d thought they were a bit strange at orientation, their dynamic an interesting sight to say the least. But it wasn’t very long before you were sucked into their orbit, well and truly in the thick of it—completely out of your depth.

Because you’d yet to have a boyfriend, let alone three, but alas—you found yourself unable to deny them.

Falling into place with them relatively seemlessly, although the boys had been dating long before you came into the picture and have known each other longer, that wasn’t why you kept finding yourself picking at the skin around your nails, knawing at the flesh on the inside of your mouth, frequently lost in deep thought.

Granted, most of this was fairly new.

Welcomed, wanted, loved—you should be perfectly content right now, but there was small looming inkling of something in the back of your mind every time you saw them.

They were so comfortable together, in complete and almost constant harmony with each other—and it was a sight to behold, perfect and cozy as they lounged around Sirius’ thankfully large flat.

Both him and James lying on one end of the settee, tangled together in an obsure pile of limbs. Sirius had his hands underneath James’ shirt—baring the bottom of his stomach and pretty brown happy trail out in the open, fingers tracing soft and small patterns onto his skin. James’ hand carding and threading through his curls while mindlessly scrolling on his phone, occassional content hums leaving his mouth. Remus—he was sat on the floor resting his back against the sofa, pressed against James’ leg, head leaning on his knee, book in hand.

The epitome of domesticity.

All so very intune with each other, and then there was you.

Sat at the other end of the couch, just over an arms length away from them, scrunched into the corner covered in a blanket—trying to reach the word count for a project and failing miserably to focus on the screen in front of you.

It’s simple, you could go, scoot over and join them in their comfortable bliss, but it seemed just that bit too hard—where would you start?

Until now you never considered being inexperienced a bad thing, but you couldn’t help but wonder how if just a bit of knowhow would’ve make you less shy to join.

Navigating the mass of bodies should really be at the bottom of your to-do list, so taking a deep breath, you force your attention to the painstakingly boring work on your lap, once again starting to type. You’d built up a good rhythm, the words flowing easier as the time went by, and even though your legs had gone numb a while ago, it seemed like a good idea to ride the wave of concentration while you still had it.

So much so that you didn’t notice the shuffling sounds of movement going on a meer meter away. James had made his way up and off the couch, padding into the kitchen, switching on the radio upon entry—a telltale sign he’d about to start cooking.

The space James had left on couch was still hot from his residual heat when, on cue, Sirius reach his hand over to Remus’ shoulder, pouting dramatically, patting the still-warm space on the couch. “You’re not coming up?”

Remus, his neck tilted back slightly to look at Sirius, exhaled through his nose. He hesitated for half a second before shifting to stand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, pushing himself up.

As he moved past you, his fingertips brushed against your leg—so lightly, so fleetingly that you barely registered the touch, too engrossed in your project to notice. If you had noticed, you might’ve seen the way he glanced at you, how his gaze lingered for just a beat longer than necessary.

By the time he plopped down onto the couch, Sirius wasted no time crawling onto him, sprawling across his lap like a cat seeking warmth. Remus just huffed out a light chuckle as Sirius melted against him, pressing his face into his shoulder and humming contentedly. Instinctively, Remus’ hand came up to his hair, fingers tangling in soft curls, stroking without thought.

But even as he did, his eyes flickered back to you—quick, searching glances that went unnoticed. He can imagine it to be overwhelming, entering an already established relationship—still so many things unspoken, still so much to learn. And Remus ever the watcher, had noticed how your little habits—your tendencies to take up as little space as possible, shrinking slightly under the pressure of intimacy.

It’s not that you’re afraid of it—affection, intimacy—it was that you were just genuinely clueless, there’s not exactly a manual on how to do all; something that they already do so well, so intuitively between themselves.

It made you nervous is all, unable to imagine how awkward it would be if you’d done the wrong thing, put yourself in the wrong place—the room for mistakes seemed endless.

Still, Remus wasn’t going to push, or pry. Not until he was sure, sure that the way your fingers twitch by your side was with the desire to join, sure that your not so discrete hesitant glances were of a longing nature.

All his thoughts were about you, that was until Sirius distracted him in the best way he knew how.

Soft, light kisses pressed against his collarbone, trailing up to his neck, his jaw. His lips warm delicately working his way up until he was scattering pecks across Remus’ face—his nose, the tops of his freckled cheekbones, his temple—Remus was still slightly spying on you despite Sirius’ playful assault.

And, of course just moments before this your concentration had finally faltered, the smell of whatever James was cooking breaking your focus ever so slightly.

His eyes flicked toward where you sat—shoulders hunched ever so slightly forward, brows furrowed in that way they always did when you were deep in concentration. He wondered if you even realized the way you bit at your lip, the way your fingers twitched ever so slightly like they wanted to fidget, to reach out.

Sirius barely registered the amused hum from him before the next kiss landed, this time firmer against the corner of his mouth. Then another—this one lingering, coaxing, before Sirius finally pressed their lips together properly, letting it stretch just long enough for Remus to forget what he was doing.

You blinked, taking in the scene, your eyes widening slightly before flitting away, your fingers pausing over your keyboard. Lips pursing together slightly before your teeth peaked out and took hold of the corner of your mouth.

Sirius felt the way the corners of Remus’ lips spread into a smirk before he pulled away from him, just long enough to whispered to him, breath tickling the shell of his ear, “Watch her,”

Pulling them both onto their side, stealing small looks in your direction as he kissed Remus again—this time deeper, more obnoxious, more deliberate—sighs and hums of contentment bouncing between them.

Naturally, your eyes drifted to the source of the noise, body stilling as though unsure whether to look away or keep watching.

They found it quite cute, the way you eyes darted around the room frantically, trying hard to not stare despite being helplessly drawn to look at the cause of sounds. Teeth mercilessly taking refuge in your cheek, forcing your lips in to a pout that bordered bashful.

Curious thing, you were.

Satisfied with the effect, he exhaled a quiet laugh against Sirius’ lips and decided to stop tormenting you—for now. With a final squeeze to Sirius’ waist, Remus stood, making his way over towering tall over you and, without hesitation, shut your laptop with a soft click.

Whipping your head to find him, brows arched up, a light smirk twitching at his lips as he looked down at you—gaze so intense you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at whatever was causing the sofa to dip beside you.

Only breaking when you felt his hot breath skim along the edge of your earlobe—spine immediately becoming taut, skin prickling down the back of your neck. Sirius was so close and you didn’t need to look at him to know he had a mischievous smirk playing on his lips—“I think you’ve worked hard enough, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from them both, of the weight of their gazes—teasing, expectant, knowing. You weren’t completely unfamilar with their touch, James loved to press obnoxious wet kisses on your cheeks. Remus was also very well versed in the language of forehead kisses and hand holding—Sirius had even gone as far to occassionally sneak dangerous little pecks onto the thin skin behind your ear when you cuddled.

Alert, and flickering panicked looks between them, the tips of your ears felt hot as you stammered out the words, “uh—everything okay?”

Your hands were in your lap clasped together tightly—thumb unconsciously picking at the skin around your nails when Sirius came impossibly closer to you, a small huffed chuckle leaving as he neared. Fingertips brushing a few stray hairs behind your ears, voice low and smooth— “Mmmm, everything’s fine—Moony’s just got a question,”

He could feel the slight shudder that ran through your body, gaze shifting to Remus, hands stuffed into his pockets, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he leaned down over you—very clearly entertained by your reactions. His eyes darted around your face, scanning, observing your wide-eyed expression, how you sunk into the soft cushion, trying to put space between you.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a crooked smile, tilting his head as he asked;

“Would you like one?”

The warmth of Sirius’ fingertips trailing light ghostly touches down the side of your neck was so distracting, making your mouth painfully dry, air catching in your throat as your opened and closed your lips repeatedly. Wracking your brain for a response, words, anything—but it felt annoyingly blank, sucking in a shaky breath, your words came out pinched and meek—breathy on the exhale.

Sirius snickered under his breath, barely containing his delight at your reaction, and Remus exhaled a soft chuckle of his own.

“One what?”

Even if you tried to push yourself any further into the couch, practically willing yourself to become one with the fabric—anything to escape this awful flipping feeling at the pits of your stomach—you couldn’t. And it only got worse when Remus leaned in further, precariously close, the tip of his nose just barely grazing the skin of your cheekbones, Sirius could see the way your shoulders inched up and up, closer to your ears as your virtually shrunk into yourself.

Remus’ voice was rough and teasing, making the heat that resided in the tips of your ear spread invasively under the skin of your cheeks. “I saw you—it’s okay to be curious, my love, ” He took his hands from his pockets and brought one to the arm of the sofa, the other resting on the ball of Sirius’ knee, that was flush against yours. He leaned back as he continued, capturing your gaze, “You don’t have to be so shy about it.”

His words were low, steady, laced with that quiet knowing that made your stomach tighten. He was close—too close, and Sirius wasn’t any better, his fingertips still ghosting along your jaw, trailing up toward your ear, his shoulders brushing against yours.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe properly, heat blooming in your chest—radiating outwards, the close proximity, it all just had your head feeling rattled. “I—” You started, but the words immediately died in your throat, and Sirius huffed dramatically, shifting even nearer.

“C’mon, love, we won’t bite.” His breath was warm against your skin. “Unless you want us to.”

Your inhale was sharp, and Sirius grinned, practically preening at your reaction.

But Remus—Remus remained still, observing, reading for any flicker of hesitation, every small tell you didn’t even realize you were giving away. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way your hands curled into your lap, the way your breath hitched when Sirius’ fingers traced your pulse.

And then, his voice dropped even lower, softer—”So would you like one?” The back of his fingers came lightly over the curve of your jaw, lips brushing the bottom of your earlobes when he finally whispered,

“A kiss.”

Your stomach flipped violently, breath hitching and as a light shudder passed over your body—Remus must have noticed, because he smiled—soft and knowing, tilting his head slightly, giving you space, waiting. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding—just offering.

And somehow, that was even more overwhelming.

Lips parted slightly, words failing you completely, barely forcing out the start of a sentence, “B—” When his voice rang just behind you, dripping with amusement; “Have I walked into an ambush?” You hadn’t even noticed James entering the room.

But that was exactly how you felt, ambushed—trapped like a lamb in the midst of a group of lions, chest skipping out of its rhythmic rise and fall when James’ hand slid gently over your shoulder, your lips were still parted, holding the remains of your unfinished sentence. Sirius spoke, turning his head to look at James, smirk taking on a wolfish quality—”Just seeing if our girl would like a kiss,” As the last word left his lips, he was facing you again, head tilting to fit into the dip of your neck, lips almost gliding over the skin.

No where to run, the combined weight of their gaze made you awfully aware of your racing heartbeat, sounding loud between your ears, riccocheting off the empty space in your brain—only able to blink-up at Remus, mouth agape.

Sirius made an amused little noise in the back of his throat. “She’s thinking too hard again,” he murmured, his fingertips moving from their place on your collarbone, to travel down the curve of your skin—fighting every urge in your body to not arch away from his touch. His palm stopped and rest in the small of your back, hot and anchoring.

“Darling, it’s a yes or no question.” The words were still soft, still pressure-less, leaving you all the room in the world to stop this.

Your fingers twitched slightly, curling into the fabric of your sweater, throat suddenly unbearably dry—still completely entrapped under Remus’ watchful eye.

“I’ve never—” You swallowed. “I don’t know how.”

It was more breath than words, was barely a whisper, almost inaudible, but they all heard it.

Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose, amused, James’ palm soothed comfortingly over you shoulder, while Remus’ smile softened further, something impossibly tender flashing across his face.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, voice quiet, patient. His hand lifted slightly, fingers hovering near your cheek but barely touching, waiting for any sign, any indication from you. “I could show you.”

Sirius hummed lightly beside you, clearly pleased with where this was going. “Mmm, yeah, Moons is an excellent teacher.”

Your gaze flickered between them, caught between the heat of Sirius’ mischief and the warmth of Remus’ patience, the quiet promise in his eyes.

Your heart was pounding.

Opening your mouth, but nothing came out, your throat tight—only able to nod shyly. Sirius took pity on you, grinning as he shifted back and patted his lap invitingly.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he purred. “Front row seat for the lesson.”

You blinked at him, completely dumbfounded,

“What?”

Remus, ever patient, gave Sirius a look, but there was amusement there, too. “We’ll give you a demonstration.”

Sirius patted his thigh again, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, love, don’t be shy.”

You hesitated for a long moment, but Sirius just raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly, his fingers tapping against his leg. James had already made his way around the sofa, and looked just entirely too pleased at the idea.

Eventually, you sighed, heat creeping along the back of your neck as you shuffled over, hesitantly perching yourself on Sirius’ lap. His arms immediately wound around your waist, back flush against his chest, keeping you snug against him as he leaned in, breath tickling your ear.

Remus huffed out a quiet laugh, already reaching for James' collar, tugging him forward until their lips met in an easy, practiced rhythm. Practically melting into each others touch.

It was undemanding, natural. And unconsciously, your eyes darted away from the scene, flickering down onto your hands that still endlessly fiddled with the hem of your sleeve. But, against your luck, Sirius caught you.

“No no no, keep looking,” His voice was gentle, no traces of reprimand, he could feel stiff you were—breath shallow, shoulders tense. Pulling you in further against him, hand moving from your waist to settle on the round of your thighs—thumb stroking in a soothing pattern. Along with the way his voice rumbled of his voice in chest against your back and the velvety hum of his words, “Relax, love,” purged some of the nervous tension that had settled in your bones away.

It wasn’t just that they were kissing—it was how. The effortless way James’ hands slid into Remus’ hair, the way Remus exhaled softly into it, melting just a bit. The way their noses brushed, the way Remus tilted his head slightly to deepen it, slow and unhurried, languid in a way that sent something strange and warm curling in your stomach.

It was so fluid, second-nature.

James made a quiet noise in the back of his throat when Remus bit at his bottom lip, and Sirius hummed behind you.

“See that?” he murmured against your ear. “Slow, but firm. It’s not a race, love. It’s about feeling it, letting it happen.”

Your breath was shallow, completely entranced, and James—who had definitely caught the way your fingers curled against Sirius’ hands your thighs—broke the kiss just long enough to grin at you.

“You taking notes, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Sirius chuckled, chin propped on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I think she’s getting the idea.”

Your entire body was on fire.

And he could feel it, the heat radiating off your body against his, trying not fidget in his lap, and he didn’t help your case. Opting to torture you more with his low teasing cadance and lips dangerously close to your pulse, whispering; “Think you’re ready to try?”

You swallowed thickly, pulse hammering in your throat. Ready to try? That was the question, wasn’t it?

Because in theory, you knew what kissing was supposed to be. You’d seen it a thousand times—in movies, in books, in passing glances stolen between strangers. But knowing wasn’t feeling, and feeling was something else entirely.

Especially when three sets of eyes were locked onto you, waiting.

You wet your lips unconsciously, and Sirius made a pleased little sound behind you, his hands settling more firmly, squeezing lightly against your thighs. “That’s a good start,” he murmured. “Mmm, maybe she’s a natural, Moons.”

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head slightly to catch Remus’ expression. He was still watching you, his gaze steady, unreadable. You searched for impatience there, for amusement, for any sign of frustration—but there was none. Only quiet, open curiosity, waiting for you to make the call.

Inhaling deeply though your nose, a light wave of hesitance flickering through you.

“I…” You trailed off, glancing over at James, who had since leaned back against the couch, all easy confidence, his head tilting slightly to the side. “With…who?”

The second the words left your mouth, Sirius laughed, delighted.

“Oh, love,” he purred, adjusting his wide legged position even wider, causing your hips to fall further into his middle—sinking into his touch. “That’s the best part.”

James smirked at that, hazel eyes flashing. “Mmm, guess it’s only fair we let you pick,” he mused. “We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Liar.

You didn’t believe that for a second, not when Sirius was grinning like the cat that got the cream, and certainly not when Remus had the nerve to sit beside James, looking at you like he was already in your head, reading your thoughts before you could even think them.

Your heart was racing so fast you were surprised they couldn’t hear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to—you did. But what if you messed it up? What if you got the angle wrong, or forgot to breathe, or—

“Darling.” Remus’ voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, quiet but firm. You snapped your gaze to him automatically, fingers twitching, picking at the jean fabric of by Sirius’ hands. “There’s nothing to get wrong.”

You barely had time to react before he leaned in—slow, deliberate—just close enough that the warmth of him made your breath stutter.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

You hesitated, but after a beat, you did.

The next thing you felt was the feather-light brush of his lips against your cheek—not quite a kiss, not really, just the barest ghost of contact. Lips parting, letting a shallow hitching breath pass.

“There,” he murmured. “Easy, isn’t it?”

His lips brushed another kiss over the curve of your jaw, still unbearably gentle, giving you time, giving you space. You inhale shakily, body still burning against Sirius, Remus just hummed, trailing the kisses just slightly lower. There was barely any time for you to respond before he finally—finally—pressed his lips against yours

It was so much softer than you’d expected, warm and welcoming. Not demanding, not urgent—just there, patient, waiting for you to catch up.

Your stomach flipped, and Sirius hummed his approval against your ear, his hands rubbing absent, slow circles into your sides. James, let out a quiet exhale, watching intently from beside Remus—hands twitching almost in efforts to stay put.

Trying your best to stay out of your head, focus on the kiss but not too hard, pace yourself, enjoy the moment—your hands curling into themselves at your sides. But when Remus hummed, a small pleased sound into the kiss, the tension building in you slipped away. Further and further into the back of your mind.

He kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world, like he wanted to be kissing you, and your brain was getting more mushy as the contact continued. Your hands twitched again, and this time, you actually moved, leaning slightly into the kiss—one of them hesitantly lifting to rest against the front of his shirt.

Sirius, sensing the change immediately, grinned, chin still propped on your shoulder.

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

James hummed in agreement, eyes dark with interest. “Looks like she’s a fast learner.”

Remus, still entirely too composed, simply smiled into the kiss, his hands finally moving to cradle your jaw, holding you there as he deepened it just slightly.

By the time he pulled back, you were breathless, cheeks flushed—lips wet and reddened.

James, evidently unable to contain himself, turned your chin slightly toward him, eyes practically shining with mischief.

“My turn.”

His lips were on yours, and if Remus was patient and careful, James was the opposite.

Kissing you like he was playing—feverish and teasing, like he knew exactly how new it was for you, how you were still unsure, and he was more than content in exploring.

Initially he let you take the lead, barely pressing into you, lips moving slowly, teasingly, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your jaw as if coaxing you forward. But as he leaned further into you, hands planting themselves firmly on your thighs—parting his lips against yours.

You were vaguely aware of the sound of Sirius humming in approval somewhere behind you, his fingers tightening just slightly on your waist as James’ tongue flicked playfully against your bottom lip. Your breath caught in your throat, and he grinned against your mouth, clearly pleased with your reaction.

James littered more kisses onto your skin, starting at the corner of your mouth, down your jaw, bringing the exposed skin of your collarbone gently between his lips—nipping and sucking softly. Earning him a breathy whimper, exhaling “Jamie,” as you craned your neck into him more, hands jumping to find purchase on his arms.

Remus’ hand inched up James’ spine, almost as a reminder that said, don’t be greedy. Withdrawing, he allowed the other a better look at your expression—half lidded, satified hums leaving your still kiss-flushed lips, unbareably pretty.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle behind you, a low “Damn,” passing into the air, breath skimming over the back of your neck.

“Ready for round two?”

You hadn’t had time to come back down into the room fully before Sirius’ hands came down to your hips—the words barely proccessing in your mind as you spun on his lap. Positioning you so your legs split across his thighs. His hands settled on your waist, warm and steady, fingers splayed just under the hem of your shirt, grounding you.

Sirius was still watching you, that signature smirk playing at his lips, but there was something softer in his expression now—something reassuring, like he was making sure you weren’t too overwhelmed.

But how could you not be?

You could still feel the lingering warmth of Remus’ kiss on your lips, still taste James’ breath against yours. And now planted on Sirius’ lap, he was moving closer, eyes flicking over your face, searching for hesitation.

You didn’t even realize you’d clenched your hands into nervous fists until Sirius made a small noise of amusement and pried one open, lacing his fingers through yours. “Breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. “You’re in good hands.”

Unlike Remus’ patience or James’ teasing, Sirius kissed you like he was yearning.

its like a torch had been lit, your body was set even further ablaze when Sirius pressed his lips firmly against yours, immediately tightening his hold on your waist. Pads of his fingers grasping almost desperately onto the flesh trying to pull you closer than you already were—shifting his hips upwards into you. Your voice trembled in your throat, failing to make it to your lips as muffled moan threatened to leave you. Hands coming up to his neck, fingers threading and tugging at the hair at the base of his neck.

“Fucking hell, you two,” sounded from beside you, but it felt so far away, dulled by the thumping echo of your pulse in your ears and the soft hums and mewls leaving the both of you.

He kissed like he meant it, like he wanted you to feel all of it, tongue just barely teasing against the seam of your lips, making you gasp out a whine. He took full advantage of the sound, his hands squeezing at your curve of your hips before he pulled back just enough to grin against your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

The words sent a sharp jolt of heat down your spine, it had you arching into him against you will, rocking involuntarily into him, and Sirius let out a delighted little laugh. Head falling into the crook of his neck, slightly embarrassed by the reactions he so easily compelled from you.

“Ohh, Pads,” James drawled, chin resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his ear. “You’re gonna break her.”

Sirius hummed, utterly unbothered. “Dunno, Jamie—” his lips ghosted against your neck again, just barely touching, a tease, “—she seems to be holding up just fine.”

You weren’t.

Your thoughts were scrambled, body thrumming, your hands clutching onto Sirius as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth.

And when you brought your head out of its hiding spot, Remus’ could barely contain the laugh that bubbled in his chest, musing with a tilting his head. “Mmm, think she likes it.” Your parted lips, chest heaving trying to catch your breath—pupils blown and hazy expression Remus was more than convinced you liked it.

Sirius, still curled up comfortably beneath you, pressed a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. “Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was teasing, syrupy sweet, lips dragging up to your jaw, inching up to the corners of your mouth—almost kisses—then trailing back away. And you could only melt into them, breathless and dizzy and completely, utterly lost in it all.

“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”

this is my first time writing poly! so pls be kind x

part 2 - hands-on lesson!

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shy-writer-999 · 10 days ago

Text

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 / 𝑀𝑒𝓈𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒶

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: You work in the palace bathhouse. One day, you receive an unexpected promotion. You discover that you’re a little too good at your new job, and a little too close to nobility for comfort. Will you be able to avoid getting noticed by the Emperor and his three sons, Ace, Luffy, and Sabo? Or will you bite off a little bit more than you can chew? ~4k words.

Part 1 of (?) - I anticipate this will be 5 parts+ Pairing: Luffy x reader (and more... but I won't spoil it) CW: SFW (for now). This series will have angst, scandal, jealousy, unhealthy obsession, lots of explicit content, and possessive behavior. I think this is better than the Zoro series, so strap in... O_O

✦ Chapter 1: Prelude to a sick heart ✦

The prince had never really thought about women before. What it would feel like to be touched by one. Their soft skin. Alluring eyes. Curves. Lips. Scent.

But that changed one day.

---

Your job was a sweet one—you worked on what you referred to as the pseudo-medical waitstaff for the palace. Pseudo because among your colleagues were apothecaries, masseuses, doctors, medicine women, estheticians of sorts, poison tasters… the list goes on. The department’s official name was “Office of Care and Medicinal Practices for the Assurance of Health of the Royal Family.” The King was a fan of unnecessarily long and official sounding names for things. So, pseudo-medical waitstaff it was.

As much as you worked in the palace, you had only seen glimpses of the royal family a few times. Most of the people you were in proximity to were the emperor’s distant relatives—a couple twice-removed cousins here, a great-nephew thrice-removed there, some noblemen he kept around just to be cordial.

You landed this job through some miraculously lucky twist of fate. A position opened up and you got word of it through a neighbor whose daughter worked in the palace doing the same thing. With her good word and your eagerness to work, your spot was secured. Thank goodness for that, too, because you were days away from resorting to begging for food in the marketplace or resorting to… less savory lines of work.

It has been a little bit more than six months since you started your contract at the palace. Only recently did you start getting very close to the upper echelons of nobility. Of course, you saw the emperor a few times growing up in the capital of your nation. You caught glimpses during huge festivals, the occasional parade, and there was a rumor you heard many times as a child.

The rumor went something like this: if you walk around the Western border wall of the palace and look up at the largest balcony in the middle on the top floor, right around the sunrise, you can see the emperor lounging there and reading, taking in the sunrise and smoking a cigar. You only went to investigate the rumors once when you were very young and sure enough, there he was. He waved at you from far up above. You were much smaller back then, no older than five. That was a rare occurrence, and it made a strong positive impression on you.

When you were a child, you went years without seeing him. He was in poor health and aging, increasingly paranoid of being poisoned, and only concerned with two things: not getting assassinated and making sure his eldest son ascended to the throne. He was unsuccessful (so far) with the former, and time had yet to tell if he would be successful with the latter.

Since starting work in the palace, you learned that things go awry here often. It was a dangerous place. You always were under the impression that the emperor’s kingdom was a quiet one—but it seems like that was just the faithful and effective work of public relations.

You witnessed attempted assassinations, tasters dying from everything from poorly prepared foods to genuine arsenic, spies from neighboring nations being found out, conspiracies within almost every department, and more. Every time an incident of scandal and lies occurred, word around the palace was that it made the emperor sick. He had the habit of withdrawing to his chambers for weeks on end whenever there was a scare.

You couldn’t blame him. But you also had no idea how he maintained his good reputation outside of the palace—neighboring nations knew him as a reasonable, stand-up guy with a loyal citizenry. Sometimes you couldn’t help your opinion shifting, given his behavior inside the palace and the fact that the country was involved in two wars at the moment. He may be a sort of coward, a paranoid old man, sickly and frail, but one thing was for certain: his sons were smart, strong, loyal, and fit for the throne. Well, two of them were.

Prince Ace was the eldest. He was quite the heartthrob. Not only was he devilishly handsome, but he was also kind to anyone, regardless of noble status. He had an air of royalty. You could tell he was of high birth not only because of the luxurious clothes he wore, but because of the way he carried himself.

His shoulders were pushed back whenever he walked, head held high, and chin up. He was cunning, strategic, and a decorated war general. The citizenry admired him for it, and it was generally accepted fact that, as both the first-born and the one most fit to rule, he would take his father’s place when the moment came. And the moment was quickly approaching. He had been out of the palace on business for quite some time.

Prince Sabo, younger than him by just a few months, was similarly regal, but it had been three years since you’d seen him, as he was off on diplomacy business with a neighboring country, and, rumors said, secretly engaged to a princess, who had been promised to him since birth.

The youngest son, however, seemed like quite the opposite of both.

You hadn’t worked in the palace for long before you started to become acquainted with Prince Luffy through rumors. His presence was said to be loud, unavoidable, noisy, and overbearing. He seemed to live in his own little world. He couldn’t be asked to do or care about much, other than whatever fit his fancy for fleeting moments at a time. He neglected every responsibility he had, scorned relatives with poor manners, and refused to engage in governmental affairs or bureaucracy. Some whispered that he didn’t even want to be a prince.

His brothers were often out of the palace, frequenting neighboring nations, visiting distant battlefields, and meeting diplomats, as princes do. But Prince Luffy was out of the palace for vastly different reasons. He traveled for fun, did whatever he felt like with his friends, threw parties, and generally caused a mess wherever he went. He was rarely home, and both the emperor and his older brothers thought of this with relief.

Of course, this was never the case initially.

In his adolescence, the emperor tried to get Prince Luffy to do the things princes usually do. He tried to get him to participate in noble business, sit at war tables and strategic meetings with the higher courts, to fraternize with the rulers from other countries (and their daughters), and so on. But after years, the emperor decided that Prince Luffy was a lost cause.

Seeing that Prince Luffy harbored no ill-will towards his brothers and had no misapprehension that he would take the throne someday, the emperor figured this was for the best. He was too exhausted to care, after a certain point. Too paranoid and occupied with other things to pay much attention to Prince Luffy.

The kingdom bordered the sea, and the youngest son spent most of his time sailing with his favorite band of ruffians that he lovingly referred to as his crew. As long as he didn’t start any wars, and as long as he settled down someday with a wife, the emperor decided that Prince Luffy could have free range. No amount of exploring on the sea, however, would exclude Prince Luffy from the fact that he had noble blood and obligations at home. No amount of escapism would render these facts null. But his brothers always thought that maybe Prince Luffy would manage to avoid those obligations altogether by some twist of fate.

But back to your job. You ‘specialized’ in bathing rituals and massage. These were easy enough skills to learn, and the palace demanded a plethora of workers adept at all kinds of relaxation methods, so you were always busy.

Recently you got a sort of promotion. One of the older women in your department slipped on the tile in the bathhouse and it rendered her, for a time, unable to work. The lady who ran the whole team of fifty or sixty-odd masseuses picked you out, for some reason. You were to take over for the injured woman for as long as it took her to heal, and the estimated recovery time was around six months.

Your mind immediately got to calculating. In six months, surely you could surpass the woman whose position you were filling. She was old as bones, first off, and she didn’t seem as eager to work as you. You were desperate for money, to the point where you’d do almost anything, and you actively sought out more responsibilities in the palace. But it was always a balancing game. You wanted to make yourself essential to the staff, but also didn’t want to draw too much attention. It seemed at times that this was an impossible game to play. But you figured you could try your hardest to turn the tides in your favor for longer-term employment at this level, and, of course, higher wages.

Before your temporary promotion, you worked mainly in the smaller bathhouse. You performed scrub and massage treatments for nobility, their guests, and the like. But this new promotion would send you outside of the bathhouse on occasion. You were now on standby to do house-calls, of sorts. If nobility requested a certain service in their room quarters and your coworkers were busy, it would be your duty to go pick up the slack.

What concerned you the most was that there were only three people on this new team, you being one of them. There were many times where the other two ladies on the team were too busy for your own comfort. In other words, they were so busy that you knew you’d have to venture out of the bathhouse someday soon. The thought made you nervous, so much so that when the time rolled around for your first visit to a nobleperson’s living quarters, you were shaking like a leaf, sick with anxiety that you were going to screw it all up somehow.

Your first house call was to some random and very distant cousin of the emperor’s late wife. She was nice enough, but you noticed, as you always do, the small ways that nobility treat commonfolk as less than. Some of them had plain disgust written all over their faces when you were nearby. Others looked down their noses at you, clicked their tongues, snapped their fingers, and talked to you like you were stupid. But whenever you started what you were called there to do—a massage or a bathing ritual, like a multi-step pampering scrub or mask—they almost morphed into semi-normal people.

After you performed a service for them, after they saw how skilled, methodological, and attentive you were to every step of the process, you could see their whole demeanor shift.

Respect. You gained their respect, only after providing something to them. Before proving your utility, you would be treated by some as a waste of space, an irritant, an annoyance, irrelevant. But afterwards they always seemed to look you straight in the eyes.

You walked away from your first house call less nervous and more perplexed by the change in the noblewoman’s demeanor. You wondered if that would be a common occurrence. It was.

A few weeks passed and you got more comfortable with the house calls. You got more comfortable seeing the ridiculously adorned living quarters, the gold-covered walls, canopies of rich colors, atriums, plants, incense, and, almost every time, seeing the gazes shift from disdain to respect.

After a while, you started to become personally requested, individually singled out. It was concerning. The balancing game you were playing? You were playing it wrong, evidently, because you started to get noticed.

One of your coworkers pulled you to the side one day and whispered something to you. Her name was Aaliyah. She was close to your age and especially kind. You considered her some kind of friend, though you generally avoided befriending coworkers.

“You know,” she started in a low voice, eyes shifting around to see if anyone would notice. “I remember that you said before you wanted to blend in. But I’ve heard whisperings circulating around that you’re really good at giving massages and scrubs and stuff. If you’re not careful, the royal family might catch word of it. You know they’re always curious about this stuff… so just be careful, ‘kay? Don’t want to attract too much attention, right?”

You gave her a severe look and whispered back. “Wait, are you serious?”

She nodded. “I heard one of the older ladies talking about how you’re getting requested so much she thinks you’ll start getting pulled for services for the inner family soon if you keep it up. Just had to tell you.”

You shivered. “Thanks for the heads up. Fuck.”

The next couple weeks were eventful. You found out that the old lady whose position you were temporarily filling was more injured than initially thought. So, you’d be in this position longer than anticipated. Longer than the initial period of six months you had been planning on. But that was good news for you.

Were you going to be able to keep things lowkey until then? Could you maintain your place comfortably in the middle rungs of the palace employment, going under the radar, being essential but not too essential? Could you dodge being noticed by the higher nobility for another year?

Maybe you could pull it off. Stop putting in so much effort, you told yourself. Calm your attention to detail, your perfectionist tendencies, your desire to be good at what you do. Allow a slip up here and then. Less effort. Maybe be late a couple times. That’d fix things, right? Smooth things over?

It didn’t.

---

It hadn’t been more than a week before you were asked to provide a service for someone closer to the emperor’s immediate family.

You just never knew with these people. They were touchy. The emperor’s punishments for insolence weren’t too bad, but for treason? They were brutal. Life ending. You never wanted to risk it. You never wanted to even be in a place where someone could accuse you of something, or to be too close to the wrong people at the wrong time. It was troubling. But it’s not like you had any place to say no when it came to being individually requested.

The service you were requested for was a spa treatment for the emperor’s aunt. She was a sweet old woman, maybe around 80 years old, who was renowned for being too nice to waitstaff, speaking out of turn, and treating the emperor like he was still a child. She didn’t give a damn for decorum, noble manners, or tradition. Some people spoke poorly of her for it, but you were intrigued by her reputation.

When you stepped into her living quarters, you were shocked by the simplicity. She was kind, gestured to somewhere you could put the huge tray you had to carry, and offered you a place to sit while you discussed what sorts of masks and scrubs you could offer her. This may seem inconsequential, but it was strikingly different than members of her extended family who demanded lists and barked out orders.

You agreed on a multi-step spa ritual. She led you over to her expansive bathroom, decked out in clean marble and glass surfaces—only the best for royalty. It was spotless. It smelled good. It was a night and day difference from the bathing quarters that you, as a member of waitstaff, were designated to.

The old woman undressed. This was part of your job, so you were unphased. You started by applying oil to her scalp and hair and wrapping it up in a freshly steamed towel. While she sat, letting the oil soak in, you got the bath ready and made sure the room got steamy and hot.

When the room was so filled with steam it felt suffocating, you helped the old woman get in the bath, which was filled with shallow, steaming-hot water. You applied black soap to her arms, legs, and torso, then washed her off carefully.

She was smiling at how enjoyable it was to be pampered. Kindness and calmness radiated off of her. It made you like her more. Her skin was crepey, soft, and a deep olive color from her favorite pastime of sunbathing.

After washing her off, you did a deep scrub on her arms and legs, applied another mask of sorts to her body, washed it off, used an exfoliating cloth… the steps went on. This was an hour and a half long process. You were sweating, sleeves rolled up, working carefully. During one of the rinses, she said something that caught you off guard.

“You’re too young and pretty to do this job,” she rasped out so quietly you had to still your hands and lean in. “What are you doing working so hard in the palace? You ought to be married by your age. Surely you have no shortage of suitors. I wonder why you don’t marry up in wealth and social status.”

You had to pick your jaw off the floor. None of the nobility had said anything like this before—in fact, it felt like none of them until that point had even seen you as an actual person.

“O-oh, uh,” you stuttered, unsure of the proper response to someone so above you in every facet of life. “You’re too kind. Thank you, madam.”

“I know a few young men who would be happy with someone as pretty as you for a wife. Regardless of social status. Maybe I’ll introduce you sometime…” Her voice trailed off. You didn’t know what else to say other than do a customer service half-laugh and thank her.

Neither of you said a word for the rest of the service. You toweled her off, applied lotion, and helped her put on a white, plush robe. Guiding her back to her room, you helped her get seated, got her a cup of tea, and bowed before leaving the room.

When you went to grab the door handle, she spoke again. “Put some thought into it.”

You thanked, bowed again, and left the room quickly.

What was that?

That was weird. You shook your head as you hurried off, unnerved by the candor and directness with which she spoke to you and saw you. You knew better than to count on anyone for anything, let alone those above you. Surely, she wasn’t serious about introducing you to anyone. Hopefully you wouldn’t see her again, lest she make trouble for you or ask questions that were too intrusive.

---

The next day, the palace was up in arms over the return of Prince Luffy from a long journey at sea. It had been over two years since he stepped foot in the palace. He was only returning this time because he was injured. Or at least, that’s what you heard through the grapevine.

After a session of gossiping with the bathhouse staff, you and a handful of coworkers were ordered to restock supplies in a sauna area closer to the emperor’s quarters than was usual. You went in a large group, each carrying a tray filled with clay pots and towels.

To your surprise, you caught a glimpse of the prince from afar—the whole corridor was in a commotion as he stalked down the large hallway, followed by a squadron of guards, his personal waitstaff (which he had, allegedly, tried to get rid of many times over), and court staff trying to get him to do administrative, princely duties. They had scrolls and tablets. It looked like he was deliberately walking fast enough to shake them. Some of the entourage was running to keep up.

The group following the prince must have been twenty people. You barely saw him, surrounded by your coworkers caught in the uproar of whispers, stares, murmurs, people pushing and shoving, trying to get a glimpse of him.

He had dark hair. You knew that already. His robes were crimson, bandages visible over his chest that would usually be bare in his traditional garb. From this distance, you could barely make out his facial expression. He looked pissed off, like he was scowling, in a rotten mood. You were glad to not be in his way.

---

“You’ve got an interesting request,” one of the ladies above you in the spa team ushered you over to her later that day. “I couldn’t believe my eyes at first but sure enough, it’s real, my dear.”

She pulled a scroll from her pocket and opened it slowly. It read:

“Request for the youngest and newest member of the inner team of masseuses and spa workers for the Office of Care and Medicinal Practices for the Assurance of Health of the Royal Family: report to the west-facing living quarters of the anterior of the inner palace for scrub and spa treatment at dusk.”

You looked at her flatly. So what? Just another request? You had no clue what the big idea was.

“Noted, madam. I will prepare accordingly.” You responded evenly, trying to not let your confusion show on your face in case these were details you were supposed to know beforehand, or know something about.

“Do you know what that means?” She asked, pointing at the last line of the scroll. “Do you know whose quarters those are?”

Fuck.

“No, madam, my apologies.”

“Those are Prince Luffy’s quarters, my dear.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other. You went silent for a second, trying to process and understand what could have gone wrong for you to be requested there.

“There must be some mistake,” you blurted out. “Surely, there is some mistake.”

“I thought it was a mistake as well. But I went and checked with the head of his waitstaff team, and they told me that you had been recommended to the prince directly, by his great aunt. Prepare your working materials and head there near sunset. Good luck.”

She handed you the scroll (which would serve as your entry pass) and shuffled off.

Your stomach sank.

Performing a spa service for one of the princes? How on earth was this your lot at the moment? This was way out of left field—ridiculous, uncalled for, concerning, absurd—and far more than you bargained for. More than you could chew. You felt a knot of nerves ball up inside of you before you realized you had maybe an hour to prepare.

You had no idea what sort of things the prince would request. The summons didn’t have any details either. Panicking, you squeezed everything you possibly could onto your tray, washed your hands, and changed into a fresh pair of robes.

The hour passed like it was a matter of seconds. Before you knew it, the sun was starting to set.

next chapter >

Inspiration: This fanart of Luffy, Ace, and Sabo. (if the link doesn’t work, or if it links directly to my twitter, lmk plz LOL). Lots of Arabic music (in particular, Mesaytara by Lamis Kan… if you’re curious about where the story is going, look at the lyrics in English). I’m thinking this palace, and the kingdom altogether, are kind of a crossover of a few different cultures, a fictional melding together of aesthetics that have been swimming around in my head. Also, obviously, Apothecary Diaries was on my mind.

Thanks so much for reading! I'll drop part two on Friday or earlier if i'm feeling bold. Here's my masterlist.

#love triangle incoming #title for this chapter was inspired by the song sabry aalil by sherine #can you tell where i'm going with this?#one piece smut #op smut #one piece x reader #op x reader #monkey d luffy smut #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #luffy smut #luffy x reader #luffy x you #dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll #luffy x y/n #luffy x reader smut

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sushirrrry · 19 days ago

Text

READ PART ONE - CASA AMOR - HERE

PART TWO | CRASH OUT || a harry styles x you fic. word count: 4,935 content warning: tension & arguments & love island antics

summary: you and harry were the strongest couple in the villa, until the recoupling after casa amor. now, with some time to talk, you learn more things were happening in casa than what you had seen prior.

author's note: y'all loved this so much (which I did not think you would???) so I just had to write a little something today - this will ultimately be a short series because it's pretty easy to write once you get into it! I have another part that I cut from this one because I figured it's more fun to have more stories to post, so keep an eye out for that <3 I'm trying a few different ways to write it to make it feel like you're watching it but also feel a bit more story-like! also - wrote a character list at the top for your info!

hope you guys enjoy <3

Tonight on Love Island: Here is your breakdown after the recoupling...

{In the Villa}

You go to sit with Luca on one of the low couches near the beanbags, your heels click together as you walk across the pavement. Your knees tucked up beneath you when you sat, a half-empty glass of water balanced between your palms. The night is thick with that strange, quiet buzz that happens when everyone’s pretending that they’re okay.

Luca watches you for a second before going to say anything; he pauses and gives you a reassuring smile.

“Y’alright?” he asks you, making conversation light.

You give him a small smile but nothing more, because you don’t really know how to feel but don’t want to show that to him immediately. “Don’t know really, just feel a bit betrayed.”

He nods in understanding. “Didn’t expect that, you know. Him walking back with her—like I was just under the impression that he was going to test it in Casa, but I figured that you would have had that conversation beforehand, y’know what I mean?”

You shrug, not having anything else to say, “Neither did I—and that’s why I’m fuming, Luca, it’s almost like he was waiting for the opportunity to leave.”

Silence hangs for a moment; you wonder if Luca knows something more, but isn’t saying it, so you allow there to be a space held for that conversation.

Harry and Luca are good mates, but you two have always had an open communication – he’s kind, he’s funny, he’s been choosing girls that aren’t choosing him back so you both feel relatively on the same page at the moment.

Tiana and Luca were coupled prior to Casa, but she had chosen Liam instead – it was for the best, seeming that they were getting along quite better than her and Luca had prior. That left you both single in the villa now, and given a certain opportunity, it may be best to try and explore the connection to make sure that you’re safe.

“I just thought…” Luca hesitates for a moment, shrugging as his arm gets placed around the seat where you’re sitting, “Like, if anyone was gonna make it through Casa, it was you two, so it’s a real twist in the villa now.”

You press your lips together, slowly letting your lower lip press further into your mouth as you start to gnaw on it softly. You know that your lip gloss is being smudged, but you’re not sure that you can just listen to Luca tell you all of the good parts about you and Harry.

You just respond with, “Yeah. Me too.”

“He talked about you a lot before he left, said you grounded him. Said it felt different with you—dunno, obviously he kept choosing you and you kept choosing him.”

You look over, surprised at Luca’s comments and allowing them to settle on you for a moment. “I mean it’s all talk though, isn’t it? He still brought her back.”

Luca nods, taking a sip of his drink before he adds, “I mean, but then… I dunno. Something changed. Tash walked into Casa and it was like—”

He stops himself for a minute, realizing he may have over-spoke. His voice got quiet, and he looked back up at you for a moment.

“Like what?” you ask, though you’re not sure you want the answer. You squint at him softly, trying to act like you don’t need the information that may be withheld. “Go on—I need to know if he’s still not being honest.”

Luca exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Like, I heard him make a comment where he wanted to remind himself that he could still pull, ‘cause I guess you two have been a thing since the beginning and it was just a game to him, or something. To pull Tash.”

“Did he say that?” You ask quickly, almost in awe of the fact that Luca would say that so openly, like he had been holding it in. The words slam into your chest at a frequency you weren’t aware of

Harry acted like what you had wasn’t real — just something to trade in for a quick ego boost and a pretty girl in Casa, which is exactly what he had been doing without you around. Your hands start to tremble around your glass you had been holding, so you moved it between palms to ensure Luca didn’t see your shake.

Luca clocks the shift in your face, noticing immediately that your disappointment may have turned into a bit of anger now.

“Shit,” he says quickly. “I—I mean I don’t think he did it with bad intentions or anything,”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in, standing up too fast. “You’re right. It makes sense now.”

Luca seems to have a bit of panic that he spoke far too much, “Hey—”

“I’m gonna pull him and clear some things up.”

You don’t wait for Luca to respond. You feel the walls closing in and you need answers — real ones, not just polite excuses and hollow regret that he tried to express. You find Harry near the outdoor kitchen, talking with Tash, who’s pretending not to glance at you every five seconds.

Your heart’s thudding so hard between your rubs that you barely hear your own voice speak out to him.

“Harry,” you say firmly, giving him a look, “can I pull you for a chat quickly?”

He looks up at you with a bit of surprise crossed over his features, maybe even hopeful, and nods without a word before following you.

He follows you toward the fire pit, where the embers are still burning. You take a seat at the benches and tuck your dress under your knees before you cross your legs and let him settle for a minute before you take in a deep breath before you say what you need to say.

“So, I hear that you had told some people in Casa,” you start, voice calm but breaking beneath, “that you felt different with me. That I grounded you. That what we had was real.”

He nods, a hesitant caution over him as he started to nod a bit in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true, I did.”

“But then I’m also told that you needed some reminder,” you say, looking him straight in the eyes, “why did you need to remind yourself that you could still pull?”

The color drains from his face when you keep speaking with a confidence; his eyes glance quickly away from you which is all that you need to know. You don’t even wait for his answer before continuing.

“Because that’s what you told the boys in Casa, isn’t it? That you walked into Casa, and you let yourself forget everything we had. Just so you could prove you still had game, and that pulling Tash was some kind of game to you. So, is it a connection or is it a game?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He licks over his lips and blinks a few times at the ground before he knits his brows together to try and come to a conclusion, but you can tell… he has nothing else to say.

You shake your head, blinking fast to keep the tears from falling.

“For the record, I was never holding you back, Harry. You didn’t need to pull. You just needed to stay.”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak again, trying to reach for your hand. You pull back almost like his hand was on fire.

“I need to know if this was ever real for you. Or if I was just something steady until someone shinier walked in, because if that’s the case, I’m not even mad—I’m just over it and done.”

Harry’s mouth opens like he wants to argue — like he’s searching for some excuse to protect himself.

“I can understand that what you’re hearing may be hurtful, but that’s not fair,” he says, voice clipped. “You’re twisting it into something different than what it was.”

You blink slowly. “Am I? That’s not what it sounds like from what I’m hearing—unless you’re just lying.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His jaw is clenched, his chest rising and falling faster and you can tell that he’s trying to make sense of it all.

“I didn’t plan to connect with her, alright? It wasn’t like that. It was just—Casa messes with your head, and I was making a joke about the fact that I hadn’t really pulled girls in the villa since you and I were so strong—it had nothing to do with our connection or the fact that I was bored.”

“Well, you kissed her in the Hideaway,” you say flatly, arms folded across your stomach like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “You don’t just end up there by accident, and I think it sounds a lot more than just pulling for the game.”

He exhales sharply, turning back to you. His voice rises a little.

“I was trying to figure it out! Everyone was telling me to explore, test things. I didn’t want to look like an idiot if you’d cracked on, too, which I know you did.”

You laugh once, short and disbelieving as you squint at him. “So, you did it to protect yourself—called her naughty and trouble.”

He hesitates for a moment; you can tell that he doesn’t want to lie, but doesn’t want to make anything worse, and then, softer: “Yeah. Maybe I did. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal here. I always had the intention of coming back to you here.”

That silence after his words lands like a brick. You look at him, and for a second, just a second, he sees it. The way your lip trembles at his words, and the way that your eyes are glassy with the recognition that he had hurt you. The way you’re so tired of fighting for something he already threw away. You don’t even know if you want to fight for it anymore.

Harry softly closes his eyes as he shakes his head and rests his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t—I’m just sorry. What we had wasn’t made up or fake or whatever—these past weeks weren’t just thrown away.”

You nod once, solidified in his statement with a simple statement of your own. “It might not’ve been fake. But it stopped being real the second you let her kiss you.”

That hits him almost like a bullet, so he breathes in slowly. And something in him starts to fold.

“I didn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, voice is soft to keep it between you both as he shakes his head as if he can’t believe that you’re having this conversation. “Even when I was with her, even when I was doing all that stupid flirting —"

You look at him, and for a moment you’re not angry anymore.

“You knew it would hurt me,” you whisper staring at your hands, “and you did it anyway.”

Harry’s eyes shine. “I know. I know I did. And—and I was selfish.”

“I don’t even know how to be mad anymore,” you murmur, staring at the ground. “I feel stupid. And empty. And I don’t want to cry over someone who didn’t choose me.”

Harry moves towards you on the bench, looking down at you before he lets his shoulders drop.

“I did choose you—I always chose you, but” he says, quietly desperate. “I just… didn’t respect you, and I’m sorry.”

You look at him through blurred eyes, but you can’t let the tears fall because you don’t want to give it more energy than it’s worth anymore. “Then why does it feel like you didn’t?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you, so he looks away with his tail between his legs and wants to speak but decides against it. You press your fingers under your eyes to not ruin your makeup, swallowing a sob as you look away from him.

And neither of you says anything more. Because maybe for the first time since this whole thing began, he understands that he broke something he might not be able to put back together. The silence has stretched too long as you sit there.

Harry is still crouched next to you but keeps a look on his face that he still has more to say, lips parted like he might speak — but he doesn’t. You can feel it by the way that he rubs his palms over his pants and looks away. There’s still something he’s not saying. You blink slowly, jaw tight before you swallow.

“Did you sleep in the same bed as her?”

His eyes flick away for a split second, and that’s all you need. That was the confirmation that you needed.

“Harry,” you say, louder now, standing up. “Did you sleep in bed with her?”

Nothing-- there’s nothing for him to say because he’s not going to lie to you, which makes this feel even worse in the moment.

You let out a sharp breath and shake your head. “Right.”

And then, before he can move or follow or stop you, you stand quickly from your spot on the bench and walk across the patio, heels clicking against the pavement as you make your way back to where a smaller group sits.

The rest of the villa is scattered — Ella and Tiana are on some loungers by the pool, the boys are grouped near the kitchen, and Tash is sitting on the edge of a daybed, twisting her hair around her finger, laughing at something Mitch is saying.

She looks up just in time to see you walking straight for her. The air has a bit of a shift when you realize that the villa is watching you walk to her, angrily away from Harry. Harry starts to follow you when he realizes that you are going towards Tash, he stops in his tracks.

Tash’s smile towards Mitch drops when she sees you approaching.

“Hey,” she says, cautious. You don’t waste time; your time has been wasted enough these past few weeks.

“Did you and Harry sleep in the same bed in Casa?”

The villa goes dead silent, almost like everyone had been waiting for the ball to drop and for you to have some sort of crash out.

Tash blinks, sitting up softly like she’s trying to think about what she needs to say to make her not seem like the bad guy. “What?”

“It’s a simple question, Tash, really—I’m not here to bullshit you or be mad at you because I know you’re just coming into Casa, but I just have to know because while I was making connections in Casa I was being respectful and staying out of other men’s beds because I had already made a connection here, so I just want to know.”

Tash hesitates for a moment, glances past you — toward Harry, who’s now standing with Ella and Johnny near the kitchen. Then she lifts her chin with a confidence that you appreciate.

“Yeah,” she says, a bit meek but you disregard that. “We did—just the last two nights.”

You close your eyes for half a second before you realize that you have nothing to be mad about—he’s not yours anymore, and you don’t want him. The girls react instantly; Mitch looks between the two of you like he was just there to settle if something went down.

“What the fuck,” Ella mutters under her breath. She looks at Harry before he rolls his eyes and exhales like he couldn’t believe that this had become his life.

Mitch whistles, biting on his lip as he runs a hand down his face.

You nod once, like you’ve just confirmed something you already knew, “Cool—I appreciate the honesty.”

Then you turn to walk back to where Harry is standing with Ella and Johnny; Harry’s watching from a few feet away, face pale, jaw set. You meet his eyes with a hurt that you hadn’t really felt before.

“You couldn’t even say it,” you say, voice shaking. “You let her do it for you, you’re such a fucking bullshitter.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, muttering, “It wasn’t like that.”

You fold your arms, raising your voice at him. “It was exactly like that. You cuddled up with her at night and kissed her in the Hideaway like I wasn’t lying in bed alone thinking about you so you can get your dick up? Fucking prick.”

You can see the guilt and the remorse that crosses his face because he knows exactly what you were referring to; you two had been intimate together, and while it was still Love Island, it still hurt to know that he had decided to lay in another bed with another girl doing who knows what.

But it’s not enough to watch him feel guilty. Instead, you walk back across the villa, past every stunned face, every wide eye, and back to the daybed where Tiana’s already holding a space for you to sit down, where you can keep your shoulders back and your chin high.

You might be heartbroken, but you are not small.

{NARRATOR}

Well, that escalated quickly, didn’t it? One question turned into a full-blown villa bombshell — and it looks like Harry has finally realized what it means to fumble the bag in front of everyone. Looks like the only thing he can pull now is his hair out!

The girls are gathered in the dressing room, the air heavy and quiet with some sort of exhaustion from the sun and complete heartbreak from the fact that this could have happened to any of them. It was just a half-circle of crossed legs, red-rimmed eyes, and half-sipped glasses of water nobody really wanted.

You’re sitting on the edge of a chair, fingers clenched in your lap, hair still half-curled from earlier when you thought tonight might be fun or you might feel better about your connection.

Ella’s next to you; Tiana’s perched on the counter; Jess sits with her back against the vanity; Megan is sat at her vanity space. With another beat, all of you watch as Tash walks in last.

There’s a pause — thick enough to cut. She stands in front of the group, eyes flicking between everyone, but then settling on you.

“Can I sit?” she asks, gently, almost like she was hoping you would just yell at her instead of being nice; it may make her feel less shitty about her experience, but instead you just nod once.

She lowers herself onto the bench across from you, tucking her legs beneath her.

“I just wanna say something, okay? No drama, just… girl to girl,” She looks around at everyone, her voice a bit weary as she starts to speak again.

You don’t respond. You’re staring at the floor, jaw tight, heart pounding at what else she could reveal to you.

“I didn’t come in trying to wreck anything,” Tash continues, “Y’know, I liked Harry. He was flirty, yeah, but he never mentioned you in a way that made it feel closed off—like I knew he was in a connection, but I guess he just flirted with me more than he should have.”

Jess shifts uncomfortably. Tiana shoots a look toward Ella, but no one says anything.

“And I get it now,” Tash says. “I didn’t realize how deep it was with you two. I wouldn’t have gone there if I knew, truly.” She swallows and licks over her lips as she shakes her head. “But I didn’t kiss him thinking I was stealing someone’s boyfriend, you know what I mean?”

Still, you say nothing. The room is quiet as they’re waiting for you to speak.

Tiana shakes her head instead before taking the initiative, “It’s just muggy, innit? Like he knew that was going to humiliate Y/N and did it anyways, you know.”

“I just think the bed thing was mad disrespectful,” Ella says with no disregard, “Like, just knowing the context of it all—I don’t know.”

“I just feel like an idiot,” you say shrugging before you look up at Tash, “It’s fine. It’s not your fault—I get he wanted to test our connection, and he did it.”

You glance around the room, eyes darting like you’re trying to make sense of your own place here.

“I just feel stupid for trusting him so effortlessly. For sleeping alone every night, for saying no to other boys while he was cuddled up with you.”

Ella scoots closer, her hand brushing your back.

“I thought we were solid. I thought we were the couple people looked at and went, ‘Yeah, they’re real.’ And now?” Your voice catches as you start to take your makeup off with a wipe to try and hide the fact that tears are threatening, “I feel like a joke.”

Tash looks genuinely upset by the fact that she could have done something wrong. “You’re not. Honestly, I wouldn’t have—”

“I know,” you cut in, gently but firmly as you look at her. “I know you didn’t do it to hurt me—please don’t take it personally.”

You take a deep breath, but it doesn’t steady you. “It just hurts anyway.”

The girls all stay quiet as they begin to get ready for bed, and they know sometimes silence is safer than platitudes. Jess leans over and grabs a tissue, handing it to you.

“You don’t owe anyone forgiveness tonight,” Ella says softly, almost privately. “Not him. Not her. You just do what you need.” She glances toward Tash who’s started to look through her items to get ready for bed. “And to be fair, she showed up. That means something.”

You nod again, but your voice is barely there now.

“I just need to not feel like I got played.”

Tiana leans over from the counter, “Then don’t – you just need to feel like a girl who gave her heart to someone who didn’t know how to hold it because he’s a lad.”

You press the tissue to your face and smile, just slightly. The first honest thing you’ve felt in hours.

+++

The night’s gone quiet now, most of the girls have disappeared into the dressing room with Y/N when she started to walk off. Tash is nowhere to be seen, either, which gives Harry a bit of anxiety if he’s being honest. The fire pit crackles low in the background.

Harry sits on one of the beanbags, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, palms scrubbing over his face. Luca lounges next to him, arms behind his head, watching him with a slow, almost sympathetic blink.

Mitch and Ronan are there too, passing a bottle of water back and forth. No one says anything at first, the only thing heard is Harry exhaling loudly.

“You alright, bruv?” Luca asks quietly before glancing over at Harry.

Harry doesn’t look up. “No. Not really.”

Ronan whistles low. “Yeah… that was rough.”

Mitch nods, stretching out. “She looked gutted, man. Like properly heartbroken.”

Harry finally sits back, dragging his hands down his face, “I didn’t think it would get that bad—I’m honest to God, I didn’t think that the bed thing would come up.”

Luca shrugs, letting an arm rest behind his head. “I don’t think you were thinking at all.”

That lands to hurt him like a jab, and Harry is silent.

Ronan, trying to soften the blow, leans forward and shakes his head to try and make sense of what Harry did, “Look, Casa was a head-fuck. You get in your own head. Everyone’s buzzing around saying ‘test the connection,’ and you start convincing yourself it’s what you should do—and to be fair, Tash came onto you very strongly.”

Mitch chimes in, “Yeah. Like, I see both sides. You didn’t do anything that loads of lads haven’t done in there. But—”

He glances toward the villa. “It seemed that you had something real with her, like more than that sexual chemistry, you know.”

Harry nods slowly, contemplating what he had in front of him. “I know.”

Luca gestures vaguely. “And Tash? I mean… she’s sound. Not the one you’ve been sleeping next to since day one. Not the one who never cracked on, either.”

Harry’s eyes flick up. “That’s the part that’s killing me, you know? I kept thinking, what if she was moving mad on her end? What if I came back looking like a mug?”

The boys know that there was the potential to have this moment; there had to be communication, and they knew that Harry felt just as guilty, but scared that he was going to come back to Y/N also testing the connection and keeping another guy there.

Ronan spoke up, “Mate, you came back with a girl. You can’t be shocked she’s stepped back at bit.”

Harry slumps back again, rubbing his chest like it physically aches. “I messed it. And now she’s looking at me like she doesn’t even know me.”

Luca shifts, arms crossed. “That’s what happens when you break someone’s trust. You don’t just get to explain it away.”

Harry nods again, slower this time. “I know.”

The boys sit with that for a moment.

Then Ronan, a little softer: “You think you’ll pull her back?”

Harry lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know. I want to. I’d drop everything with Tash tonight if it meant I could fix it with her. But… I think she’s already gone in her head so I’m like… I don’t want to mess shit up with Tash now if it’s really over for us. Because Tash is mad cool too.”

Mitch leans back, sighing. “Well, if you want to try — you better show her something real. No more flirting, no more excuses. Show her you mean it.”

Harry looks down at his hands, quiet. For once, he doesn’t have a comeback. There’s no jokes or smirks coming from him as he feels the sting in the back of his eyes. He’s just a boy who fumbled the one person who made this villa feel like something more than just a game.

The villa buzz has faded into soft rustling — hairbrushes against tangles, toothbrushes tapping against sinks, and the occasional low whisper between couples slipping under the duvet.

You’re in the dressing room with the girls, wiping off your makeup in silence while Ella hands you a clean face cloth. Tiana squeezes your shoulder on the way to the bedroom, but no one says much.

No one needs to say anything at all to excuse what’s happened and how it continues to move throughout the villa. There’s a dynamic switch that has happened, mostly because the individuals in the villa that saw a light in you both is now gone. The damage has already been done, and there is now a shift in the mood.

Cut to the main bedroom, where the lights are dimmed and the duvets are already turned down when the islanders start to move into the sheets. A few of the couples are climbing into bed, bare legs tangling beneath cool sheets.

Tash walks in quietly after putting on her pajamas and rinsing her face and taking off her makeup, pulling her long hair up into a bun. She pads over to her side of the bed, the bed that her and Harry will ultimately share tonight.

He’s already there, sitting on the edge, shirtless, elbows on knees as he faces away from her. She starts to lift the covers to move into her spot. He gently leans back and gives her a soft look as he rubs his hand down his jaw.

“Don’t take it personally, yeah? I’m gonna sleep alone in the Hideaway tonight.”

Tash blinks, confused at his words before he speaks again.

“Just for tonight. Think it’s better. Out of respect.”

She holds his stare for a second, then nods and doesn’t say anything more. She understand the consequences that sharing a bed tonight could have—also, it starts to affirm that she had come in at the wrong time.

You’re lying on your side, facing the room, back to Ella, eyes half-closed but not sleeping—you feel so exhausted but barely tired at all.

Harry’s sitting at the edge of his bed one minute, hoodie in hand, slides cover his feet as he just stands with a smooth and slow motion. He picks up his water bottle from the floor and walks toward the door. The click of it opening slices through the silence of the main bedroom.

A few heads lift instinctively at the sound, and seeing Harry leave the room without Tash. She covers herself back up in the blankets, but the other islanders watch.

Ella turns slightly in her bed; Luca glances over his shoulder to see the noise; Jess lifts her head halfway, brows furrowed.

Even you look up — just enough to track Harry’s silhouette slipping through the door.

You notice that Tash didn’t follow behind. But once he’s left there’s no awkward whispers or explanations or realizations. But everyone feels it, and no one says a word.

All you know is that he doesn’t want to share a bed with Tash tonight in front of you. The first respectful thing he’s done all night - you could argue.

#harry fanfic #harry styles #harry wattpad #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles x original character #harry styles fanfic #ask #anon ask #hs #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #love island #love island uk #love island fic

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bloatedandalone04 · 5 months ago

Text

Your Place or Mine

Summary: Levi is one of the two new operatives assigned to the watchtowers that overlooked The Gorge, and although he was strictly forbidden to contact the other watcher, you prove to be too tempting to pass up. Luckily for him, you just so happen to feel the same way.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: not really spoilers for the gorge but can be ig, loosely follows the plot, fluff, swearing, smut, unprotected sex, pining, touch starved levi, this is lowkey a roller coaster.

It only took Levi a few days to fall into an efficient routine at his new ‘home away from home’, which was the biggest load of shit he’d heard in a while. This place wasn’t his home, he didn’t even know where in the world he was, for fucks sake.

But he’d make do, because he had literally nothing else better to do, and that was why he was picked for this. Well, that and the fact that he was one hell of a shot.

He fell into a pattern of walking the Western rim daily, restocking ammo, and checking the containment fence, cloakers and suspended mines and making sure they were all in order. It was pretty easy, and he’d already done his radio check he was required to do every thirty days.

His mission was to keep the contents of the Gorge inside the tall walls, but Levi still didn’t know what it was, exactly, he was keeping from coming out, because he had yet to witness it, and he’d been here a whole month already.

With that being said, the change of scenery was nice, and though he missed the beach, he didn’t mind the trees one bit. It was so quiet here, yet Levi wasn’t bored or antsy whatsoever. However, he was…curious about a few things; one being what the fuck he was tasked to watch over, two being who his Eastern counterpart is.

He hadn’t seen any movement at all across the Gorge, and he tried not to be a total stalker and use the binoculars to look over there and see what was going on on the East side. He assumed it was relatively similar, if not the exact same thing that was going on over here on the West side, which was a whole lot of nothing, but still, he was curious. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

One night in October, Levi was sitting outside on the observation deck of his tower, simply watching the world go by as he jotted down words in his notebook. Being away from his small room at home had really given him some inspiration, creatively, and he was sure he would have over a full book of poems by the time he was finished with this year long mission.

As he wrote, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and when he lifted his head, he saw that there was a light shining in his direction from the East Tower, but it wasn’t one of the watch lights. It was from the other person.

Levi set his book down and got up from the chair, his curiosity peaked as he moved towards the binoculars. What he saw was a woman who looked like she was in her late twenties, standing on the East Towers observation deck, holding up a big notepad that read, ‘HI, NEIGHBOR. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?’

As he read the words, Levi’s lips curved upwards into a smile, and it only grew when he saw the way your own lips had formed a small grin, and even from this far away, he could tell that you’d been as curious about him as he’d been about you.

And wow, you were fucking stunning.

While Levi preferred to live his life alone, he had been with his fair share of women and has had girlfriends before, but you were something else. You were so beautiful, and he could tell by your greeting that you were funny, and somehow that only made him feel even more drawn to you.

He wasn’t curious anymore. No, now he was full on intrigued to know more about his ‘neighbor’.

Levi looked around the deck for a few seconds before he turned and went inside, hoping he didn’t accidentally give you the wrong impression in his search for something to write on. He grabbed the whiteboard he’d been using as a chart, and carelessly erased the data he’d already re-written elsewhere.

He quickly went back outside and saw that you were still standing on the opposing deck, though your smile was a little smaller, and he hastily wrote back to you with his big, bold handwriting.

‘WE ARE NOT ALLOWED CONTACT’.

Levi held it up and hoped you didn’t take his message too seriously, because he was thinking that this might be a perfect way to pass the time.

You read the board and pouted a bit before you turned your back to him and flipped to a new page in your book. He watched you write something on it, before you turned back to him and held it up, ‘HAVEN’T YOU EVER BROKEN A RULE FOR FUN?’

Levi laughed to himself as he shook his head, wiping his previous message from the board with his sleeve before he wrote, ‘MAYBE ONCE OR TWICE,’ and went to go hold it up, but then he paused and had an inner debate with himself for a few moments. Fuck it. He added, ‘FOR THE RIGHT PERSON.’ and then held it up for you to read.

He watched your smile return as your eyes trailed over every word, and he was suddenly very glad he added that last part, because you were full on grinning now, and he was sure it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen.

But you didn’t turn away or make a move to write a response, so Levi once again erased his message and scribbled something else down, ‘HAVEN’T YOU?’

When you read his second message, you bit down on your lip, something Levi was able to see almost concerningly well from just how upgraded the equipment was, but he refused to let his mind wander any further than it already has.

He watched you flip back in your book and scribble something out, and a few seconds later, you were holding up your first question, but had crossed out the first part, leaving only, ‘WHAT’S YOUR NAME?’.

Alright, alright, he’ll play along.

He grabbed the whiteboard and sprawled his name on it before turning it to you, ‘LEVI KANE,’

Levi watched as you stepped away from the railing again, and he saw the way your lips moved as you tried his name out on your tongue, and now he felt a little desperate to be close enough to hear your voice. And to hear how his name sounded coming from your mouth.

You nodded slowly, pressing your lips together as you crossed your arms and leaned over the railing a bit, and he tried to not notice the way your chest was pressed together and exposed a bit of cleavage.

‘WHAT’S YOURS?’ he wrote once he realized he still didn’t know your name, but you seemed to be content with that as you peaked through the binoculars one last time before shrugging with a teasing smile on your lips.

Then you turned around and walked inside the tower, leaving Levi standing alone outside his own.

You were mysterious and challenging, and he liked that. A lot.

And now he couldn’t wait for the next time you and he found yourselves on your respective observation decks at the same time.

A few days went by, and much to Levi’s dismay, he hadn’t been able to communicate with you. But that wasn’t without multiple attempts.

He casually flickered a flashlight in your direction, left the lights on for a lot longer than needed when he really should’ve been sleeping, and even shot off his gun, which he pretended was an accident, but you weren’t even there to see him do it.

It was quiet tonight, like most nights, but Levi liked it. It allowed him to write without any interruptions, and as of lately, a certain person had been the main source of his inspiration.

Funnily enough, it was the same person who just fired off three rounds with her pistol, and Levi shot up out of the chair he was sitting in, similar to the way he usually shoots up out of bed when he has his nightmares.

His book was tossed aside as he leaned over the railing, his eyes flickering along the East wall of the Gorge to see what you were firing at, but when he saw nothing, he looked up at you and saw the sheet of paper held in your hands. When he looked into the binoculars, he was able to read what you had written down, ‘HEY, STRANGER,’

A slow smile formed on Levi’s lips as his heartbeat slowed down to its normal pace, and he shook his head as he turned around and reached for the whiteboard he kept on the table next to the chair.

‘HEY BACK,’ he wrote, then held it up for you to see.

You smiled back and then held up another note that said one word. ‘BORED.’

Levi let out a quiet laugh and he let his gaze linger on your features for a few extra seconds before he stepped away from the binoculars again. God, you were so beautiful. Definitely the prettiest thing in this place, and that was a hard thing to compete with since he was surrounded by beautiful scenery. Yet you were still at the top of the list.

He scribbled down a question on the whiteboard, and he hoped you actually answered it this time, because he was dying to find out if your name was as pretty as the rest of you. ‘ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME YOUR NAME NOW?’

Levi watched your teeth sink into your lip again like it did the first time you and he did this, and this time, he did let his mind wander a bit. He wondered what sound you’d make if he took your lip between his own teeth. He wondered if you’d let him find out somehow.

You looked like you were having an inner debate with yourself before you finally flipped to a new page of the book and wrote something down. That something wasn’t your name, though. ‘WHAT DO I GET IF I TELL YOU?’

The look you gave him as you held it up had Levi pressing his lips together to hold back a groan. You were teasing him like you did before, and fuck if he didn’t like it. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’ he wrote back, and he watched as a genuine smile formed on your lips.

Then you wrote something else and lifted it for him to see. ‘Y/N,’

It was just your first name, but Levi was more than okay with that, because it lived up to his expectations. Your name was definitely as pretty as the rest of you.

It was December now, and although the weather made Levi’s routine a bit harder, he still found time to talk to you almost every night.

He still didn’t know your last name, but at this point he didn’t care, because he was very much into you, and you were very much into him.

From the first night you reached out to him, Levi was hooked, and that feeling only intensified the longer he got to know you. And the close call you and he had a few weeks back definitely solidified his feelings for you, because he hadn’t felt that panicked in a long time as he watched you fire off countless rounds towards his side of the gorge while he defended your side.

On a side note, at least he finally knew what he was keeping from coming out now.

Since it was now winter, it was significantly colder out, and there was only so much Levi could do to keep warm. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the tower was uncomfortable as fuck before, but now that it was snowing nearly every day, it just became damn near impossible to get any sleep.

And though he only slept for maybe three hours last night, Levi was wide awake tonight, and from the looks of it, so were you.

You were sitting on the chair on the observation deck, a blanket draped around your body as you watched the flames of a few candles you had placed on the railing flicker from the wind. It wasn’t snowing right now, so it wasn’t super cold, but even if it was, Levi didn’t think he could pass up the opportunity to talk to you. Of course, in the form of a whiteboard and marker.

‘HEY, BEAUTIFUL. CAN’T SLEEP?’ he wrote down, then caught your attention by flashing his light at you.

You got up from the chair and kept the blanket around you as you peered through the binoculars, and a pretty smile formed on your lips, which only served to prove his words. You wrote down something in your book before holding it up, ‘I CAN…BUT I DON’T WANT TO. I WAS WAITING FOR YOU,’

Levi smirked and jotted down his response, this part of his nightly routine definitely being his favorite by far. ‘SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING. YOU COLD?’

Your smile grew before you gave him a pointed look, and he laughed as you wrote down your answer. ‘A LITTLE…WISH I HAD SOMEONE HERE WITH ME,’ you held up the page for a few seconds before quickly flipping onto a new one and writing something else, ‘YOU KNOW, SO WE CAN SHARE BODY HEAT.’

Levi groaned at your words and felt a familiar stirring in his groin, but he made no move to relieve it as he simply wrote down another message to you. ‘YOU BETTER BE TALKING ABOUT ME,’

During the first month of knowing you, Levi would’ve never written something so bold, but after a few months, he knew where you and he stood with each other. He’d made his interest known, and you’d done the same. It was fair game now.

He watched as your shoulders shook a bit as you laughed, and fuck he wanted to hear that sound so badly. He wanted to hear your voice, see your gorgeous smile up close, and he wanted to see if you fit as perfectly in his arms as he thinks you do.

Most of all, he wanted to taste those lips of yours and tug on your bottom one in the way you do every time he looks over at you.

You leaned over the railing a bit as you held up your sheet of paper, and Levi felt another surge of desire run through his body. ‘OF COURSE I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU,’

He bit down on his own lip as he shook his head and wiped down the whiteboard before writing something else. ‘SO MUCH FOR STAYING PROFESSIONAL,’

Nothing about this was professional. None of it. Levi had broken the strict rule of absolutely no contact with the East side watcher, but how could he have possibly followed it after he saw you for the first time? You were far too tempting. Far too alluring and captivating and enticing. And Levi was all in.

‘WERE WE EVER?’ you held up the note, and Levi knew he needed to head inside the tower, because he was concerningly close to showing you just how much your words affected him.

Towards the end of January, the snow had already begun melting, and it wasn’t nearly as cold out anymore.

Levi was sitting on the edge of the tower, his legs dangling off the edge as the wind blew through his hair. His chin was propped on one of the bars as he looked down at the Gorge, but he couldn’t see much because of the fog.

Really, he’d rather not see the things that are down there again, because they were nothing short of nightmare fuel, and he didn’t need any more of those.

Nearly half a year here, surrounded by nothing at all but trees, and yet he didn’t feel lonely at all. Isolated, sure, but not lonely.

When a flicker of light caught his eye, he looked up and saw you shining the beam of sunlight that was bouncing off your knife in his direction, and Levi felt a grin form on his face as he slowly stood up and looked through the binoculars. ‘WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?’

A warm feeling took over his body, because you must have been watching him for a while, and that filled him with a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He grabbed the whiteboard that was next to his book full of poems, most about you, and wrote down a simple answer. But he knew it’d make that pretty blush form on your face again. That was something else he was dying to see up close.

‘NOW? YOU,’

Levi was right in his assumption, as he saw your face break out into a smile and a soft blush, and you shook your head as you leaned against the railing.

Before you could think of anything to say back, he erased his words and returned your question, and you purse your lips as you peeked through the binoculars again.

You wandered over to your notepad and took your time writing something back, but Levi wasn’t impatient. Out here, with you just across the way from him, it felt like he had all the time in the world.

And you were worth the wait.

A few minutes passed before you lifted the page and revealed your words, and what pretty words they were. ‘YOU’RE A BREATH OF AIR, LEVI. AND I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF YOU,’

Levi felt a shudder run through him, because that was exactly how he felt about you. He hadn’t heard you say a word to him, hadn’t seen you up close at all, and yet he couldn’t get enough of you.

And you’d just given him your heart. He’d make damn sure he took care of it, just as long as you took care of his.

With a steady hand, he wrote his response to you on the whiteboard before holding it up, ‘I’M FALLING HARD FOR YOU,’

And now he’d just given you his heart, though something tells him he’d already given it to you a few months ago.

Your eyes closed once you’d read his message, and you pressed your lips together as you flipped to a new page in your book, and Levi watched as you scribbled something down onto it. ‘I KNOW WHAT I WANT. BECAUSE I TOLD YOU MY NAME,’

Levi was instantly taken back to the second night you and he exchanged notes, and how you expected something from him if you told him what your name was. He was more than willing to deliver on whatever it was you wanted.

You took your time again as you wrote something else down, then flipped onto a new page before you even showed him the first one, and a few seconds later, Levi watched you go back to the previous page and hold it up, ‘IF WE EVER GET TO SEE EACH OTHER FOR REAL,’ then you flipped to the last page, ‘THE VERY FIRST THING I WANT YOU TO DO IS KISS ME.’

Levi felt a smug grin form on his face before he pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. He could definitely do that. He’d definitely do that. One hundred percent. Because he wasn’t falling for you anymore. He had already fallen, and there was no going back.

He barely missed a beat as he picked up the marker again and wrote down a question, but it wasn’t really a question. It was more like…a promise.

Once he purposely ended his sentence with a period rather than a question mark, he held the whiteboard up near his chest, which was home to his heart that was secretly beating very fast.

‘YOUR PLACE OR MINE.’

A few days after that last interaction, Levi had been working on the easiest and most efficient way to get across the gaping ravine to you.

He was going to fire off a literal rocket launcher with a zipline attached to it and then would trust you to tie it tight enough to whatever you could find so he didn’t fall into the Gorge.

Once that was done, he made himself look as presentable as he could, which required him to shave a bit and smooth out his hair. Then he picked a small bouquet of wildflowers for you, and then he was off.

The journey across wasn’t so bad, well the first half anyway. The last half required him to pull himself the rest of the way across, but it wasn’t too hard, thanks to all his previous training in the Marines.

With that being said, he was a little breathless when he finally made it over to the East side and unclipped himself from the zipline. His heart was beating fast, and part of it was because of the extra work he didn’t account for just then, but also because he was finally, finally, seeing you face to face.

As he started walking towards your tower, he heard the metal door swing open, and a few seconds later, you turned the corner and met his gaze almost instantly. He moved closer, and you looked as nervous as he felt, which was a cute change to your usual playful and teasing personality.

When he stood only a few inches from you, Levi let his eyes flicker all over your face as he took in all the stunning little details he failed to see through the binoculars, and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close as he explored your mouth with his tongue, making sure he satisfied the one thing you told him you wanted him to do when you got to finally meet up.

The second his lips touched yours, it felt like everything had fallen into place. You kissed him back just as intensely, your hands reaching up to cradle his face, and he felt like he could easily become addicted to this.

Levi pulled you impossibly closer, his hands resting rather possessively on your lower back for this being the first time he’s ever touched you, but he couldn’t help himself. You fit against him perfectly, and you simply just felt perfect.

When he finally broke the kiss, he was breathing a little heavier, and he gazed into your eyes as a grin spread across his face. “That,” he whispered, “was definitely worth waiting for.”

You laughed quietly, and he tightened his hold on you even more as he heard your voice for the first time after months of passing notes back and forth. “Absolutely,” you agreed, your thumb brushing along his cheek and smoothing over the ridges that were there from his scars. Your eyes left his and you glanced down at the bouquet he’d tucked into his belt, and he nearly moaned when you bit down on your lip. “Are those for me?”

Levi’s smile felt permanent as he reached down to pull the flowers out and offer them to you. “Of course they’re for you,” he answered, watching as you took them from him like they were the most precious things you’d ever held. His hand went back to your waist as he leaned in closer again. “So…what do we do now?”

He’d technically done what he came here to do, which was to give you the best first kiss of your fucking life, but that wasn’t the only reason, and he hoped that was as obvious to you as it was to him.

You smiled up at him before leaning in as well and draping your arms around his shoulders, your chest pressing right up against his as you hugged him for a few seconds. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled back to kiss him again, this one a little shorter, but still just as amazing as the first one.

“How about I give you a tour? Show you what it’s like over here on the East side?” you offered when you pulled away and pressed your forehead against his, and he knew by the teasing tone in your voice that a tour was probably the last thing that was on your mind.

Still, he hummed and nodded slowly, letting you take his hand in your small one and lead him towards the door and up the stairs. He shamelessly let his eyes wander all over your backside as he trailed behind you, and he couldn’t believe he was finally with you after months of pining.

When you and he got to the top, he looked around the open space for a few seconds. It was about the same size as his tower, but he didn’t have a piano in his, which was a little unfair. “Quite the setup you’ve got here,” he observed, eyeing the mattress you had pulled all the way up here, just like he did with his.

You laughed as you walked over to the small kitchenette that was on the far side of the room, and he quickly decided that it was one of his favorite sounds. “I imagine it looks quite similar to yours,” you murmured as you filled a glass with water before placing the flowers in it and setting it down on the top of the piano.

Levi did another sweep of the relatively simple and clean room. “Can’t say it does,” he replied, shaking his head afterwards. “Yours is definitely better.”

You smile over at him before moving closer and reaching for his hand. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his palm.

Levi’s breath got caught in his throat, and he swallowed quickly as his free hand reached up to cup your cheek. “I’m happy I’m here too,” he said back just as quietly as he stepped closer to you. “So fucking happy.”

The air had been thick with tension since the second he stepped foot on this side, and he tried not to give it too much attention, he really did, but it had only grown thicker, and now all Levi wanted to do was kiss you again, touch you all over, and completely give in.

You were so much shorter than him and moved with a lot more grace than he did as you led him over towards the makeshift bed, and he was content with letting you take the lead, because he was ready when you were, and though he couldn’t wait, he could wait for you.

He pulled you against his chest again, his hands settling on your hips as he looked down at you, and your eyes were so fucking gorgeous up close. Every part of you was. And he wanted to memorize every inch of you before he had to go back to his tower.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, and you gently dug your fingers into his skin as you guided him down until he was on his knees beside the mattress. You followed him down so you were kneeling in front of him, and you still had to look up at him as you caressed his face. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you whispered, your lips curving upwards into a teasing smile. “But I hope you know that I really don’t want to.”

“Then don’t stop,” he said back, his hands reaching for your hips again as he pulled you so you were straddling his lap. You were small in his arms, yet you felt absolutely perfect against him like this. His voice was a little rougher as he repeated the words he would be saying again soon enough, “Don’t stop.”

You let out a shaky sigh, your lips curling up into a relieved smile before you were leaning in and kissing him deeply, like the two before this one. Your hands gently pulled at his hair as you kissed him, and everything felt right. Like he already belonged here. Like he already belonged with you.

When you pulled away from his mouth, your teeth tugged at his bottom lip as you slowly rolled your hips against his, and Levi let out a soft groan. “Do you want to?” you quietly asked, your thumb stroking along his beard and chin.

Did he want to? Were you seriously asking him that right now? He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t stop his hands from touching every part of you he’s thought about over and over again while laying on his own bed across the Gorge from you.

“Do I want to?” he echoed, his voice a bit strained as he pulled you against him a little harder. “Fuck yes, I want to.”

You nod quickly and go to bite down on your lip again before Levi leaned in and connected your mouths once more. His big hands slid up your back under your shirt, and he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin from his touch.

He helped you pull off his jacket and shirt, leaving his chest bare to your eyes when you pulled back to look at him. His thumb traced your bottom lip as your gaze flickered over every inch of his upper half, and you let out a soft sigh. “Fuck…you’re so hot,” you whispered and leaned in to press opened mouthed kisses along his shoulder

Levi groaned under his breath, his head tipping back a bit to give you more access as his hands pulled at your shirt until it was off your body, leaving your top half nearly bare. Your hands were running along his abs and chest when you pulled back and looked at him, your eyes hooded and unguarded.

“Touch me,” you encouraged quietly, and Levi finally let himself indulge in you.

His gaze dropped down to the tops of your breasts that your bra didn’t cover, and he was reminded of the teaser he got that first night when you leaned over the railing. Fuck the view from this angle was even better.

He slid his hands up your back as he leaned his head down and pressed soft kisses to your skin before he buried his face between your flesh. Your moan was music to his ears as he let his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, and he slowly guided the straps down your arms.

“God,” he groaned when the fabric hit the floor, and his hands immediately explored the newly exposed skin of your breasts. “You’re so gorgeous.” he breathed, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebbled at his touch.

You were so beautiful, you took his breath away. Your skin was warm and inviting, begging to be touched and worshipped. By him, of course.

He leaned up and kissed you again when you reached down and unzipped his pants before pushing them down his legs. His tongue brushed against yours as he explored your mouth, and then you pulled away to tug off your jeans and panties, and his lips brushed against your hard nipples before you settled back down on his lap.

Levi was so hard for you, he knew you could feel him through his boxers as you rolled your body against his again as you kissed him and ran your fingers through his hair. You pulled away and tugged his boxers down his legs so you both were completely naked, and the setting sun casted golden hues onto your skin in a way that made you look like something straight out of Heaven.

He knew then that he loved you. He could finally admit it to himself. He loves you.

Levi sucked in a harsh breath when you lowered yourself onto him, your heat enveloping his cock like a glove. “Oh fuck,” he groaned at your tightness, one of his hands caressing your lower back while his other wrapped around the back of your neck.

He guided your face down to his so your foreheads were pressed together, and he was met with the beautiful sound of your moan when you started to slowly ride him. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as your hips rolled against his.

Levi groaned, feeling your tight pussy squeezing him in a way that had him seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. Your chest brushed against his with every slow bounce, and he loved it. He loved all of it, the feeling, the sounds you were making, how good you felt in his arms.

“You feel amazing,” he rasped out, his hands moving down to your ass. “God…don’t stop.” he begged, repeating his earlier words as he met you halfway with shallow thrusts.

Your hands pulled at his hair as you let out loud moans and moved a bit faster on him. “Levi,” you whimpered, and he felt himself twitch deep inside you, because that was the first time he’d heard what his name sounded like coming from you. And he was already obsessed with it.

“Fuck,” he muttered, gripping you a bit tighter as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Say that again. Please, baby.”

You shuddered in his arms, and he had a feeling that you had a thing for pet names, which was definitely something he would keep in mind from here on out.

“Levi,” you moaned again, this time directly into his ear, and he growled lowly, deciding to give you a break as he rolled you onto your side and onto the mattress. He supported himself on his elbow as he began to thrust in and out of you in the new position, his other arm wrapping around you and holding you flush against his chest.

“So tight,” he murmured under his breath, his eyes dark with desire and utter adoration. “So good.”

You moaned a little louder and let him lean down to capture your lips in a messy kiss as he continued to fuck up into you. “Oh, God, you feel so good,” you echoed against his lips as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

Levi could feel you tightening around him, and his hand slid back down to your ass as he pulled you harder against him. “Fuck, I’m close,” he muttered, and you nodded quickly as you ran your hands down his back, your nails leaving faint red lines along his skin.

“Me too,” you whispered, and then he felt you tense up in his arms when he thrust a little harder. Your eyes were nearly shut as you moaned for him, and when he felt you tighten around him even more, Levi leaned in and kissed you quickly before he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, satisfying his own craving as you came around him.

The sound you made went straight to his cock, and his eyes rolled back a bit as he rolled his hips a few more times before pulling out and coming all over your stomach and thigh.

You were shaking and whimpering as you came down from your high, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and him. You looked absolutely breathtaking.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him as he let out heavy breaths. “I’ve never felt anything like that before,” he confessed, his lips brushing against the top of your head as you snuggled against him.

“Me either,” you said back, and he never wanted to leave your side.

An unknown amount of time passed before you and he finally got up and showered together, and his hands never left your body for more than a few seconds. He accidentally let it slip up that he had written a handful of poems about you, and you begged him to read them to you, but he told you he would the next time he got to hold you against him after today.

That was his promise to you. That this was just the first time you and he got to properly see each other. It wasn’t the last.

When the time to go to sleep came, Levi held your body in his arms like you were always meant to be there, and for the first time in a very long time, his nightmares didn’t wake him up.

The next morning, when he was forced to return back to the West side, Levi kissed you until you were breathless, then he was making the trek across the Gorge and back to his own watchtower.

Later that day, just as the sun was starting to set, Levi was well past the point of missing you. He was cold without you, the quiet now louder than ever after the day and night he spent with you.

When he glanced over at your tower, he saw you already looking at him, your notepad held up in your hands, and he sighed.

He could live like this for a little while longer. But after this? After this, he was going to figure out a way to be with you properly. Because he was tired of being alone. He wanted you.

‘I’M COLD AGAIN…MISS YOUR WARMTH ALREADY. AND YOUR LIPS,’

Levi smiled at that and shook his head as he grabbed his whiteboard. He missed all of you already.

Once he’d finished writing down his own message to you, he held it up for you to read, and the smile you gave him was all the reassurance he needed to know that this was real. This was the real thing. And it was just the beginning.

After this, he’d never be alone again.

‘KEEP WARM, BABY. TIL WE MEET AGAIN…ALWAYS THINKING OF YOU.’

Thanks for reading x | @thetorturedpoetcalleddez @broosterradley @spookystitchery @afangirlfandom @different-tale-student @impossibleblizzardstudentposts @shanimallina87

#levi kane #levi kane imagine #levi kane imagines #levi kane x reader #levi kane fluff #levi kane smut #levi kane the gorge #the gorge #the gorge 2025 #the gorge movie #the gorge levi kane #the gorge miles teller #miles teller #levi kane fic

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jeonstellate · 3 months ago

Text

the ghost of monza

there’s a phantom walking around the monza circuit — and oscar seems to be the only one who can see her.

ᯓ★ oscar piastri x fem!räikkönen!reader

ᯓ★ mentions of ghosts & ghostly behaviors

ᯓ★ paragraph format — 3K words

masterlist | the ghost of you masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

ᯓ★ all italian, spanish, & finnish words in this are from google! yn is kimi räikkönen’s daughter, but there are no physical descriptions mentioned.

ᯓ★ this is now the first part of a mini-series, which masterlist is linked above :]

It started on Oscar’s year as Alpine’s reserve driver.

It was a race weekend in Monza, Italy. The weather was great — the sun shone softly behind the clouds, the occasional wind blew like a hug, and there was a low threat of precipitation. It was really the ideal conditions for a Grand Prix for everyone involved.

There was no need for Oscar to fill in for any of the drivers and, thus, he was as relax as he could be.

He was just chilling inside the team’s motorhome, enjoying the relative silence of the hustle and bustle from the sidelines, when the glass door to his right opened from an effortless push of the figure outside. No one bothered to look — nor seemed to have noticed the door open — except for him.

To be fair, he wouldn’t’ve cared, either, had the figure not stood out like a sore thumb being the only red amidst the sea of blue. And if they didn’t look slightly passive — visibly judging, if he squinted hard enough — after sweeping the entire room with just their eyes. It was as if they found the entire Alpine motorhome lacking — or, worse, not worth their time.

Against his better judgment, and with every bit of an unknown force compelling him so, Oscar approached them. "Do you need help?"

He only had time to register the red cap on their head and the RKN boldly printed on the front of their equally red shirt before the person replied with a question of their own. "Is Alonso here?"

Oscar didn’t expect that inquiry at all. Purely based on the amount of red that covered their body, he assumed they were a tifoso who just lost their way to the Ferrari area. Yet, as it turned out, they came in there on purpose.

He weighed the ethicality of divulging a driver’s whereabouts. "He went back out. I’m not sure when he’ll be back."

The stranger nodded once, looking content with the answer he gave despite the vagueness. "Okay. Thank you."

With that, they turned back to the door and out to where they came from. They didn’t even look back to spare him — nor the motorhome — another glance.

It took Oscar two beats of silence to remember what Fernando had announced before the latter completely disappeared from the Alpine area. "If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’m with Seb!"

It took him another beat to run after the stranger. Unfortunately, that three-second delay was enough for them to be out of sight in all the directions he looked.

He went back inside wondering if he merely hallucinated the entire interaction.

It continued onto Oscar’s rookie year in Formula One.

It was another race weekend in Monza, Italy. It was a more guaranteed dry bout than last year, though, with the sun shining a little brighter and no chance of precipitation.

That time around, he was no longer as relaxed, for he was now one of the twenty drivers who would try to take pole to increase their chances of winning the Grand Prix. Add the fact that he still had something to prove with his seat in McLaren— there was really no time for him to completely relax at all.

He did have time to disassociate, though, and let his thoughts wander — albeit they couldn’t stray too far from the race, no matter how many times he tried.

He saw the door to his right open in his peripheral vision. He thought nothing of it, as a lot of people kept coming in and out of the McLaren motorhome for one reason or another.

Except the latest newcomer wasn’t clad in papaya and black — or any other neutral and ‘safe’ colors. They were red. And not just any red, either, but a distinct variation of Ferrari red. They had to be tifoso, for sure.

"Excuse me?" Before he knew it, the tifoso in question was in front of him. They weren’t invading his personal bubble, though, much to his silent gratitude. "Hi."

Oscar reciprocated their greeting after his brain registered that the stranger looked vaguely familiar. "Can I help you?"

"Has Alonso dropped by here today?"

It clicked then where he had seen them previously. They were the same person that inquired the same thing to him last year, back when he was still in Alpine. They were even wearing the same RKN shirt, albeit the red cap had been swapped for a black one.

"No," he shook his head. He considered asking why they were looking for Fernando, but the stranger closed the conversation before he could even make up his mind.

"I see," they say with a nod, reminiscent of their first encounter. As before, they were content with his short and direct answer. "Thank you."

And, like the year previous, they turned back out to the street without sparing him another glance.

Oscar trailed his eyes on their retreating figure, but he didn’t see them go toward any direction after the door closed. Instead, the glass wall merely remained a barrier between the inside of the motorhome and the empty, lifeless street.

It had to be a trick of light.

In hindsight, Oscar was partly to blame for his latest dilemma.

He didn’t have to bring up the vanishing tifoso to Fernando during the drivers’ parade. He didn’t have to assume it’d be a simple, open-and-shut conversation, either. And, yet—

In his defense, it seemed to be the perfect chance to.

He just didn’t anticipate Fernando to look at him like he asked his question in a language he didn’t understand. "No tifoso came to me."

He decided to drop the topic after that. He wasn’t sure if he should clarify or ask for a confirmation. And, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do either — especially considering how the tifoso in question vanished the way they did.

Perhaps it was better that he never got to ask again. That way, he had nothing that resembled a confirmation of a recurring hallucination.

He was fortunate enough to be gifted in compartmentalizing, so his performance wasn’t affected. He might’ve not performed as well as he hoped, but they were blameless on that. That was all him and the car.

Unfortunately, with the race done, he really had nothing else to occupy his mind.

Which meant, in the stillness and silence of his hotel room, the compartment he stored his biggest what-if opened with a bang!

What if he was being haunted by a ghost of Monza circuit?

(That didn’t even make sense. Monza was Ferrari’s territory. And the last time he checked, he didn’t drive for the prancing horse. If anything, a ghost of Monza circuit should be haunting either Charles or Carlos — not him.)

It was a blessing — and a curse — that Formula One kept Oscar occupied enough to effectively keep the ghost of Monza circuit out of his mind.

Because, by Oscar’s second year in Formula One, he had forgotten about his recurring supernatural encounter.

. . . Until the season calendar circled back to Monza, Italy, that was.

"You look like hell, mate." Lando greeted him when they met at the McLaren garage for free practice. "You alright?"

"Yeah," the lie slipped out easily. Coming to work with barely any sleep was normal for him, so he learned long ago how to function with it. It was just rather unfortunate that he was yet to master not looking like he crawled out of hell whenever he didn’t get enough hours. "Just tired."

Although ‘just tired’ wasn’t technically a lie, it still was to an extent. After all, his sleeplessness wasn’t simply caused by jet-lag or anything mundane. Rather, by something he couldn’t exactly explain.

Screw his brain for remembering about the ghost of Monza circuit just when he was about to pass out.

"Oh, yeah," his teammate agreed. None than wiser about his current dilemma. "Immigration ran long last night."

Oscar could only hum in agreement. He wouldn’t be lying anymore if he didn’t respond verbally.

Unfortunately, a part of him didn’t want to leave it at that. "Say, do you believe in ghosts?"

"Why?" Lando’s response might’ve lacked a direct answer, but his body language told him everything he needed to know. "Is there a ghost in your hotel room—"

"No, nothing like that," he interrupted before his teammate thought the worse. It was bad enough that his mind was plagued by such things. He didn’t need Lando to be distracted by it, too, for the sake of their team. "Hattie just got me thinking about it."

There was immense relief when his teammate didn’t question the lie that escaped him so nonchalantly.

He just hoped his sister never gets a wind of him using her as an excuse — or else he’d never hear the end of it.

It would’ve been so easy to ask other drivers, any team members, or pit crew if they’ve seen someone with a RKN shirt around the circuit.

It would’ve been so nice to hear at least person affirm in some way, none the wiser about the magnitude of relief they just bestowed him.

It would’ve been so liberating to be free of the torment of not knowing for certain.

It would’ve been so many things.

But, alas, going around and asking would take a lot of energy. He might have the energy to race and do his job, but he had nothing to spare for satisfying his curiosity. He could do either-or, not both. And he definitely wouldn’t pick the latter if he actually had to choose.

Thus, Oscar settled for the unknown to plague his subconscious. Not in the forefront of his mind whenever occupied with pressing matters, but definitely still triggerable with a word or two.

It should’ve been obvious by now that him sitting idle inside his team’s motorhome was a common factor in all his — quite plausibly — ghostly encounters.

But, alas, the realization merely came when he was, one again, living through an unfaithful replay.

"He’s not here," Oscar replied to another variation of the one question the tifoso always asked.

And like they always did, they accepted his answer as it was. No follow-up questions asked. "Okay."

Only that time, he wasn’t about to just let them leave and disappear again. "I might know where he is right now, though," he quickly added before they express their gratitude and turn away. "I can take you to him?"

The unnamed tifoso thinned their lips as they considered his offer. He took that time to take note of two things: One, they donned a red cap with a ‘7’ embroidered on it and their usually red RKN shirt had been swapped for a white one. Two, the sunlight from the glass wall wasn’t shining through them but on them.

They were not a ghost.

It really had been a mere trick of light.

"I suppose that’s fine."

Oscar’s relief almost manifested into a small smile. He’d be able to sleep comfortably later! "Great. If you’d follow me—"

He opened the door and gestured for them to exit first. They obliged with a subtle nod of acknowledgement, and their — theirs and his — arms touched accidentally. He paid no mind to the electricity that flowed through his skin where they made contact, too focused on counting the brief moment as another proof that the stranger wasn’t anything supernatural.

He led them to the Aston Martin garage, the tifoso following him soundlessly from behind. He made few attempts to walk next to them instead, but they countered with a move of their own every time — which successfully kept them directly behind him. He got the message after the third failed attempt.

He felt like Orpheus on his way out of the Underworld.

"Do you mind if I ask for your name?" He inquired a little louder than his usual talking voice. He wasn’t one for raising his voice unless necessary — and that moment definitely required it. For he had to keep his head facing forward, so he could safely navigate the both of them across the chaos of the paddock.

Amongst the scattered noise all around, he was able to pick out a sound of a reply, "My name’s [first name]."

[First name].

It might’ve taken three years but, finally, he had a name.

Oscar quietly tested their name on his tongue — making sure he was pronouncing it right, before saying it out loud. "Nice to officially meet you, [first name]. I’m Oscar."

He could almost swear he heard them something else in reply, but it was drowned by the noise around them. All he could attest to was a reminiscent of a hum and something that almost sounded like a "Likewise."

In all the overthinking he had done, Oscar had somehow never anticipated how the truth would actually come to be.

Fernando, the first person he hinted about the phantom tifoso, did know [first name]. "Princesa! It’s so good to see you!" Personally, based on the tight hug he engulfed her after that enthusiastic greeting.

"You, too, Nando setä," [first name] greeted back, albeit with less excitement visible in her body language.

Oscar stood there rather awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself. Was he supposed to go now?

"Wait—" The older man suddenly held [first name] at arms’ length. He looked at her up and down, seemingly taking in her outfit. "Are you the tifoso Oscar was talking about?"

"What?"

Fernando turned to him, as if he realized it was a question for him instead of hers. "Is [first name] the tifoso?"

"Yeah," he affirmed. He turned to her, puzzled, "Are you not a tifoso?"

"Only conditionally," she responded with a light shrug. "I don’t typically consider myself one."

"Your outfit says otherwise, princesa." the Aston Martin driver gestured toward the prancing horse on her cap. He nodded in agreement, as the other encapsulated precisely what he was thinking.

[First name] was unfazed. "I just see them as faija’s merch."

Oscar had no idea what ‘faija’ meant but, based on context clues, he’d assume it meant ‘dad.’ Also based on context clues, ‘setä’ probably meant ‘uncle.’ It could also be the other way around, really. Alas, he’d have to confirm later.

"Your papá doesn’t even race anymore—" Or not, since Fernando seemed to have given him the confirmation indirectly— "why do you still insist to wear his merch when you watch me race?"

"I just want to."

He felt an inclination to ask who her father is. Yet, at the same time, he also felt like it was already at the tip of his tongue.

[First name] and her Uncle Fernando watched Oscar leave to return to the McLaren motorhome.

When the Australian driver was nothing but a speck in the sea of paddock chaos, her uncle wasted no time to open the conversation he was most likely dying to have. He probably would’ve kicked Oscar out of the Aston Martin garage, too, if the latter didn’t excuse himself early enough. "Finally got the balls to exchange more than a sentence with him, huh?"

She didn’t move her attention from the direction Oscar disappeared to. "On the contrary, I just didn’t want to refuse his offer."

Her first encounter with Oscar in Alpine had been by chance. She really was looking for her Uncle Fernando then. Her Uncle Sebastian wasn’t in his team’s motorhome down the lane when she dropped by, so she strategically sought out her other uncle. She figured they were likely chitchatting in some corner, as they often did with her dad back when the latter was still in the grid. It was only a matter of narrowing down where they could possibly be.

She didn’t know what it was with the team member that assisted her in Alpine. He just stood out to her much more than the one in Aston Martin. Perhaps it was because he didn’t make her wait for nothing. Or because he was more direct in replying to her query. Maybe it was because he was obviously around her age.

Whatever the case might be, she wasted no time in asking her uncles about the cute boy in Alpine after she sprinted to the garages. It was obvious her uncles immediately caught on what was happening before she even realized it herself. After all, she was a Räikkönen and very much like her father. She wouldn’t use much of her energy if she could help it. At best, she would only willingly use her energy for things that she cared enough about.

The fact that she sprinted just to get a name . . .

(It only took them a wordless glance at each other to unanimously conclude that she got a crush. A firsthand experience in love at first sight, if they wanted to push it.)

"Ay, princesa." Her Uncle Fernando’s disappointment was already distinguishable in just two words. "You backed out again?"

She couldn’t blame him. She planned to be acquainted with Oscar last year but she lost courage at the last second, so she tried again when the calendar restarted. Unfortunately, the same thing occurred. "It’s hard."

"You’re only asking him to be your friend, not for his hand in marriage."

[First name] scoffed at his chosen phrasing of his words of encouragement. She knew he was right, of course, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her agreement. "Maybe I should’ve just listened to faija and stayed away from the paddock."

It was his turn to scoff. "Too late for that. Your papá already approves of Oscar."

Her head snapped toward him in a concerning speed. "What?"

Fernando met her wide eyes with his own sparkling in excitement, as if he had been waiting for that moment for years. "I’ve been sending updates to him and Seb."

#oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 fanfic #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #op81 imagine #f1 imagine #oscar piastri fic #op81 fic #f1 fic #oscar piastri #op81 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren formula one #f1 #formula 1 #formula one

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finelinefae · 1 year ago

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flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop.

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N)

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?"

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night.

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall.

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman.

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her.

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed.

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms.

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked.

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly.

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy."

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'"

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm.

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck. Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals.

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear.

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry.

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did.

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her.

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does.

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her.

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is."

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?"

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door.

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box.

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching.

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened.

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair.

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else.

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine.

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?"

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss.

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered.

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed.

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please,"

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything."

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck.

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck.

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket.

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin.

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon.

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now.

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots.

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her.

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange.

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower,"

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed.

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck.

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?"

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him.

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed.

"You're too cute."

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips.

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt.

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface.

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone."

She smiled.

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things.

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning.

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him.

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard.

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat.

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo.

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly.

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom.

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it.

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth.

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her.

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve.

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush."

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something.

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly.

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?"

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes.

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh.

"Yes daddy," She murmurs.

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave. Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty."

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants.

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers.

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it.

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb.

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful.

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole.

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck.

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut.

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?"

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-"

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand."

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises.

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers.

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting."

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired."

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest.

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily.

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one direction #writing #harry styles writing

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aphrodicci · 4 months ago

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ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ

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before this month ends, the prices for my chart readings are rising! so if you want to get a reading by its current price get it now!

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♇ what is a ruler in astrology?

♇ a ruler in astrology is a planetary ruler, a planet that rules over the sign that takes over a house, for example, someone with pisces in their third house, will have jupiter and neptune as their third house ruler.

♇ my third house is ruled by neptune/jupiter, and neptune is placed in my second house in astrology whereas jupiter is in my ninth house.

mini roast session near the end?

♇ 3H RULER IN THE 1H ⟶ communication is important to these people, and they are usually very intuitive and adaptive. the type to make anyone smile with a thought they express from their mind. they're known to be perceptive and engaging can be the biggest chatterboxes but they're usually willing to help and give advice. natives with this placement are studious and usually envied or always want to be on top of the food chain. they could be the type of people to always care about what the next person thinks of them

♇ 3H RULER IN THE 2H ⟶ these people like to communicate, it gives them a sense of comfort. they could be known to be intelligent with wisdom and spirituality as they're ruled by the hierophant. people with this placement are usually thinking of the next way to make money, they embody mr krabs. they're creative and could earn money through writing/typing, could value their relatives a lot and could be known to be the sibling who spends money on their family as a love language. [might have a tendency to steal].

♇ 3H RULER IN THE 3H ⟶ writers, geniuses and enthusiasts. these people find the fun in debating or piercing through the psychology of other people. they could put off people because of how easily they see through others. people with this placement are interested in learning and other people tend to copy them due to how easily they're able to make up ideas on the spot. they eaisly attract envy but also inspiration. they known how to rhyme and sell a dime and they know how to do a skill better than the next.

♇ 3H RULER IN THE 4H ⟶ people with this allignment are people who are usually thinking for other people. they need to learn how to be selfish and think for themselves sometimes but whenever they do something for themselves there could be a guilt of not being caring enough. people who have their 3h ruler in the 4h might've been put into responsibility at a really young age so all they know is how to take care of others. they have much private thoughts and tend to be the therapist no matter what dynamic circle they're in.

♱ 3H RULER IN THE 5H ⟶ to have this allignment shows that you're always on the go. you could have the need to impress other people, and you could be considered as very flirtatious, people might never know what to take your comments as, comedic or actual serious romantic pinning. people who have this placement are likely attention seekers. they either didnt receive enough attention as a child therefore want it from other people or they're used to receiving attention and cannot handle it when it's not given to them.

♱ 3H RULER IN THE 6H ⟶ when someone has this placement it means anxiety over-load and paranoia. the type of people who always think people have it out for them but sometimes they could be projecting stress to themselves therefore the paranoid mindset. however, these people are very crafty and knowledgable and people might rely on them on the most niche information. they could be devoted to learning, reading or anything that stimulates the brain. their mind could be their own enemies but it could relate to trauma from relatives or school.

♱ 3H RULER IN THE 7H ⟶ to have this placement means that you are someone who is seen as talkative, a charmer and sometimes someone who talks to talk. likes to hear their own voice, but the great thing about you guys is that you can be very persuasive, and even manipulative. you understand the dynamic between humans and know how to adapt to it. these people were likely other people's crush or they crushed on people a lot. sharing bonds with other people you cherish, these people are likely into manifestation.

♱ 3H RULER IN THE 8H ⟶ to have this placement means you are always thinking of ways to protect yourself and have a permanent foundation. person can be easily swayed or have a mind that is not hard to break. could be a bearer of secrets, people usually find themselves wanting to give to said person. could have chaotic bond with relatives, or could be the relative people depend on or treat as the black sheep. this person can have a "taboo" job.

❦ 3H RULER IN THE 9H ⟶ having this placement can indicate that your mind is always on the run. could be the type to question faiths or be very defensive about your own. could get nervous during travelling abroad alone. could be known as the relative who is into research, writing or publishing. could be known as the friend who is into foreign people, religions etc. could be the most open-minded sibling/relative in your home/family, can be a chatterbox and could like to collect books.

❦ 3H RULER IN THE 10H ⟶ could become an influencer, have a relative who is known in an industry. could easily connect to others or always worry about how other people perceive them. could feel a lot of burdens and might be closer to father's side of the family---or father's side of the family was known to have much deceptive people. could be the face of something, known for something specific, could either be the person who follows trends easily yet can easily dominate it. commanding voice, people easily respect them.

❦ 3H RULER IN THE 11H ⟶ could have half/step siblings. popular blog online or could have a lot of accounts. likes to be apart of communities/fandoms, could have a unique speech pattern and could be known as someone who likes to be the devil's advocate. could like to get on people's nerves and be a rebel without a cause. yet people with this placement are very psychic, intuitive and ahead of the curve. others might think they're the most unique person but sometimes they end up sound like basic becky with how much they want to be different.

❦ 3H RULER IN THE 12H ⟶ delusional. loyal to a fault. dreamers! entertainers and weepers. they're connected to the spiritual realm but need to learn how to trust their gut. they beat around the bush and allow their boundaries to be blurred. yet, sometimes the person could be the deceptive one, but people might easily project onto them. other people's envy and jealousy towards them is either easily or slowly revealed the more they speak to them or about them. this placement is also an indicator of being very anxious or having intrusive thoughts, your mind is your down fall, learn how to seperate paranoia from reality.

masterlist

before this month ends, the prices for my chart readings are rising! so if you want to get a reading by its current price get it now!

❦ aphrodicci

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ryescapades-archived · 8 months ago

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*ੈ‧₊༺ "SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM,"

⤷ submission for @pixelcafe-network 's Secret Santa event !

— vice-captain hoshina seems to frequent the infirmary lately... perhaps it has something to do with the division's beloved medic.

characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x medic!reader contents: fluff, some injuries and blood, one(1) suggestive line but it’s for the plot, smooching, kind of getting together, slight spoilers for b side manga, inaccurate manga timeline wc ~ 1.8k

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites happy holidays from me, your secret santa ! 🎄 not christmas-themed but i hope you can still enjoy this humble gift i’ve prepared for you (see the end of this for more messages) <3

Remembering and differentiating people’s faces is usually something that comes naturally to people.

Be it your distant, distant relative, or a newly appointed work colleague, or even a fellow customer at a cafe you love. It’s easy enough to memorise each and every one of them, given that you’ve seen them a few times consecutively, of course.

Then again, it comes with the job to have a good memory anyway. Lots of scientific and biological names to be remembered, health conditions and symptoms to be identified, patients you constantly need to keep your eyes on. You have them all etched inside your mind.

There’s also that other circumstance, where forgetting someone’s face is as easy as brushing away a speck of dust from your clothes. People come, and people go. Not everyone that you’ve come across will stay in your life, and not every one of them will become a significant part of it either.

There is one thing, however, that you have stumbled upon, not knowing that it will become both of those things. Or rather, one person.

The first time you saw him was at the hospital right after the kaiju emergence at Ome city back when you were still a measly apprentice to a senior medic from the Third Division. Tasked to do one of his checkups, you’d overheard his conversation with your captain right before she left the ward.

His reaction baffled you, to say the least. Who in the world would reject a position offered by the Captain Ashiro Mina herself? After a thorough yet uneventful inspection on his condition, he was deemed to be discharged from the hospital a few days after, and along with that his presence from your mind.

Or so you thought.

The second time you saw him was a bit more coincidental. Months after that, when you were freshly appointed as one of the Third Division’s operational medics, you had accidentally crossed paths with him on the way to Captain Ashiro’s office, unaware that you were in the face of your soon-to-be Vice-Captain.

You didn’t know how, or why, but for some astronomical reason you’d remembered who he was. There were lots of people you’d bumped into in the past, people you’d medically treated, and people with even worse haircut (in your defense, that was only a mere observation on your part); you had no trouble putting them to the rear end of your mind as you knew they were nothing more than encounters by chance.

Aside from the fact that he’d rejected your captain’s offer, you’d wondered if there was something else about him from that first time that had rewired the very foundation of your brain chemistry to make you remember him as clearly and easily as memorizing the back of your own hand, even when you’d only seen him once before in your entire lifetime.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoshina Soshiro thought the same thing about you.

What is it about you, Hoshina had once mused. What made you so… unforgettable? Your presence had been lingering in the back of his mind from the moment you first laid your hand on him. After you’d left his ward months ago, the image of you has been foggy and indistinctive, almost haunting for him to deal with. And now that he had you in front of his eyes again, he was more than determined to know more about you.

The two of you hit it off then. One friendly conversation turned two, turned weekly, turned daily. Lingering touches, longing gazes, secret smiles, flirty quips. And the most unambiguous of all; the time spent together in the medic bay at any hour of the day.

It’s becoming a routine at this point for the Third Division members to see their second-in-command walking through the doorway of the infirmary with an injury or the other, some of them severe and some were barely considered a prick. The officers have suspected something, of course. But none of them are bold enough (yet) to confront nor pull the topic out in the open.

And so do you and Hoshina himself.

Though you’re totally aware it’s only a matter of time before one of you finally breaches the blurring line between platonic and romantic. Ironically enough, Hoshina with all his foxy eyed glory, seems to be the one to (not so) blindly step over the said line, all too keen on wiping it off like a silly drawing on a sandy shore.

“Hey there. Ya seem happy to see me,”

You grit your teeth at the cheery greeting, irritation piling over the concern and worry, overstacked by the fear wrecking through your body. Taking a deep breath to gather yourself, you step to the side to let the officers carry the battered body of the Vice-Captain to sit on a nearby bed. Soon enough, they walk themselves out with a respective nod to their superiors, leaving you in the still silence of the infirmary.

In your peripheral, Captain Ashiro stands beside the door with her arms crossed, a calculated look stuck on her youthful face before she straightens up, calling out to your name. “I’m leaving them in your care. I’ll be back in a few though,” Confused, you’re about to ask about what she meant when a mass of white fur enters your vision.

Bakko is staying here for a while then, you realize just as the Captain, too, makes her exit to the door. You let the feline kaiju make himself at home in the infirmary as you return to the task at hand; treating Hoshina.

Your next course of action proceeds swiftly and methodically; assembling the medical supplies and equipment, assessing the injuries, disinfecting the wounds and dressing them accordingly. All the while trying not to squirm under his obnoxious gaze.

“You were never this quiet before,” Hoshina breaks the silence, grimacing slightly as you’re currently treating one of his more severe wounds, one that requires stitching.

Your forehead creases slightly, “What do you want me to say?” You question, both in exasperation and incredulity. The swordsman lifts his good shoulder in a little shrug. “I dunno. Anythin’,”

“You’re stupid,”

Hoshina’s lips twitch slightly, “Mhm,”

“And reckless,”

A small smile tugs on his face next, “Yeah?” Slowly, and breathily.

“And - and… you weren’t being careful enough,” Your bloody hand shakes, the scissors you’re holding barely cutting away the remaining thread after you’d successfully managed to stitch his wound up. “Okonogi already said it was a daikaiju and you still insisted on fighting it alone. Who the hell does that?” You seethe.

One of his hands moves to hold yours, halting you just as you'd turned back from putting your equipment away. “You mad at me, sweetheart?” His nonchalant drawl causes you to snap. “I thought you were going to die, Soshiro. Of course I was mad!”

Suddenly there’s a quiet growl rumbling from the corner of the room, and the both of you immediately go silent. You look to the side to see Bakko with his mouth pulled into a menacing snarl, eyeing the other slumbering patients as if to remind you that you’re not the only ones in the room.

You huff, slightly embarrassed at being chastised in your own work space. By a kaiju, of all things.

Hoshina gruffly snickers before glancing at the feline, “He’s not Captain Ashiro’s companion for nothin’, huh? Think he can help around in the infirmary?” He jests.

You chuckle weakly, nodding a little at his injuries. “What, do you want him to lick it all better?”

It was supposed to be a joke, a casual inquiry made to lighten the mood, but Hoshina seems to think otherwise. With his bleary eyes, he murmurs, “I want you to lick it all better,”

Your breath stutters, the heart in your chest skipping a beat or two. Or maybe three? You can’t really seem to figure it out when all you know is that the blood pumping in your veins feels like you’re running a goddamn marathon around the division base.

Your body heats up at the way Hoshina’s gaze remains focused on you, those irises seeping with such intensity and passion, finely rich like wine and sangria. There’s a pull so magnetic, the minimal space where you’re starting to share breaths with him is charged with the tension between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his mouth for one quick second. A mere glance, shy and timid. And the next thing you know, you and Hoshina become a clashing of lips, wandering hands and blissful sighs.

Like a collision between two worlds; the connection feels intensely mind-blowing, like a surge of adrenaline that has you forgetting about everything else aside from feeling him, tasting him, consuming him. Your fingertips tingle from where you’re cradling his face in your hands, and electric zaps up your spine from where his hands are gripping you by your hips.

Your lips slide against his in a feverish dance, his tongue diving in to explore each and every crevice of your mouth. Another pleased sigh escapes from you when he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the skin with a gentle suck right after. Hoshina hums against your mouth, pulling you to stand even closer between his legs but a pained groan from him then makes you draw back, the desire to continue ravishing each other now replaced with a budding sense of concern.

“You’re pulling on the stitches,” you mutter, fingers lightly prodding at his medically patched skin. Hoshina shakes his head slightly and drops it to rest on your shoulder as he grunts under his breath, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

You falter, a furious blush creeping up to your cheeks at his statement. ‘Why didn’t you do it sooner, then?’ You’d wanted to ask but just as he raises his head, you catch sight of the bloody handprints on both of his cheeks. You gasp in surprise, “Soshiro, you’re—”

You reach up to hold his face, though when you see your own hands stained with the blood from his wounds, a small laugh of realisation comes out of you. Hoshina snorts a little when he deduces the same thing, the room now filled with your combined giggles.

“All the more reason to stay here longer and get myself cleaned up, hm?” He smirks and leans back with his arms perched on the bed. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, staring not-so-subtly at his slacked figure.

More work for you to do… not like you’re complaining anyway because he does not have any business looking so sinfully good with all those muscles and bare skin all roughed up and bloodied like that.

You inwardly shake your head to disperse the thought. Throwing him an eye roll, you scold him for moving around too much in case his injuries get worse, and that he should know better than to stay out of commission for longer than necessary considering his importance in the division.

Deep down, though, you’re glad that Hoshina Soshiro is there with you in more ways than one, holding your hand as you trudge through this new relationship blossoming between you two.

He stays, and he is significant. Forever will be in your lovesick little heart.

taglist open!

bakko is just there like 👁️👄👁️

💌 ; kaija my dear i’m so happy that i get to know you through the cafe network <3 really enjoyed all the convos we’ve had in the kn8 channel and i appreciate u sm !! you’re so sweet and so delightful to talk to and i thought that you are just the perfect person to be soshiro’s favorite doctor / nurse ^^ you seem like the type who'd be good at taking care of people, especially your loved ones. bet he goes to the infirmary a lot just to see u hehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) anyway, i hope 2024 has been nice to you. i wish you all the good things in the world, and that 2025 will be a better and sweeter year for you, love 💜

#hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x you #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x you #kn8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no.8 #kn8 x you #🥣 rye works #1kakes event 🎂

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lovemomhatepolice · 4 months ago

Text

drivers licence - f1 drivers multi!

navigation taglist requests

pairing: f1 drivers x fem!reader

warnings DRIVERS LICENCE, swearing, English is my second language

belonging: f1 drivers multi!

type: fluff, some are a little angst

summary: short stories about how a particular driver would teach you driving (or try)

more content: formula 1 masterlist, lando norris first meeting, max verstappen nswf alphabet 2

charles leclerc

“Are you sure you know how to park?” [Y.N] teased him, buckling her seatbelt, while Charles combed his hand through his hair, already exasperated.

“Of course I know how to park,” he muttered, putting the car in reverse gear. “It's just… sometimes I misjudge space,” he said.

“Sometimes?” she snarked, scrolling through countless memes on her phone depicting Charles' parking failures. “You're literally known for that.”

Charles groaned. “Fine, fine, laugh all you want, but today I'm the teacher and you're the student.”

“That's what worries me,” she said, smiling.

They were in an almost empty parking lot, Charles having chosen the safest place imaginable to prevent any disaster. He turned to her with the most serious expression on his instructor's face.

“All right. First, check the mirrors. Then slowly…”

“I know how mirrors work, Charles,” interrupted [Y.N].

“Let me teach you! - He growled, before continuing. “Now gently turn the steering wheel while reversing. Feel the car, control the movement and…”

The car jerked violently backward, causing him to grab the seat in terror. In response, it additionally turned off, causing silence in the car for a brief moment.

“[Y.N]!” the Monegasque shouted, looking at his girlfriend.

[Y.N], despite her slight dismay, burst out laughing. “You said to feel the car!”

“Not like that! You want to crash my Ferrari?!”

“You have a whole garage.” She then looked at him indulgently and put her hand on his shoulder. “Besides, Ferrari will give you 10 more of these if you ask.”

Charles looked at his girlfriend, not at all convinced, and nodded toward the ignition keys to start the car back up. “Come on,” he muttered, tilting the window. “We have to finish this before it gets dark.”

Then she followed his instructions more carefully this time, the car smoothly backing into the spot. She stopped and looked at him expectantly.

Charles inspected it, then tilted his head. "Hmm. A little crooked, but—"

"It's better than your parking," she quipped.

He groaned, dropping his head against the seat. "Remind me why I’m teaching you again?"

"Because you're my boyfriend, and I need to learn from the best," she said sweetly before adding, "Well, relatively speaking."

Charles shook his head with a smile. "Alright, fine, but you owe me something,” he laughed lightly, looking in her direction.

“Is a kiss enough?” she asked, laughing under her breath and moving closer to him to then join their lips in a kiss.

“More than enough” muttered the man, smiling into her lip

—————

kimi antonelli

Kimi sat down in the passenger seat, clasping his hands in his lap so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

[Y.N] smiled sweetly. “Relax, you just got your driver's license. You can pass on your wisdom to me, it's fresh.”

“That's exactly why I'm scared.” - he muttered under his breath. “I gained it so quickly, I don't want to lose it any sooner.”

They parked in a quiet neighborhood, where the most dangerous thing on the road was an elderly man walking his dog. But for Kimi it might as well have been Monza at full speed.

“Okay,” [Y.N] said cheerfully after a moment of silence, putting the car into first gear. “Let's go!”

The car shot forward as if it had been launched off the grid. The girl knew more or less what she was doing, since she had already had some lessons with a real instructor, but who would disdain free lessons with her boyfriend?

Her daring drive through a small intersection was interrupted by a terrified Kimi, who looked as if he had been forced to drive. Not at all, like a professional driver who just got into Formula One - the most prestigious and perhaps also dangerous racing in the world.

“OH MY GOD-[Y.N], BRAKE!”.

She pressed the brake and they both moved forward. Kimi instinctively grabbed the dashboard as if it were a life raft.

“Okay,” she said, panting. “A little too much gas. I understand, too extreme for you.”

Kimi exhaled slowly. “Mi ucciderai!.”

She giggled. “Don't be dramatic! You drive race cars!”

“Yes, but at least I know what I'm doing!

Ignoring him, she started the car again, this time more gently. Kimi started breathing again, but just at the moment he relaxed his fists….

She reached a traffic circle. There was nothing difficult about it, she even thought it was the best she could do for now. Yet all it took was a moment of inattention and the girl drove into the wrong lane, admittedly not causing any collision, but enough to make Kimi gasp for air again.

“Pull over to the side,” - he said weakly, but the girl initially ignored him, continuing to drive. “[Y.N], please, I'm too young to die. I just got a Formula 1 seat!"

As she pulled over to the side of the road, Kimi slumped back in his seat, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. “I've never been so scared in my life. Not even in my first F4 race.”

[Y.N] burst out laughing. “Come on. It wasn't that bad,” she said.

Kimi turned to her with his eyes wide open. “We drove for five minutes and I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Suddenly he began to gesture, at which the girl had to hold back her laughter. Sometimes she forgot that her boyfriend was Italian.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “So you mean to say that … I just need more practice?

Kimi groaned and leaned his head against the seat. “I'll never get into a car with you again.

“Even if I pass the first time?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and looking at her boyfriend.

Kimi looked at her, looked at the car, then sighed in defeat. “I have to make a will first.”

—————

oscar piastri

“All right,” Oscar said, buckling up and looking ahead with his usual focused expression. “Parallel parking. It's not difficult. Just follow my instructions exactly,” he said.

[Y.N], sitting in the driver's seat, looked at him sideways. She smiled under her breath, seeing his confident expression. “You sound so self-assured.”

“Because I'm pretty confident, and even more so that you can do it.” - he replied matter-of-factly. “Now pull up next to this car.

She did so. A little crooked, but enough to fit in.

Oscar sighed, but said nothing. This was their first, if you can call it a lesson. “Good. Now turn the steering wheel all the way to the right and start reversing slowly.”

She carefully followed his instructions, and her hands gripped the steering wheel as if her life depended on it. The car began to reverse.

“Good,” nodded Oscar, smiling slightly at her. “Now straighten the steering wheel. You're doing great.”

She tried.

Oscar's eyes narrowed. “No, no, no, you're going too far. A little to the left - no, not so much! Right again - no, no - stop!”.

The car came to an abrupt stop. [Y.N] squirmed, looking sideways at Oscar. “Oops.”

Oscar breathed, pinching the back of his nose. “It's okay, it's okay. I put too much pressure on you. We just need to improve the angle.”

As he started to drive it again, a car pulled up behind them and honked. Oscar immediately went into a fighting mood, although of course he didn't show it from himself, but only made a snearky comment.

Oscar turned his head. “Are you serious?”

She looked in the mirror. “Uh… should I-?”

“No. Stay where you are,” he said in a flat voice.

The driver behind them honked again.

Oscar clenched his jaw and muttered more to himself than to the man behind the window. “Buddy, we're clearly parking. Get around us.”

The driver didn't move, and Oscar rolled down his window and looked at him with a crooked look. "Unbelievable. An old man who doesn't know the rules of the road. And he still thinks he'll impress someone with his expensive car."

[Y.N] bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Oscar, I just…"

"No, because what's his problem?" he continued, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Does he think that honking will magically make you park faster?"

She turned to him, amused. "You sound more pissed off than I am."

Oscar crossed his arms. "Because it's annoying. People in normal traffic are worse than race drivers, I swear. And he honks at my girlfriend, let him go fuck himself."

Finally, the car behind them gave up and drove off. Oscar watched as it disappeared down the street, still clearly irritated. Then, he sighed contentedly and looked at [Y/N] with an encouraging nod.

“Okay,” he mumbled, exhaling. “Let’s go back to the parking lot.”

With his instructions (and fewer distractions), the girl managed to park the car perfectly. She looked at him happily, seeing his satisfaction.

“Did I do it?”

Oscar checked. He nodded. “Yeah. Nice on, you did well without that jerk in the back.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to teach me, you spent most of your time yelling at other drivers.”

Oscar shrugged. “Well, if people knew how to drive, maybe I wouldn’t have to. They drive worse than Carlos, who pushes around on the track.”

She rolled her eyes, but leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the lesson, coach Piastri."

—————

max verstappen

[Y.N] sat in the driver's seat, arms crossed, staring at the steering wheel as if she had personally insulted her. Her eyes were watering and her lips were pursed in a grimace. It had been over five minutes since the girl had turned off the car and had sat in silence as she hit the traffic cone on the maneuvering yard yet again.

Max, sitting in the passenger seat, watched her breakdown in silence, allowing her to take offense.

Finally, she sighed dramatically. "I'll never pass."

Max winked. "Okay."

She turned to him indignantly. "Okay? Is that all you have to say?"

"Would you rather I lied?" he asked slightly mockingly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Don't stress out so much. It's just a driving test."

"Just a driving test?" She caught her breath. "Max, you're a professional driver. You wouldn't get this."

He raised his eyebrows. "I became a Formula 1 driver before I even got a regular driver's license."

[Y.N] paused. "What's that supposed to mean? Should I just give a fuck and become a Formula 1 driver?"

He smirked. "You really could. The Formula Academy is growing, such a pretty and a smart woman would fill the spot perfectly."

Max sighed, reaching up to adjust her hands on the wheel. “Stop thinking too much. I’ll explain this to you properly.”

She sniffed. “Really?”

“Yeah, but if you cry while you learn, you won’t get anywhere. You’ll definitely not see the cones.” He smiled weakly at her, which she returned.

He led her through it step by step—slowly, methodically, making sure she understood each part before moving on. When she got frustrated, he’d crack a joke to lighten the mood.

By the end of their lesson, [Y.N] had managed to do the task flawlessly, even several times in a row, so she smiled happily to herself as she parked her car on the side of the parking lot.

She turned to him, her eyes widening. "Did you see that?! I did it!"

Max smiled at her and clapped his hands. "Amazing. A true performance by a world champion."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Shut up."

He smiled pityingly. "You're not as bad as you think. I'd say you're good, it's just that you have too much on your mind and stress is eating you up. You'll pass in no time."

The girl looked at him and smiled at her boyfriend, fixing her hair. "Thank you Max," she said, grabbing his hand. "Time to go home."

"I'm driving," Max muttered, opening the passenger door and stepping outside.

“Thank God,” the girl laughed, repeating his steps.

A/N: first part of the driving license stories. two more to come. I keep my fingers crossed that you had fun. Any feedback is welcome

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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enderlovez · 7 months ago

Note

can you write Spencer Reid and his secret girlfriend that's a nurse/doctor, when the team comes back from a mission and reid is injured they all go to the hospital and they see them two flirting and figure it out

(sorry idk how to phrase it)

also can you tag me when it's out?

Kiss It Better

Spencer Reid x Nurse Reader

WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer gets injured on a case. Imagine his team's surprise when they come to see him and find his nurse flirting with him.

Content Warning: hospitals, Spencer got hurt on a case, probably a whole lot of medical inaccuracies, stitches and needles

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer sits on the edge of the hospital bed, his button-up shirt and cardigan draped over the back of a chair, leaving his undershirt rolled up past his elbow. His thighs are parted so you can stand between them, cleaning the small gash on his arm, your gloved fingers brushing over his skin with the gentlest touch.

"You know," you begin, your tone lightly teasing, "for someone with your IQ, you're really bad at stay out of trouble."

Spencer chuckles softly, though his ears turn a shade of pink. "It's not exactly something I plan for," he defends quietly, good arm wrapped loosely around your waist. "Besides, statistically, my injury rate is relatively low for the kind of work I do."

You glance up at him, a brow raised. "Spencer, you've been here three times in the last two months. At this rate, I should really just set up a reserved bed for you."

"Maybe I just like the company," he quips, and now it's your turn to blush slightly.

"Flirting isn't gonna get you out of a lecture about taking better care of yourself," you reply, tying off the final stitch and cutting the rest of the thread off. "There we are. Good as new."

Spencer watches as you peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin. Everything you do seems to catch him off guard, even after months of... well, whatever this thing between you two has become.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmurs.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. "I just stitched up a cut. Pretty sure that doesn't qualify as amazing."

"To me, it does," he counters, his gaze soft as he watches you walk around the room. "You're brilliant and kind and—"

"—And wondering why you're still sitting here," you cut him off with a grin, moving back to your previous spot between his thighs and holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "Don't you have a team to get back to?"

As if on cue, the door swings open, and a group of people spills into the room, their voices a mix of concern and exhaustion.

"Reid, how's—" a man with a shaved head starts, but immediately stops again, his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between the two of you.

The room grown awkwardly silent as they take in the scene: you standing between Spencer's legs—closer than any medical professional should be with their patients, his unbandaged arm hung loosely around your waist.

"Oh," says a woman with dark hair and a wicked smirk. "This is interesting."

Spencer shifts uncomfortable but doesn't quite move away. "Guys, this is—uh—this is Doctor L/N. She was just... patching me up."

"Patching you up, huh?" the man from before drawls, a teasing lilt in his voice, his grin widening. "Looks like a little more than that to me."

You straighten and take a step back, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the heat crawling up your neck. "Doctor Reid is in good shape now. He'll need to keep the stitches dry for a few days, but the cut wasn't too deep."

The blonde woman in the back raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. "Thank you, Doctor L/N," she says politely before her attention shifts to Spencer. "Though I have to admit, considering his arm got cut open, this is the first time we've seen him quite so... comfortable."

Spencer groans, his head falling slightly forward. "Can we not do this here? Please?"

"Oh, we're doing this," the dark-haired woman says, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"

"Emily," Spencer pleads, his voice laced with something somewhere in-between exasperation and resignation.

You glance between then, suddenly feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I'll just—uh—leave you all to it," you say quickly, stepping toward the door.

Spencer's hand shoots out, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. "Wait—"

But you shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. "It seems you've got enough explaining to do without me making it harder."

As you slip out and shut the door, you hear the inevitable teasing start.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The hallways is surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos inside, and you take a moment to collect yourself. You've grown used to Spencer's shy smiles and occasional compliments, but seeing him surrounded by his team—people who clearly adore him and who are incredibly perceptive—feels like stepping into a spotlight you hadn't anticipated.

You're about to head back to the nurses' station when the door opens again, and Spencer emerges, wearing all his clothes and his cheeks still faintly red.

"They're never going to let this go," he says, running a hand through his hair.

You bite back a laugh. "I can see why. You should've warned me they'd be so observant."

"I was trying to keep things simple," he admits, stepping closer, "but apparently, we weren't as subtle as I thought."

"Subtle?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically glowing in there, Spencer! You were quite literally holding onto me."

He grins sheepishly. "I can't help it. You make me happy. I like being close to you."

Your heart does a little flip at his words, but you roll your eyes for his benefit. "Well, now that they know, I'm sure the rest of your team will, so I guess our secret's out."

"They'll adjust to the idea," he says lightly. "And for what it's worth, I don't mind them knowing. I'm proud to be with you."

You smile, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his. "I'm proud to be with you, too. Even if it means getting interrogated by the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Spencer laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "They'll get over it. Probably."

"Probably?" you echo, laughing with him as you start walking back to the nurses' station.

He shrugs, his hand brushing against yours as he keeps pace. "I think Morgan might take longer. But that's okay. I'm not in any hurry."

@priv-rose

#spencer reid x girlfriend reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x nurse reader #nurse #hospital #spencer reid x you #enderlovez

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softsunnyy · 23 days ago

Text

5 moments

5 moments with your bf Lando or... 5 moments where he couldn't keep his hands off you.

🚨 smut, fluff, poor humor, Lando being obsessed with you, probably cringe, lots of kissing, the second scenario is a spoiler for another thing i'm working on rn!! 🚨

my man won!! i'm still crying about it

3,9k words.

sleepy hands

Lando has always been affectionate with you. Even when you were just friends, he always hugged you, holding you close, with a hand on your shoulder or waist as if he belonged there. So, when you started dating, this wasn't strange anymore; it just became more... intimate. And that's how, in everyday situations, Lando was stuck to you like gum, with his hands on different parts of your body, transmitting his warmth to you.

still, this was still something relatively private for you, at least the most intimate moments. So, it was a surprise when Max walked into your room, since he expected to find you sleeping peacefully. In fact, he was recording with his phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, ready to disturb you two and start the day. But the scream he let out showed his obvious fear when he thought he was interrupting something.

and you two weren't naked, not exactly. Your boyfriend wasn't wearing a shirt, but that's not particularly unusual. What is unusual for Max is the way his friend's hand is inside your shirt, confidently and comfortably grabbing your tit, while his face is hidden in your neck at the same moment that you let out a contented sigh. And of course, from the outside, that seemed surprising at first glance, but it was actually Max himself who woke you up, and you slowly opened your eyes, quite confused and sleepy, feeling Lando gently squeeze your tit with his hand before gently sliding it down.

Lando looked at Max, annoyed for his interrupted sleep, not understanding the commotion. "the hell are you doing here?" he asked in his hoarse, raspy voice, with his hand drawing small, invisible shapes on your skin, making you stop being tense.

"Max, it's too early. What are you doing?" you mumbled, tired, trying to go back to sleep

“well, i thought you were having sex, but…” Max began his explanation, which made your eyes widen and Lando almost choke.

“what?” your boyfriend asked, not letting his friend finish, “and you decided to come in here to spy on us?”

“no, mate!” Max complained, putting his phone away and leaving the water bottle on your nightstand. “I wanted to bother you, and when i came in, i thought you were having sex or something,” he mumbled this time, visibly embarrassed.

“why?” you asked, confused, lazily rubbing your eyes and bringing your body closer to your boyfriend's warmth.

“his hand was on your tit, he's shirtless…” he began to list in response.

“i was comfortable. Have you never touched a tit in your life?” Lando answered grumpily.

“well yeah, but not while sleeping, mate.”

Lando mumbled something about not having fun, but the tension had already eased, and it didn't take long for Max to leave the room, leaving the two lovers back in their bubble.

now you'd turned around, facing your boyfriend, and moving a hand to his hair, lazily playing with his curls. You watched as he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, enjoying your attention as he moved his hands to your back, leaving gentle caresses and holding you as close as possible.

you were both considering going back to sleep, but Max's knocking on the door woke you up again, eliciting a groan from Lando, who said something about committing a crime against his friend.

his hand, unconsciously and slowly, had crept back up your side, reaching just below your tit, which he touched again, gently squeezing, pushing up your shirt and making your skin prickle, causing you to let out a small moan.

even so, with the cold and all, you didn't want to push him away, because this was just part of everyday life. You always wake up with his hands all over you, and you wouldn't want it any other way, even if it means you'll look like a hormonal couple fucking in front of their friends.

Max will get over it, you thought.

of course... not without first telling it on stream, taking the opportunity to annoy his friend, and providing quality content to their fans, who didn't hesitate to spread this across social media, feeding off ideas and theories about what your relationship is like off-camera.

[...]

i ate and trained like lando norris for 24 hours ft. you

“I don’t think this is really fair, to be honest,” Ginge said, looking pained, and Ethan whimpered beside him. Both of them watched as you cheated, getting help from Lando to get the ideal position for the plank.

Not that you really needed it, but it was an excuse for him to get his hands on you like he loves to do.

“oh, shut up,” you laughed, seeing that there were still a couple of seconds left until the task was over, and feeling your boyfriend’s hands holding you firmly.

“he’s not wrong, tho,” Ethan groaned this time, and you could hear Lando chuckling softly.

“a little higher you two, you're falling,” you heard him say mockingly, and you saw how they both quickly tried to improve their position, though their arms were a little shaky and their faces were red and sweaty.

“all this because you're a dirty bastard,” you heard Ginge say as the seconds continued to tick by.

“come on, just 10 more seconds!” Lando tried to encourage them. “It's a nice warm-up… oh, don't go down, up, up,” he instructed, one of his hands remaining firmly on your abdomen, keeping you elevated.

“5, 4, 3, 2… 1,” Lando counted down until he finally helped you stand up, watching as both of his friends remained on the floor, moving a little more slowly. “you okay, mate?” he mocked Ginge, to which he glared at him, slowly sitting up.

“you can fuck off,” he replied, making him laugh again.

and the following exercises were similar, with your boyfriend always paying attention to your posture, your movements, and helping you warm up as safely and efficiently as possible while his friends struggled alongside you, trying to complete the exercises while mocking you both.

and Lando’s hands stayed glued to your body the entire time, so much so that even people who watched the video once it was posted took the time to talk about it in the comments.

still, their favorite moment was when it came the neck training, because Ginge and Ethan didn't miss the opportunity to crack jokes, mostly intended to make Lando giggle and make you blush. Two fairly simple things for them.

“oh, i have to get the things in my room, give me a second,” your boyfriend said for the second time, quickly walking to your room.

“why do you have all that stuff in your room?” Ethan asked in a suspicious tone, looking at you as if you could give him a precise explanation.

“well…”

“what kind of freaky stuff do you two do in your free time?” Ginge asked this time, making you laugh.

“you’re such a creep,” you said, still laughing, as you heard Lando’s footsteps returning to where you all were.

and while you were trying to do the exercise, Lando showed how incredibly protective and sweet he can be with you, forbidding his friends from touching the rope while you were sitting there, as he was the only one allowed to touch it. A completely different case from when they wanted to try it out together, since they were allowed to do it then.

and people had the chance to see everything from the lightest touches to the most notorious, ranging from a funny video to also a glimpse of what your relationship is like outside the world of glamour and Formula 1.

they had the opportunity to see Lando seek your attention, standing next to you whenever he could, as close as possible, until your arms and shoulders touched, or even wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close even when he was giving instructions.

they even saw moments like at lunch, when you were going to sit at the table with everyone else and your boyfriend pulled out your chair for you, leaving it almost right next to his, which didn't even earn any mockery from the other two boys, thanks to this being so typical between you that people who know you usually don't even react anymore.

they also had the opportunity to see the dynamic between you and Ginge and Ethan, who, despite the jokes, never tried to push any lines, showing respect for you and even whispering to each other (forgetting the microphones) about how lonely it can get watching your routine.

the entire video was filled with romance and humor, as well as gentleness, deep gazes filled with love and appreciation, as well as light, protective, and reassuring touches. So it wasn't surprising when it started trending a few days later, with people talking about you so much that even Max took the opportunity to poke fun at you on a stream, taking advantage of the fact that he was with Lando, who just smiled and tried to avoid the topic and the jokes.

unintentionally, you had made a video that revealed a more intimate side of your relationship, showing how much you need each other and how incredibly in love is Lando.

[...]

Max's stream

Max and you were just talking at this point in the stream, now much more exhausted and reading the chat comments to find more topics to talk about. It was at that moment that he read one of the questions and turned to look at you with a smile, already knowing the possible answer.

“when are you and Lando going to get a dog?” he read aloud, hearing you whine next to him, wincing.

“right now i think never,” you pouted slightly. “I think i'll just have to be happy stealing Leo from Alex's arms.”

Max laughed, glancing at the chat for a moment before looking at you again. “But is it because of Lando? he doesn't want to?”

“yeah, well, actually, we both have to travel a lot, and Lando says he wants to be a good dad, not one who stresses his son with so many planes and people while his attention is elsewhere,” you explained, now a little more seriously so your words are not misinterpreted.

“but you have more time now, don’t you?” he asked genuinely, to which you nodded, doubtful.

“yes, but realistically, i still wouldn't have enough time, and i want our future baby to have all the love and attention possible, not just when their parents have time,” you sighed.

now, during this entire exchange, neither of you heard Lando's footsteps entering the house, so you had no idea he was listening, leaning against the door frame, away from the camera. So when you sighed, he approached, hugging you from behind, causing you to jump in your seat and Max to start insulting him.

“for gods sake mate,” he complained, hearing Lando let out a small laugh as he hid his face in your neck, only letting you see the mess in his curls.

“hi, baby,” you murmured, placing a kiss on his head as you heard him sigh, happy and much more relaxed having you around.

“we summoned the devil,” Max told the chat, which had already gone crazy at the man’s appearance.

he then realized that some people were pointing at his friend for how attached he is to your body, comparing it to the video that had recently been released. “People are discovering a new side of you.”

“uh?” he hummed, not moving a bit.

“since the video came out, people are finally starting to understand the torture i have to watch so often,” Max began to explain, clearly joking as he looked at you, and you just smiled, blushing a little. “He doesn’t even move away from her a couple of inches when she’s here. They’re so cute i wanna throw up my lunch every time i’m near them.”

and some of it was true, and the people present on the stream noticed it more than ever. And although they don't know if it was because Lando was out of the house all day, or because he wanted to annoy Max, no one can deny the way his hands were always on you, whether on your waist, your shoulders, your hair, even when the attention wasn't on you. It was as if he needed to have you as close as possible, almost anxiously, only calming down and relaxing his shoulders when your skin touched his.

of course, this isn't something that bothers anyone, and they understood that when the next day they woke up filled with edits, both from the recent stream and the video... and some old streams that people watched again to see if Lando had always been this clingy to you.

the answer is yes, by the way.

[...]

fancy dinner

going out to dinner with Lando isn't something you're unfamiliar with, as he'll always be happy to take you on dates, to reserve places for the two of you, even if it's not the most elegant place, although in this case it is, but with good reason.

celebrating another year together is something to be remembered, to be mentioned, and to be celebrated in the best way possible, so of course he was going to take you to that restaurant you like; the one where the waiters are nice, the music is relaxing, the decor gives you calm, and despite the elegance, it doesn't make you feel like you have to put on a facade and behave outside your comfort zone.

also, occasions like this make it easy to dress differently, a little far from fresh, from comfortable; wearing a beautiful dress, accentuating your body, which isn't always to your liking, but which now makes you feel confident, beautiful, and very special.

and Lando always reacts positively too. Gosh, you even have to stop him from canceling dinner just to stay and admire how you look.

so it's all worth it when dinner is filled with laughter; with small, loving smiles and a sparkle in your eyes that's completely undeniable.

and you're not loud, there aren't any extremely loud giggles, or small punches on his arm when Lando tells a dirty joke. No. It's as if everything flows delicately; as if you're suddenly in a bubble of elegance, of tranquility, of domesticity. And it doesn't surprise you, because after years by his side, you know he's versatile, that he's not always the playful boy, chased by overwhelming and beautiful chaos, but sometimes there's this version, one who reserves more for you, where he gives you his full attention, and looks at you as if you were his greatest gift in life, with words full of sweetness, of a loving tone, and undeniable affection.

[...]

still, there's one thing you know you can't demand from your boyfriend... and that's that he control himself at all times. It's a difficult task, because you know he can't take his hands off you, and that when his attention starts to shift, his eyes will travel down your body, and then part of that playful Lando will inevitably return. That's why you're not surprised after when his hand is on your thigh, first resting there, giving small caresses with his thumb, but then moving up and down, sliding, squeezing your skin, and enjoying the way your breathing hitches, the way you look at him with your eyes wider, your cheeks flushed, and placing your hand on top of his.

and it's Lando, you know his routine, you know his patterns, so you just wait for it. First it's the hand on your thigh, then a kiss on your shoulder; his smile growing bigger; then the kiss on your hand, on your wrist... and then clingy Lando returns, in front of everyone, not caring who sees, just enjoying knowing that you're there celebrating your relationship, knowing that you're his, that you chose him, and that he can take the liberty of touching you like that, something no one else ever can, because he's not about to let you go easily.

and the people there who notice just smile, because they already know you, they've already seen this happen, and each time it happens only reaffirms the love they see between the two of you, completely undeniable. Because even though Lando doing this makes you nervous, you never stop him; you just smile, feeling a warmth in your chest, and feeling like the luckiest person on the planet.

[...]

British Grand Prix

watching Lando win the Grand Prix at his home race brought tears to your eyes as you hugged your friends; hearing Max's euphoric words in your ear, and vibrating with the atmosphere that was set up to celebrate him. Your boyfriend. The one whose voice cracks while talking on the radio, and who gets out of that car with a smile from ear to ear, receiving hugs and congratulations from his team.

and nothing can take the warmth out of your chest as you smile, celebrate, and see him on the podium, receiving the award he'd fought so hard to win.

it's a completely different feeling, far from any other race. Far from Miami, Monaco, Australia. The joy you feel now is so big that you can't help but jump into his arms as soon as you're near him, listening to his laughter, full of joy, pride and relief, while his hands caress your back and he buries his face in your neck, leaving small kisses there.

you don't even care about his wet hair, his clothes still sticky from everything. You can't tear yourself away from him, like a constant euphoria that has you moving all over the place, much more hyperactive than ever before.

and he notices it. Of course he notices. He's never seen you like this before, which makes his smile even bigger. However, it's not enough. He needs to celebrate alone with you, have a moment just for him, away from the cameras, the crowds, and the celebrations.

Lando needed a few minutes alone with his girl, so he was going to get it.

that's why he took advantage of the first moment you could leave, using the excuse to change clothes, get ready, and rest a little before going to dinner together. And you didn't know it, no, you were just taking off your clothes at that moment when suddenly you felt his arms on your waist, while he pressed his chest against your back.

in the mirror, you can see he's smiling, shirtless, and looking closely at your body from top to bottom, as if the real prize lay behind your bra, calling out to him, tempting him.

"you know? we still have time..." he said in a low, suggestive tone, placing small kisses on your shoulder, slowly moving closer to your neck, where he sucked gently, making your skin prickle and a small gasp escape your lips.

"Lan, we have to change..." you said, sighing afterward, and without making much of an effort to push him away from you, making him smile a little wider.

"we'll be quick, i promise," although you knew better than to believe him.

even so, you know Lando would never make any advances if he knew you weren't really feeling it, so you decide to stop playing hard to get, giving in to the temptation, and feeling his hands slide until they reach your tits.

seeing that the fabric was interrupting his fun, he lifted your bra until they were free, quickly putting his hands on them; squeezing, playing with your nipples and stretching them, as if they were a toy, while you sighed contentedly, letting him be.

and he lingers, enjoying how your nipples harden, and how you moan louder and louder the more he stimulates them, causing you to unconsciously move back, rubbing against him, and making it harder for him to hold back the urge to take you right there.

then he lowered one of his hands, slowly, torturing you until he finally reached his favorite spot between your legs, running his fingers over your pussy, which is still covered by your panties. And your body reacted; the fabric now had a darker patch, and you can feel yourself getting wetter, needing your boyfriend.

and now your hole throbs, your pussy drools for him, but he touches you slowly, applying pressure, making the fabric stick to your folds, turning it darker and wetter, and making his fingers shiny and slippery while brushing over your clit.

your eyes a little glassy, and between sighs you said his name like a broken record, because he's the only one who can make you feel that way. And both of you know it.

so Lando sped up, rubbing your clit, stimulating you, making your sounds louder and louder while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you how beautiful you are, how much he adores you, and how perfect you look moaning for him even when he's just starting.

and he knows what he's doing, knows your body better than anyone, so he knows how to drive you crazy, running his fingers faster and faster, but slowing down when he notices the slightest spasm in your legs, making you grunt, moan, and grow weaker and weaker in his arms, until he finally moved his hand, not giving you what you wanted.

"go to the bed," he instructed gently, lightly slapping your ass and watching as you quickly complied with his request, moving to the bed you shared, even taking off your bra, leaving you only in your panties that were still clinging to your skin, completely soaked. “Look at you,” he said in a loving tone, looking at you with loving eyes and a huge smile.

for Lando, this is worth even more, and he would trade all the Formula 1 awards to repeat this day for the rest of his life; winning his prize at home and then going home with the love of his life, whom he could touch, devour, and cherish as his true trophy after all the effort he's put into trying to be the best.

and when he approaches you once more, you see it, that hint of purity, of rawness behind all that happiness and emotion, which captivates you and makes you unable to take your eyes off his, and makes you surrender your body to him so he can do whatever he wants.

[...]

so, you spend a good time between kisses, caresses, with Lando moving slow and hard inside you, sliding between your walls, which receive him as if he belonged there, molding to his cock, and swallowing him with every movement, making him moan against your ear, overstimulated, and filled with emotion while you're not much different.

and he doesn't even need to move faster; he just needs to keep his hands on your body, playing with your tits, putting pressure on your clit, grabbing your thighs a little tightly, and kissing your body, leaving a trail of subtle marks where only the two of you could see them.

it was the ideal situation; it was everything he needed, and you were more than happy to give it to him.

that day, you didn't receive any complaints about the noise, and maybe you were a little late to dinner, but it was definitely worth every second, because nothing could top this day, and the beautiful climax of being able to make love with someone like him, who will always look at you with loving eyes, as if you were the most important thing in his world, even when he'd just won one of the most important races of his life.

and every time you look at him, you confirm it a little more. Lando may be obsessed with you, but you're also obsessed with him, and you'd do anything to give him more days like this, where he can feel completely happy, without anything else mattering. Because that's what he deserves, being the sweetest, most precious boy you've ever met, and the one you fell madly in love with.

#☀️💞#softsunnyy #lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #ln4 #ln4 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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cutestcouch · 2 months ago

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Congratulations

A oneshot 𓂃۶ৎ

Young!William Beeman x Wife!reader

Warnings: Fluff, foul language, smut at the end. Fingering etc

GIF not mine! but by @staraayla <3 dividers from Pinterest. And proof read!

After closing a pretty big deal down at the office, William decided to throw a party for his business associates and staff on his brand new yacht.

Now normally, William just liked to privately celebrate his accomplishments. He was one of the top stockbrokers sure but this deal was huge, why not throw a yacht party right?

If you were being realistic, you never liked these parties. A lot of the people that attended were stuck up and rude, nothing but nice and gentle fronts for others to see. Especially the wife of Williams business partner. Amy? She worked your nerves like no other.

You and Will had the pleasure of attending the wedding of some very nice people Will did business with, and Amy? Well she wore white to the wedding, and it just spiraled into a mess.

The yacht was relatively big, had a lower and upper deck. As-well as a downstairs lounge area under the first deck, it was a really cozy spot. Maybe one of these days you and Will can relax down there while driving on the lake.

The party was bustling with activity, you and William walked out to the main deck to greet all of the guests. His hand was right above your ass, guiding you to stay close to him. He sported a nice pair of khaki slacks and a white button up. It was only a yacht party after all, no need to be wearing his finest suit.

You had insisted on not swimming so you just wore a nice black dress, nothing too special but still casual. William was gonna be taking it off of you later anyways, so you were content with it.

‘ Ah, William! It’s great to see you dear boy. ‘ An older man with salt and pepper hair approached Will, shaking his hand. ‘ Mr. Alphonse, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a while ‘ Will responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer to his side.

Will smiled, ‘ Alphonse this is my lovely wife y/n ‘ he introduced you proudly. His lovely, gorgeous, sweetheart of a wife. His pride for the most part. You gently smiled and shook the man’s hand, ‘ Nice to meet you Alphonse.. ‘ Alphonse looked surprised, before smirking. Turning your handshake over to kiss the back of your hand.

‘ It’s a pleasure my dear, William why didn’t you tell me you tied the knot? I would’ve sent a very nice wedding present. ‘ Will couldn’t help but to chuckle, ‘ Nah it’s no big deal, our wedding was pretty small and private. I appreciate your statement though, when we renew our vows in about ten years I’ll call you up yeah? ‘ Will and Alphonse both let out hearty laughs.

About an hour later Will made a toast, and popped a bottle of celebratory champagne. Pouring you a glass first, and kissing your temple. ‘ Thank you, my biggest supporter. I love you, you know that? ‘ he smiled down at you, softly kissing you.

You smiled, taking a sip of your champagne. ‘ I love you more, did you know that ? ‘ Will chuckled, ‘ oh no don’t start that, you can’t love me more than I do you. And… I can prove it to you upstairs.. ‘ He murmured the last part in your ear, pulling back to smirk at you deviously.

Not even thirty minutes later you and Will had discreetly disconnected yourselves from the party, going up the deck and into the first room. Before you could even make a joke he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours.

He was kissing you like a man starved, hands wandering down your back to cup your ass. ‘ God I’ve been aching to get this dress off of you all Goddamn night.. ‘ He giggled a bit, he was pretty tipsy. ‘ Yeah? Well now you have the honors ‘ you snickered in reply.

He fumbled with the zipper before sliding it down, watching your soft skin be revealed to his heated gaze. His calloused hands gently rubbing your shoulder, sliding the dress further down until it pooled around your ankles. ‘ You’re so fucking gorgeous.. ‘

He gripped the back of your thighs and hoisted you up to press your back against the wall. You leaned forward to press kisses from his jaw down to his throat. Lightly suckling at his Adam’s apple, eliciting soft groan from him.

You smiled at him, letting him lean forward to kiss you again. His one arm still holding you up, while his free hand slid your panties down your legs. Now you were completely bare against the cool wall, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘ Fuck it’s cold.. ‘ you mumble.

‘ No worries sugar, you know I’m about to warm you right up.. ‘ His fingers went between your thighs to your slick folds, smearing your arousal. ‘ Fuck it’s like Niagara Falls down here… this all for me baby ? ‘ He muttered, looking up at you.

‘ yeah— oh fuck ‘ you snickered at his joke before it turned into a moan. His ring finger slid into your hole, his mouth leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the soft peak until it pebbled, tugging it with his teeth a bit. Pulling a whimper from you as he curled his finger at the same time, sliding his middle finger in along side it.

‘ How you feeling, you okay? ‘ he looked up at you, lips parting to let your swollen nipple go. Finger’s effectively pumping and scissoring in and out of you. ‘ I— fuck ah… I’m okay.. ‘ His words almost didn’t register to you at first, mind too fogged up with pleasure.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, he leaned over to suckle and bite at your neck. Leaving a few marks, but just below your collarbone. Considering you still had to interact with guests after this, he didn’t want you to be embarrassed. ‘ Fuck you’re so wet.. it’s just running down my hand baby. ‘

‘ Mhm… ‘ you blindly made a noise of agreement, you didn’t really know what he said to begin with. Hips just barely rocking into his fingers, even from your suspended position of your back against the wall and your legs nearly over his shoulders. If there’s a will there’s a way that’s for sure. He slid his index finger in and you moaned, the third gave you that delicious burn.

His three fingers sped up, the thumb going up to rub circles over your puffy swollen clit. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and the wetness between your thighs. You were close, clenching around his fingers. Fuck you needed it so damn bad. ‘ Will baby please.. ‘ You whined into his neck.

‘ Close? Gonna make a mess on my fingers baby? ‘ His fingers sped up, hitting and curling right against that special spongy spot. ‘ yes- fuckkkkk— feels so good. ‘ you whined, eyes fluttering. ‘ You can cum, cream over my fingers for me. ‘

Your toes curled, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your head tilted against the wall. Will leaned forward and swallowed every noise of pleasure that threatened to spill, every whine, every whimper, every moan.

‘ That’s my girl.. there you go… ‘ His fingers continued and slowed gradually, prolonging your release. ‘ Always so good for me sweetheart, so proud of you. ‘ He kissed down the valley of your breasts, lazily taking a nipple into his mouth . Pulling away with a soft pop, he slowly lowered you to your feet.

He held you up for a minute, letting you get your thoughts back together. Peppering kisses all over your face, and finally your lips. ‘ You back on earth? ‘ He smiled, causing you to roll your eyes.

There was a pretty prominent bulge in his slacks, and you knew he was just aching to take care of it. ‘ ..Do you want me to? ‘ you gestured to his crotch in question. He looked down and chuckled ‘ Nah it’s fine, I’ll live. And besides we’ve got all night. I’ll get you when we get home.. ‘ He purred against your ear, giving the lobe a graze with his teeth. You giggled ‘ Yeah okay okay, if you aren’t wasted by then. ‘

He put his hand to his chest in mock offense, ‘ I’ll have you know I hold my liquor very well. ‘ You gave him a ‘really?’ Look. ‘ Will you’ve been tipsy this entire time, I’m not sure you’re making it to the end of the night. ‘ He chuckled, ‘ okay sure you got me there, but I’ll sober up. I still wanna celebrate in the hot tub tonight after all… ‘ He pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

‘ Guess what? ‘ He smiled at you ‘ What? ’ you giggled. ‘ I love you my gorgeous wife. ‘ you smiled wider, kissing his temple. ‘ And I love you wayyyy more my dear Husband. ‘ He let out a laugh ‘ Oh don’t you start that again, I’ll prove you wrong everytime sweetheart. ‘

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ! ,, and go easy on me this is my first time writing in years haha. Feedback is appreciated !!

#minniethings #Minnie writes ! 📑#Hayden Christensen #William Beeman #William Beeman x reader #Will Beeman fanfiction #First kill

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thewayilikemycookie · 30 days ago

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🤞🏻┆April fools .ᐟ

Spencer Agnew x gn!reader

Summary: You and Spencer planned a prank on your coworkers, but as it turns out, your feelings are more complicated than just a joke.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none!

Ever since starting your new job as a cast member for Smosh, your life did a complete 180. You went from having a relatively calm life, booking acting and comedy gigs every once in a while and maintaining a stable job at a chain restaurant to working for Smosh full time, being casted in videos for all their channels and helping with writing when you’re not on camera. It’s incredible how much someone’s life can change in such a short amount of time.

You became friends with the cast very quickly, they were all friendly, of course, but in the spam of a few months you felt like you truly belonged. You usually had lunch with Amanda, Tommy, Arasha and Angela or with the games crew and a lot of your afternoons -whenever you were off camera- were spent in the writing pods with Erin, Courtney and the other writers.

But the person you got really close to was Spencer. You and the director of Smosh games tended to watch many shoots together, your laughter sometimes was caught by the mics and oftentimes fans would drop comments about it.

You’ve never felt more like yourself in a job before.

Though, there is one big part of Smosh you would’ve never expected before working there.

From Arasha’s “I lied” prank, to bit city’s “rib cam”, the pranks they pulled on camera were something the viewers seemed to love, but you would never expect it to go beyond that, just funny content.

In reality, there wasn’t a full week that went by without a prank being pulled on someone behind the scenes, whether it was cast or crew, it didn’t matter, as long as it ended with laughs - and as long as it caused no harm, a rule established by Ian the moment he noticed the mischief going around in the office.

So, really, they should’ve seen this coming.

It was the middle of March and you were sick and tired of Courtney Miller.

The woman in question was now laughing her ass off in the kitchen, pointing at you, who had your whole face covered in whipped cream “DID YOU DO THIS?” You screamed, half shocked half laughing.

“NO I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME!!” Courtney shouted back, still laughing.

Chanse, who was unfortunately close to you when the prank happened, also got some of the whipped cream in his hair and was now in the same state of outrage as you “COURTNEY MILLER I SWEAR TO GOD”

He began chasing her around the kitchen and you were more lost than a fish out of water. To put you out of your misery, you heard Alex Aguilar calling places for a bit city shoot, and you were immediately on your feet (after quickly grabbing a towel to wipe the mess on your face).

You headed towards the games studio to look for Spencer, but he was already waiting for you at the door “what happened to your hair?” He smiled at you

“Whipped cream,” You answered, trying your best to clean the white spot on your hair “don’t ask”

You both entered the set and made yourselves comfortable behind the camera. This episode’s theme was lies, you watched Angela pull a prank on Arasha, Tommy falling for said prank as well and Amanda’s hilarious performance as Bill Clinton, until it was time for Arasha to come on as a guest, and she revealed a scheme she had been working on for 4 months.

The scheme itself was that she pretended to get married to her current boyfriend, only to reveal it was all a prank. She was getting into the details of the whole thing when you heard Spencer’s low voice coming from your left “I have an idea”

“What is it?” You looked at him, noticing the mischievous smirk on his face.

“April fools is coming up,” he whispered, now looking right back at you “and you know how Arasha pranked them- or all of us, I guess, by not actually getting married?”

“Yes…?” You wondered where he was going with this

“What if we prank them by pretending we’re dating?”

Spencer’s idea surprised you to say the least. You were used to reading comments shipping you two and listening to your coworkers quick remarks about your closeness, but you would’ve never expected to hear anything of the kind from him.

You thought about it. The idea of you two dating wasn’t something completely impossible, it could happen. You can definitely make it believable for a day, just to surprise them.

“Okay, I’m in” you said, turning to look at him again, only to find he was already looking at you, his smirk growing bigger.

And if his smile made your stomach twist and turn a little, that was your business.

The morning of April fools, you drove to the Smosh building with no music on, just thinking about the day’s events.

You and Spencer had started scheming the moment you left the bit city set that day. You planned everything, from the moment you entered the building to the moment you left, little moments in between shoots and interactions during lunch.

It all made you a little nervous, what would everyone’s reactions be? Will they believe it? And a question that you promised yourself to bury deep in your head: would it feel a little too real?

Needless to say you were scared.

The moment you walked through the door you felt the buzz, the emotion the day promised.

He saw you immediately, truth to be told he was waiting for you.

You smiled secretively at each other and when you walked over he gave you a side hug and nodded at you. You nodded back, not pulling away. The action at the same time calmed you a little and sparked something inside.

Damien, who was having a conversation with Spencer before you joined, paused for a second and gave you a wondering look. “R-Right, so then they….” he continued.

You stayed there with him for a moment and when it was time to part ways, Spencer squeezed your hand and waved you goodbye. You started to make your way to the writing pod, not forgetting to check if Damien showed some type of reaction. He shot you a glance and a curious smile.

In the writing pod, you, Courtney, Erin and Tommy worked together. You were writing a sketch for bit city, a romantic comedy turned horror starring Arasha and Shayne. Courtney was helping you with the structure when Spencer approached flashing a hesitant smile.

“Hi” he stood by the entrance awkwardly

“Hey Spence, come in!” You turned away from the computer and Courtney mirrored your greeting

“I- um.. I actually got you something” He walked up to your chair and handed you a small box, you recognized it immediately “I- You told me you started collecting them”

The box had “sonny angels” written on it on cute colors. It was the dinosaur line, which made it even more adorable. You don’t remember this being on the plan, but nevertheless, you jumped up out of your seat to hug him. He hugged you back tightly “Spencer!!! Thank you so much, oh my god!”

“Awww how cute!” Courtney cooed at you as you pulled away from each others arms, remembering where you were.

“Hey, careful, it’s April fools day” Tommy warned you, for a second you thought he caught you on your prank, but his tone said otherwise “he might be pranking you with that box”

“oh he wouldn’t,” you played into it “right Spence? You would never do such a thing” you glanced at him while you started to open the tiny box

“noo, never.” He said in a joking tone

You opened the box to reveal the expected small plastic bag “so far so good” you smiled and opened the bag to reveal a Triceratops sonny angel. You looked at him with what could only be described as a love stare “Thank you!” It was all a performance, of course, only to watch their friend’s reactions. Though they found it unexpectedly hard to look away from each others eyes.

“I- uh, I have a games video to um- shoot” he started to walk back “I’ll see you during lunch though” you found his flustered smile adorable

“Okay, I’ll see you during lunch” you smiled back

After he left, leaving you with a big smile on your face and small figurine in hand, you looked back at your fellow coworkers, who now had a confused expression on their faces. Tommy and Erin both had matching furrowed eyebrows and a smile, while Courtney fully stared with an open mouth and a funny expression

“What?” You asked, with fake confusion. You truly deserved an Oscar for this, you thought.

“What was that?” Erin asked, headphones down by this point

“What was what?” You answered, looking back at your laptop

“That.” Tommy said “that whole thing”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you pretended to go back into work, your mind racing through a million thoughts

“I mean, we knew you two were very close but this is-” Courtney began speaking

“HEY, what do you think about this dialogue?” you cut her off before having to answer any hard questions. Your friends seemed to understand the signal, but that didn’t stop them from sharing knowing looks.

After lunch you and Spencer walked over to the games stage together, your arms purposefully bumping on the way. You probably caught some looks, but you were too caught up in the conversation - or the way Spencer looked at you - to notice them.

The crew was setting up to play Moose Master with some characters - right after lunch, so you know its about to be chaotic -, your conversation with Spencer continued until it was time to start the shoot, he needed to give some notes before they initiated, so you started to move to the back, looking for a spot to sit down.

“Hey, where are you going?” You heard Spencer’s voice coming from behind you

“Oh, I’ll just go sit down on the couch” you turned around to face him

“You can take my chair,” Spencer moved immediately, taking his things from his chair “we rarely sit down for these videos, you know”

“The director’s chair? You sure?” You asked jokingly, a little flustered

“Of course” He took your hand, his warm touch making you even more flustered, slowly leading you to the chair

“Thank you Spence” you smiled sweetly at him as he turned to the cast, starting to go over some notes.

He stayed right by your side the whole time. Whenever you laughed you would lean a bit into each other. At some point he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, which naturally led you to rest your head on his shoulder, of course. You didn’t notice the looks from Alex Tran or the rest of the crew.

“Cut! That was great everyone! Good job” Spencer moved away from you to wrap up the shoot, but he kept his hand on the arm of the chair “no notes whatsoever”

Some people stayed behind to take down the equipment, so you and Spencer decided to help. After staying back, you continued your conversation until everyone else left the set

“Bye Alexcina!” Spencer said as the woman left set, leaving the two of you alone

“I’d say that was a victory” You smiled at him

“Yeah,” he agreed, choosing a strand of your hair to play with, occasionally his hand would graze your cheek “People were talking about it during lunch”

“Really? I didn’t even notice” you analyzed his face, he looked calm, but happy. In that moment you realized what was happening “Spence... we’re alone”

“Oh….” he started to pull away from you “You’re right, sorry”

“No, don’t” you retrieved his hand and placed it back in your hair. Slowly, he started to play with it again. A million questions raced though your head as you finally faced your feelings. Maybe you do like Spencer, and there’s a small possibility that maybe he likes you back.

He paused for a few seconds “Do you wanna come over today? We can watch a movie…” Spencer’s voice was intense and he looked nervous, it was a little adorable honestly

“And get some take out?” he nodded back “Okay, deal.”

You shared a smile, realizing that you wouldn’t have to follow up with tomorrow’s plan for the big reveal.

A.n: I watched so many compilations of Smosh vs. Dread while writing this so you can probably predict what’s coming next

Hope you liked it, requests are open!!

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x you #smosh x reader #smosh x you #smosh rpf

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theatre-mqn · 30 days ago

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